Chương 22: This Time, I Was a Hero

On the fourth day after the floodwaters receded, the villagers at the temporary resettlement camp began heading down the mountain to return home. The night the river changed course, a vast torrent had poured into the old riverbed. Only a small part of it had spilled into the villages downstream. Most of the houses were still standing, though their courtyards lay beneath a layer of silt. Some doors had swollen from the water and jammed fast in their frames, making them hard to push open.

But the fields had inevitably gone under. Great swaths of rice stalks lay flattened, their leaves plastered with mud. An old farmer knelt in his field and dug through the wet muck. He pulled out a handful of black, rotting rice roots, held them to his nose and sniffed, then silently put them back. Gu Zhiwei and Shen Yan spent two days taking stock. Including the twelve villages already hit by flooding, about 3, 800 acres of Qianshui County's fertile farmland had been inundated.

They would be difficult to cultivate for at least three years. More than half the draft cattle were dead as well, and the grain each village had saved for seed had soured at the bottom of its crocks. The moment the lids were lifted, the sour reek of fermented grain billowed out. The grain sent by the Gu family, together with the stocks Chen Li had transferred in from a neighboring prefecture, would last the county barely half a year even with strict rationing.

It might just see them through to the next meager harvest, but there would be nothing left to pay in taxes. Linhe County could only be worse. On the fifth day, officials from Linhe County sounded a gong atop the levee. Everyone thought grain was finally going to be distributed, and they came carrying jars and basins of every size. Magistrate Wang had changed into a brand-new official robe and set up an incense table beside the breach. He proclaimed that the flood had turned aside before reaching the villages.

This, he declared, was because the Yong Emperor's sincere prayers had moved Heaven. Since the people of Yunzhou had received Heaven's protection, it was only right to build a calamity-averting altar in gratitude for the Emperor's grace. He had put every last bit of this bullshit into the report he sent to the capital yesterday, claiming a generous share of the credit for himself. Building a platform naturally required stone and timber, all of which required labor.

And so he ordered every household to contribute grain. Those without grain were to provide a laborer instead. They had three days to report their numbers. Aglaya, who had originally come along just to watch the spectacle, was baffled and appalled.

"They still have grain to give?" Gu Zhiwei did not answer. She merely watched the people still clutching empty jars lower their arms one by one, their faces numb with bewilderment. Shen Yan could do nothing about Linhe County's godforsaken mess. As a county magistrate, he too had to submit a report after such a disaster. His contained nothing but the hard facts of the damage and a plea for relief from the imperial court.

Gu Zhiwei added her observations of the flood's course, the acreage affected, and the grain funds needed. They petitioned for the prefectural granary to be opened and for the displaced people to be allowed to return home. When Shen Yan reached the matter of land taxes, he held his brush suspended above the page for a long time.

"Honestly, I'm not sure we can even get any disaster-relief grain approved. Asking for a tax exemption might be a little too optimistic." Gu Zhiwei glanced over and understood why he could not bring himself to put brush to paper. Shen Yan lowered his head and resumed writing. The ink slowly bled into the paper.

"If I include it, the Emperor can do no worse than denounce me alone. If I leave it out, I deny the people even the slightest chance to survive." Shen Yan signed the report and affixed his seal at the end. During lunch, Gu Zhiwei called up the quest interface. 【Main Quest: Find the baleful star. 】 She submitted three answers in succession.

"The Yunzhou flood."

"Wang Zhong, Magistrate of Linhe County."

"The Governor of Yunzhou." Each submission made the interface glow faintly before it returned to normal. 【Current Progress: 0%. 】 Aglaya sat beside her scrolling through Forum posts when she suddenly read out a name.

"Yan Qi?" A popular thread had recently appeared on the Forum. A player in the capital reported that an outlaw named Yan Qi had appeared on the outskirts of the capital. He had been robbing grain carts bound for government granaries and distributing the grain among disaster-stricken refugees. The authorities had tried to surround and capture him several times, but he had escaped every attempt. The replies below were already at war. 【Yan Qi is such a classic outlaw hero. Could he be the baleful star?

】 【Your baleful star delivers grain to disaster victims? What a well-mannered little star. 】 【Why not turn him in to the authorities when you see him and find out? There's even a bounty on his head. 】 That reply was instantly buried beneath hundreds of furious denunciations.

Two weeks later, an imperial edict arrived from the capital by express relay. It brought no relief grain. The Yong Emperor had previously ordered the construction of a lofty calamity-averting altar outside the capital. A Daoist master from Mount Tai had already begun the rites atop the unfinished altar. The edict declared that the Yunzhou flood's change of course was proof that the Emperor's sincerity had moved Heaven. The rites, it claimed, were beginning to take effect.

Construction must therefore be accelerated to suppress the baleful star. Sounds like they copied this straight from Magistrate Wang's report. He demanded thirty thousand loads of grain and five thousand lengths of timber from Yunzhou. Twenty thousand laborers were also to be conscripted and sent to the capital by the prescribed deadline. As for the relief and tax exemption jointly requested by Gu Zhiwei and Shen Yan, the edict contained a single sentence.

"Local authorities must procure their own provisions and must not look to the imperial court whenever disaster strikes." Shen Yan knelt in the mud to receive the edict. For a long time, he did not rise. The official bearing the edict thought nothing of it. He brushed a few flecks of mud from his sleeve, then unfurled another written order.

"Gu Zhiwei, you have done well in investigating the baleful star. Continue south and investigate the calamities along the river. Depart at once. No delay." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Gu Zhiwei fell silent too. The Yong Emperor had no interest whatsoever in why the flood had changed course.

He had even answered for Heaven himself: the calamity-averting altar got the credit, while the disaster victims kept surrendering their grain and their labor. She had originally planned to return to the capital with a report on the baleful star and pry out at least a little relief from the Emperor's hands. In hindsight, she had vastly overestimated his humanity. After the official left, Shen Yan slammed a fist onto the desk.

"Thirty thousand loads." His voice was hoarse.

"Yunzhou can't even scrape together enough seed this year, and he wants thirty thousand loads."

"When do the grain levy officials arrive?" Gu Zhiwei asked.

"Three days from now." A subordinate official had already gone to neighboring Linhe County to make inquiries. She spread out a map of Qianshui County and pointed to several old granaries destroyed by the flood, along with abandoned kilns in the mountains.

"Then they'll find nothing." That night, Shen Yan summoned the village heads. Part of the grain Chen Li had sent was divided into small sacks and hidden in the villagers' cellars to keep up appearances. All the remaining stores were transported to abandoned brick kilns in the mountains, and the entrances were sealed with rotting timber and silt washed down by the flood. The villagers knew Shen Yan was risking himself for them, and they cooperated without reservation. No one breathed a word.

The Insignia Guard troops Matt had brought were his own trusted men, all born to ordinary families. Most sympathized with the disaster victims. They did not dare help devise the plan, but they could at least keep the secret. Handcart after handcart set out under cover of darkness, rolling slowly along the muddy road toward the mountains. The villagers came forward to help of their own accord.

Even children barely into their teens followed behind carrying little cloth sacks, switching shoulders whenever one shoulder grew tired.

That same day, a cold rain fell over the capital. Night was already gathering when Gu Zhao finished his duties for the day and returned home. As his carriage turned into the Ward, the wheels seemed to run over something. The driver climbed down to clear the obstruction, only to glimpse what looked like a man lying at the mouth of the alley.

"My lord, look over there. Is that a person?" Gu Zhao lifted the curtain and looked. A man lay sprawled at the alley entrance, an arrow buried in his upper back. His clothes were soaked through with blood. In the distance came the shouts of the Insignia Guard and the pounding of hooves as they searched each household along the street. Hearing them approach, the man braced himself against the wall and tried to rise, only for his knees to buckle beneath him and hit the ground again.

Gu Zhao hesitated for only a moment.

"Help him into the carriage." The driver went pale.

"My lord, those are the Insignia Guard over there..."

"Quickly." They hid the man inside the storage compartment beneath the carriage, then covered him with a layer of old felt. The carriage had barely passed the ward gate when the pursuing soldiers caught up. Without a word, one of them thrust his spear forward and flipped aside the curtain. When he recognized Gu Zhao, the soldier hurriedly withdrew his spear and saluted.

"Director Gu, did you happen to see an injured criminal pass this way?" Gu Zhao still held a case file from the Bureau of Astronomy in his hands, his expression mild.

"I did not." The carriage entered the Gu residence through the rear gate. Gu Zhao settled the man in the woodshed behind the house, then ordered someone to bring medicine and clean cloth.

"What is your name?" The man had lost a great deal of blood, but his eyes remained clear. He studied Gu Zhao for a moment before answering quietly.

"I am Yan Qi." Gu Zhao's hand went still. Outside the window, the rain intensified, drumming ceaselessly against the eaves.

"Thank you for saving my life, Lord Gu." Gu Zhao said nothing more. He merely had a meal delivered. Not long afterward, Yang Jingchu arrived with his men. He left his men outside and came in alone, rainwater glistening on his shoulders as he stood beneath the covered walkway.

"My soldiers told me they encountered you while pursuing a traitorous rebel." Yang Jingchu looked at Gu Zhao.

"There's blood outside your rear gate." Gu Zhao invited him inside and poured him a cup of hot tea.

"If you came for tea, sit."

"I have no patience for this." Yang Jingchu lowered his voice.

"That man robbed government grain and distributed it among commoners to buy their loyalty. He is a rebel in all but name! Gu Zhao, do you know what you're doing?"

"I saw nothing today. As for the blood, I suspect my cook slaughtered a chicken." Yang Jingchu slammed a palm onto the tea table. Tea sloshed over the rim of the cup.

"You save a few refugees. You strike a few families' names from the jail registers. Those are minor matters. His Majesty knows you are softhearted and has no wish to hold them against you. But do you know what kind of man Yan Qi is? He gathers men to rob government grain. He has killed bailiffs. Take one more step down this road, and no one will be able to protect you!" Gu Zhao lowered his eyes and refused to answer. Yang Jingchu stared at him, his voice sinking lower.

"If you don't think of yourself, then think of your family. Zhiwei is still in Yunzhou. What will she do if something happens to you?" Rain streamed from the roof tiles beyond the walkway, joining into a dense curtain. Gu Zhao said, "I saw nothing." Yang Jingchu closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and left. At the courtyard gate, he kicked an empty wooden bucket out of his path so violently that the gatekeeper stumbled back two steps. In the end, the Insignia Guard did not search the Gu residence.

Meanwhile, at the northern frontier. A bitter wind howled through the streets of the border town. It was already April, yet there was not the slightest hint of spring in the air. After Wang Pu and the other nine in his squad finished their patrol, he led them on their usual detour to the alley beside the abandoned post station for noodle soup. The old woman who sold noodles knew them well by now. These Northern Garrison soldiers never kicked over her stall or walked away without paying.

Instead, they often helped her gather firewood and carry water. Whenever Squad Leader Wang had time, he even helped her pack up and push her cart home. She ladled an extra half-spoonful of minced-meat topping into every bowl, then slipped a braised egg into the bottom of Wang Pu's bowl. His squadmates saw and laughed.

"Our squad leader ought to eat more. He's so skinny the wind could carry him off." The old woman nodded, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. Wang Pu ate his braised egg but refused to concede the point.

"Granny, I'm what you call small but mighty. Where I come from, all the handsome lads look like this." Everyone around the table burst out laughing. They had just finished their noodles when a column of black smoke suddenly rose north of the town. Then came a second. The smile vanished from Wang Pu's face. He charged up an earthen slope, took one look, then spun around and ran.

"Beirong troops! At least a thousand! Back to camp, sound the alarm!" By the time they reached the camp gates, the walls were already packed with archers. Yet the gates remained tightly shut, the drawbridge unmoving.

"Open the gates!" Wang Pu shouted upward.

"Beirong cavalry north of the town! Send men to help!" The commandant guarding the gate peered over the battlement.

"Orders from general. The enemy situation is unclear. No one may leave camp without authorization."

"Then let us in first!"

"Who knows whether you have pursuers behind you? Stand back!" The smoke north of the town thickened. Faint cries carried on the wind. Wang Pu looked back. In that little town were children who chased him on every patrol, calling him Squad Leader Wang and begging him for candy. There was the old granny who always gave them an extra spoonful of topping. There were countless others who did not even know where to run. He hesitated for a long moment. In the end, he swore, then drew the long saber at his waist.

"I'll go take a look. The rest of you split up and find somewhere to hole up." No one moved. The old soldier who had just laughed that the wind might carry him away hoisted his saber onto his shoulder.

"Squad Leader, we're going with you." They charged into town against the tide of fleeing people. Ten blades could not stop a thousand cavalrymen. All they could do was cut the harness ropes on the pack carts and release the animals, topple wooden frames to block the main street, then lead the civilians hiding inside their homes out through the southern alleys. Wang Pu drove his saber into a Beirong soldier's chest. Scalding blood splashed across his face.

He had no time to wipe it away before he threw himself forward again and snatched a wailing child from beneath a horse's hooves.

"Run! Run for the south gate!" Burning thatch kept tumbling from the roofs. The smoke stung their eyes so badly they could barely keep them open. The cavalry soon scattered the squad in the chaos. Wang Pu carved a path through the fighting with dozens of civilians and got them all out through the south gate. When he turned back, only two of his men remained beside him. A dense thunder of hooves sounded from the mouth of the alley. Hundreds of Beirong soldiers closed in from both ends.

The three of them had no choice but to retreat into a narrow alley piled with firewood. The wall behind them stood twice a man's height, its bricks slick with melted snow and offering no purchase. The old soldier crouched down.

"Step on my shoulders. We'll get one man over first." The young soldier had barely planted a foot on his back when an arrow skimmed over the wall and buried itself in a nearby woodpile. The shaft thrummed. Several tufts of dry grass fluttered down the back of Wang Pu's neck.

"No good. They've got men on the other side too." The young soldier jumped down, panting as he held his nicked saber across his chest.

"Squad Leader, looks like I won't be able to pay back that half month's pay I owe you. In my next life, I'll..."

"Cut the bullshit. Stay alive and pay me back. Otherwise, the interest compounds, and you'll owe me double in your next life." Wang Pu had just said the most capitalist thing of his life, except his voice was shaking so badly that he didn't sound intimidating at all. The Beirong soldiers had already dismounted and were closing in. The scrape of iron armor drew closer, inch by inch, down the alley. Wang Pu's grip on his saber had begun to slip. The hilt was slick with blood.

He tore off half his sleeve and wrapped it tightly around the hilt. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, called up the group chat interface, and rapidly sent a message. 【I think I'm really done for this time. Uncle Chen, when you get back, could you please look after my grandma for me? She might not even remember ever having a grandson like me, but still... please. 】 He looked at the Beirong soldiers now almost upon them, mustered the greatest courage of his whole life, and charged with a roar.

【I didn't chicken out. This time, I was a goddamn hero. 】 Gu Zhiwei saw the message while helping hide the final shipment of grain in the abandoned kiln. Her hand jerked. Hot oil splashed across her hand. Everyone's frantic questions appeared almost at once, flooding the group chat. Wang Pu never answered again.