Raising Wolves CHAPTER 28 & 29
Raising wolves
Chapter 28&29
Translated by : DANMEI HEAVEN
Lu Qingze hesitated, watching Ning Juan slowly chew the half-eaten pancake.
Was he really hungry?
Even so, he shouldn’t be eating his leftovers.
But since Ning Juan had already taken a bite, Lu Qingze couldn’t snatch it back. He could only hand over his water flask, worried the child might choke from eating too fast. “…Have some water?”
Ning Juan let out a soft “Mm,” took a sip, then briefly explained the situation in the cave.
The cave was damp, cold, and at risk of collapse. With infected patients and others suffering inside, the disaster victims couldn’t stay there any longer.
There were likely more disaster victims hiding elsewhere. The incompetents in Jiangyou had to be dealt with swiftly for effective disaster relief.
But… why were the disaster victims so terrified of government soldiers?
Rustling came from the cave entrance as the girl who had been shielded by the crowd earlier stepped out. Her eyes immediately landed on Lu Qingze and Ning Juan.
The two of them stood out too much.
They seemed to naturally draw everyone’s attention, their bearing making it clear they were no ordinary people.
Who were they?
Perhaps the youth wasn’t an imperial envoy—no envoy was that young.
Seeing the armed men outside… were they bandits?
The girl silently weighed her options before speaking hoarsely, “What do you want in exchange for the conditions you mentioned earlier?”
Lu Qingze, having just learned from Ning Juan that this girl was the disaster victims’ leader, replied kindly, “Don’t worry. We don’t expect anything in return.”
His soothing voice put people at ease. The girl paused, then nodded hesitantly. “Thank you for the food. Everyone hasn’t eaten their fill in a long time.”
Ning Juan abruptly interjected, “Why are you hiding here?”
Why stay here instead of going to Lingshan Temple, where the government had set up relief efforts? Even if the temple wasn’t ideal, it still had government-distributed rations and medicinal soups. Here, they had neither food nor warmth, and there were infected patients without medicine.
The girl’s expression darkened. “We heard that disaster victims taken to Lingshan Temple… disappear without a trace.”
Everyone nearby stiffened.
Disappear? What did that mean?
The girl took a deep breath, her voice laced with bone-deep hatred. “From your accents, you’re not from Jiangyou, are you? No wonder you don’t know how that bastard Pan operates. Nothing that dog-official does would surprise me.”
Physician Chen couldn’t help interjecting, “But the court sends people every year…”
“The court?” The girl scoffed. “The previous emperor didn’t care. Now that the new emperor’s on the throne, can he even manage? The court hasn’t made a move yet. I bet that new emperor is still being deceived by traitors, unaware of what’s happening in Jiangyou. What can he possibly do?”
Such disrespectful words, spoken right in front of Ning Juan, made the old physician break out in a cold sweat, his back drenched. He trembled, “Young lady, be careful with your words!”
Despite being insulted to his face, Ning Juan remained expressionless. “Sun Er, assist with relocating the disaster victims.”
What outsiders said about him didn’t affect him.
The hidden guard who had followed the girl out obeyed, dispatching a few men to cover their noses and mouths before re-entering the cave to help move the immobile patients.
Aside from the Imperial Guards who had first arrived in Jiangyou to search for the young heir and the thirty hidden guards who had dispersed, there were also several dozen Imperial Guards in Jiangyou who had come to find the young heir.
Before arriving, Ning Juan had ordered them to prepare a place.
Until Pan Jingmin and his ilk were dealt with, at least the disaster victims could have shelter, warm food, and medical treatment.
The girl fell silent for a moment before saying solemnly, “My name is Yu Liuyue. I will remember your kindness.”
“There’s no need for gratitude. This is our duty.”
Lu Qingze watched as the patients were carried out, his heart heavy. He shook his head. “The guards will take you to a safe place. Physician Chen will accompany you. We have other matters to attend to, so we’ll take our leave now.”
Turning, he exchanged a glance with Ning Juan and murmured, “Let’s head to Lingshan Temple now.”
Ning Juan nodded.
The two walked out together, Ning Juan silent the entire way.
Lu Qingze thought for a moment and decided the little one needed some comfort. Once they mounted their horses, he tilted his head slightly and said softly, “Miss Yu doesn’t know the full situation. Don’t take her words to heart. Once Jiangyou’s affairs are resolved and you’ve won the people’s support, both the court and the common folk will know you’re not someone to be trifled with. More people will rally behind you.”
Ning Juan didn’t actually care, but being comforted by Lu Qingze made his thoughts stir. He blinked, his eyes instantly turning pitiful. “Mm.”
His voice sounded so aggrieved. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Lu Qingze’s waist, pressing his warm chest against his back and resting his head lightly on his shoulder. “I’m so upset. Teacher, let me hold you for a bit.”
Lu Qingze: “…Fine, fine, hold me.”
Why was this child so clingy?
Every time he hugged him like this, he’d get his hands swatted away.
Ning Juan's lips curved slightly.
So soft-hearted but stubborn—how adorable, Teacher.
Lingshan Temple wasn't actually far from their current location. In less than two hours, they could faintly glimpse the ancient temple perched halfway up the mountainside. Once a flourishing and expansive site, the entire hillside had belonged to the temple. However, Emperor Chong'an, a devout Taoist, had favored Taoism over Buddhism during his reign, leading to the temple's gradual decline. Its incense offerings had never been particularly abundant.
The floodwaters surged, submerging low-lying areas along the riverbanks. The disaster was especially severe in Ji'an Prefecture, where Pan Jingmin had forcibly requisitioned the temple to house the displaced victims.
As they galloped toward Lingshan Temple, Lu Qingze sensed an unusual tension in the air.
A group of soldiers surrounded the temple, clad in armor and armed with blades. Dozens of able-bodied commoners and a few bald monks stood guard at the entrance, clutching sticks and clubs. At their forefront was a slender, delicate-looking youth, his face taut with tension.
The two sides were locked in a standoff, though the disparity in strength was glaringly obvious.
Ning Juan narrowed his eyes and signaled for the hidden guards to disperse but remain on standby.
Let’s hear what this is about first.
The leading soldier brandished his sword, bellowing at the civilians, "You dare defy official orders? You’re asking for death!"
A young monk beside the slender youth, his face flushed with anger, retorted, "You’ve been taking the sick from the temple every few days. Unless you explain where those people have gone, don’t even think about entering Lingshan Temple today!"
Lu Qingze inhaled sharply.
It seemed Yu Liuyue’s words were true.
Given Pan Jingmin’s conduct—incapable of managing the floods and unwilling to treat the sick—his solution to minimize the disaster’s impact and prevent the epidemic from tarnishing his political record was clear. What would he do with those taken away? What fate awaited them?
Everyone present was quick-witted, and a chill ran down their spines at the realization.
"Fine, die then," the leading soldier sneered, losing patience. His face darkened. "Arrest these troublemakers. Today, we’ll make an example of them. Let’s see who dares oppose us after this!"
As he spoke, a cold glint flashed in Ning Juan’s eyes. "Leave one alive," he ordered.
The hidden guards, already positioned for an ambush, drew their blades and charged at his command.
The soldiers hadn’t expected an ambush, let alone one by skilled fighters armed with swords. They panicked, shouting, "Rebellion! You peasants dare collude with bandits? Just wait until we report this—we’ll wipe you all out!"
The leader, though loud-mouthed, was no weakling. Swinging two massive hammers with terrifying strength, he held his own against the highly trained hidden guards.
Ning Juan watched coldly from horseback for a moment before calmly drawing the bow from his back. He nocked an arrow, pulling the two-stone bowstring taut until it formed a perfect arc, the arrowhead glinting ominously.
Then, with a resonant twang, the arrow shot forth.
In the next instant, it pierced three soldiers in succession, sending them crashing to the ground, where they were trampled by panicked horses.
The young emperor’s expression was icy as he lowered the bow, his wide sleeves billowing in the wind.
Lu Qingze, who had dismounted and stood nearby, felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight.
Ning Juan glanced down. "Did I startle you, Teacher?"
Lu Qingze shook his head.
He was merely surprised that Ning Juan could draw a two-stone bow from horseback.
The kid’s been secretly improving. His arm strength is impressive.
With their leader dead, the remaining soldiers faltered, despite their numerical advantage.
Seeing the intervention, the civilians guarding the temple entrance wanted to join the fight, but the slender youth stopped them with a raised hand, signaling them to stay back. Spotting a panicked horse, he kicked up a bloodied longsword, grabbed the reins, and mounted in one fluid motion. After swiftly subduing the horse, he charged into the fray.
Surprisingly, his martial skills were exceptional.
The disorganized soldiers were soon decimated, the air thick with the scent of blood. When only one remained, the skilled youth raised his sword to pursue, but the hidden guards blocked him.
Puzzled, he lowered his blade and gestured with his hands.
He was mute.
Ning Juan frowned at the youth.
Lu Qingze stepped in. "He’s asking why we’re sparing them. If that soldier escapes and reports to Pan Jingmin, who’s also in Ji'an Prefecture, we’ll be in trouble. Killing officials will bring more soldiers down on us, and the temple will be besieged."
Delighted that someone understood him, the youth nodded vigorously.
Ning Juan didn’t answer immediately, instead turning to Lu Qingze in surprise. "Teacher, you understand sign language?"
"I know a little," Lu Qingze replied before smiling reassuringly at the youth. "Don’t worry. We want them to come."
The youth, Lin Xi, looked confused but sheathed his sword. Surrounded by the others, he suddenly seemed shy, signing: Thank you for helping us.
Lu Qingze translated, then responded, "No need for thanks."
Having Lu Qingze constantly translate was cumbersome.
Though Ning Juan loved listening to him, he disliked how his attention kept shifting to others. His gaze swept the area before he dismounted smoothly and approached the monks at the temple entrance.
The monks, unable to bear the sight of bloodshed at the sacred site, were murmuring prayers with eyes closed, their faces etched with sorrow.
The eldest, a white-bearded monk, was likely the abbot.
"How is the situation inside the temple?" Ning Juan asked.
Startled, the monks opened their eyes. Grateful for the intervention, they lowered their guard. The abbot sighed heavily. "There are tens of thousands of victims on the mountain. Those who can’t fit inside the buildings sleep in the courtyards… Many have fallen ill from the cold and damp."
"At first, the authorities sent some food and medicine, but gradually, they stopped. Now they just post guards outside and take away batches of the sick every few days…"
As the abbot spoke, Lu Qingze, now accustomed to the chafing pain in his thighs, walked to Ning Juan’s side. "Let’s go inside and see."
Ning Juan ordered everyone to take protective measures, then pulled out a handkerchief and carefully tied it over Lu Qingze’s mouth and nose before doing the same for himself. Only then did they enter the temple.
The abbot’s words were no exaggeration. Inside, throngs of displaced people huddled on the cold, hard floors. Those slightly better off had mats to sit on.
Further in, the buildings housed mostly the elderly, women, and children—including many pregnant women.
But most were left to sleep under the open sky.
This was the rainy season. With so many exposed to the elements, drenched and sleeping on the ground, it was no surprise that some fell ill—and those unlucky enough to catch a fever were likely taken away by the soldiers.
The monks had done their best to isolate the sick, but space was limited, and the disease continued to spread. Many monks who’d had close contact with the ill had also fallen victim.
Pairs of eyes—fearful, numb, or anxious—watched them silently. Occasionally, stifled coughs could be heard, as if the sufferers feared being dragged away at any moment.
Ning Juan’s expression darkened.
Lu Qingze closed his eyes briefly, fists clenched.
________________________________________
As Ning Juan and his group entered Lingshan Temple, the surviving soldier, believing he’d escaped, galloped into Ji'an Prefecture to report the incident.
Pan Jingmin wouldn’t normally have come to Ji'an in person. Hongdu Prefecture hadn’t been affected by the floods, and the displaced were barred from the city. Why endure hardship when he could enjoy the comforts of his luxurious estate, attended by beautiful concubines?
But even after ordering the elimination of the sick, the epidemic persisted. With the young emperor nearby in Jiangzhe, Pan Jingmin grew uneasy. If word leaked, it would spell disaster. He needed to resolve this quickly.
So he’d come to discuss with the Ji'an Prefect how to handle the troublesome temple inhabitants.
Alongside Pan Jingmin were the Jiangxi Regional Military Commander and the Provincial Administration Commissioner.
The table was laden with extravagant delicacies, rare ingredients replaced at the slightest frown. Behind a beaded curtain, musicians played soothing melodies.
The group had just been debating whether to "burn the place down tonight and claim it was an accident" when a subordinate rushed in, panicked. "Sir, it’s chaos at Lingshan Temple! The peasants have revolted, joined forces with bandits, and slaughtered our men!"
Pan Jingmin, already irritated, scowled. "These peasants are rebelling! They dare defy me!"
Ji'an Prefect Zhao Zhengde, also alarmed, hurriedly poured tea to placate him. "Sir, don’t anger yourself over these lowly peasants. But they’re clearly restless. We were right to post guards. We should act fast—shall I send men tonight to burn it all down?"
"Tonight?" Pan Jingmin snorted. "Foolish. If they’ve killed our men, they could storm your residence by nightfall! Bring me five hundred elite soldiers. Let’s go. Once this is settled, I’ll sleep easier."
The Provincial Administration Commissioner paled. "You’re going personally?"
Pan Jingmin smirked. "With so many people, I’ll only rest assured after seeing it with my own eyes."
"But there are thousands inside. Five hundred men… isn’t that too few?"
Pan Jingmin waved dismissively. "They’re just weak, sickly commoners. More than enough."
Nearly ten thousand people had docilely obeyed a few dozen guards.
What spine did these country bumpkins have to resist?
The Regional Military Commander had a sudden idea. "Sir, other areas also have displaced people we haven’t dealt with. Feeding them wastes grain, but leaving them risks rebellion. Why not capture those bandits, torture confessions out of them, and claim the displaced were colluding with rebels? That way, we can eliminate the rest. Once the ‘rebels’ are crushed, it’ll be another feather in your cap."
Zhao Zhengde and the Provincial Administration Commissioner inwardly shuddered at the ruthlessness but kept their smiles firmly in place.
Pan Jingmin, however, brightened. "For a pig-brained oaf, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll put in a good word for you too."
Pan Jingmin had governed Jiangxi for years. While inept at flood control and epidemic management, he excelled at suppressing dissent. He set off immediately with his soldiers, bringing along oil, torches, and bows.
With Pan Jingmin leading, the others had no choice but to follow. As he boarded his carriage, Zhao Zhengde couldn’t help but think: This is the first time we’ve visited Lingshan Temple since housing those people.
And likely the last.
The group arrived at Lingshan Temple in no time.
Their approach didn’t go unnoticed. The hidden guards spotted the figures descending the mountain and swiftly reported to Ning Juan.
Ning Juan turned. "Teacher, care to join me in meeting the illustrious Governor of Jiangxi?"
Lu Qingze had always been even-tempered, rarely experiencing strong emotions.
But this time was different.
From the moment they’d entered Jiangxi, the sight of flooded fields and displaced people, coupled with the authorities’ inaction and outright slaughter of the sick, had ignited a fury in them all.
As they stepped out of Lingshan Temple, Pan Jingmin and his entourage arrived with their elite soldiers.
Spotting the dozen or so armed men at the entrance, Pan Jingmin immediately pointed at the obvious leader, Ning Juan. "You’re the bandit who killed our men?"
Ning Juan stood unmoved, hands behind his back, his gaze icy. "Pan Jingmin, you’ve grown quite bold."
Pan Jingmin, accustomed to being worshipped in Jiangxi, bristled at the disrespect.
Prefect Zhao, ever the sycophant, snarled, "How dare you address His Excellency by name!"
Pan Jingmin snorted, done wasting time. He raised a hand. "Capture them alive!"
Before his words fully landed, a thunderous rumble erupted from the foot of the mountain.
The synchronized galloping of horses.
Zheng Yao, leading two hundred men, charged through the mud, his voice roaring: "Who dares harm His Majesty?!"
At this cry, the advancing soldiers froze, gaping as the men in flying fish uniforms and embroidered spring sabers—the Imperial Guards—raced past them.
The leader dismounted, his voice booming: "Imperial Guard Commander Zheng Yao, arriving late to protect His Majesty!"
What?
Pan Jingmin and the group of sycophants around him doubted their ears for the first time in their lives.
The Commander of the Imperial Guards, Zheng Yao?
Was this the real deal? And what did they call that rebel leader just now?
Wait, there was a young man wearing a silver-white mask beside him. It was said that Imperial Tutor Lu Qingze, due to his unsightly appearance, always wore such a mask.
But the young emperor was supposed to be safely staying in Lin'an Prefecture. How could this be...
Pan Jingmin's face gradually paled. Despite the refreshing post-rain air, cold sweat uncontrollably seeped from his back and forehead, sending chills down his spine. His body trembled uncontrollably, his face twitching.
A sense of impending doom, as if a catastrophic disaster was looming, enveloped his obese frame. Overwhelmed by extreme fear, his mind went blank.
Zheng Yao arrived precisely when Ning Juan had anticipated.
He hadn’t brought many people and had come secretly. If Pan Jingmin, in desperation, decided to silence them—though it would be impossible to succeed—Ning Juan didn’t want to take even the slightest risk with Lu Qingze by his side. He had already sent a message to Zheng Yao the day before.
After witnessing the horrors in Jiangxi, there was no need to remain low-key.
Ning Juan lowered his gaze slightly before raising it again, his eyes fixed squarely on Pan Jingmin. His voice was icy: "Well, Minister Pan, weren’t you going to capture me alive?"
Author's Note:
Ning Guoguo: Showing off a bit—my teacher must think I’m so cool.
Lu Qingze: (Snapping photos with a camera) My kid is amazing!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Yu Shurong was the Assistant Prefect of Ji'an Prefecture, having taken office only last year. Unfamiliar with the intricacies of Jiangxi’s officialdom and lacking deep roots, he was still relatively green.
When the flood crisis in Jiangxi first emerged, he had advised Prefect Zhao Zhengde to report it to higher authorities, but the suggestion was suppressed.
As the flood situation worsened, even leading to outbreaks of disease, he bypassed Zhao Zhengde and pleaded with Provincial Governor Pan Jingmin to report it to the court—again to no avail.
Finally, gritting his teeth, he decided to report it over his superiors’ heads. Together with several colleagues, he drafted a memorial to be sent to the capital. Unbeknownst to him, Pan Jingmin caught wind of it. The memorial was intercepted midway, and their group was thrown into prison.
For days, aside from the occasional jailer delivering meals, hardly anyone remembered them.
Prolonged confinement in the dark, damp prison was mentally oppressive. To keep his sanity, Yu Shurong could only talk to the rats for company. The jailers who occasionally saw this looked at him as if he were a madman.
Yu Shurong remained calm. As long as the rats didn’t start talking back, his mind was still intact.
Today’s lunch was unusually late.
Yu Shurong paced his cell, hands clasped behind his back, occasionally glancing beyond the iron bars.
He had a feeling something was about to happen.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed from outside. A large group of jailers entered, unlocking the cell doors with an uncharacteristically polite demeanor: "Minister Yu, please come out."
Yu Shurong’s heart sank, his body turning cold.
Was Pan Jingmin planning to silence them? Did he intend to kill all of them?
His vision swam briefly before he managed to croak out, "Can I write a letter to my mother first?"
The lead jailer was momentarily stunned, then quickly waved his hands in understanding: "You’ve misunderstood. Pan Jingmin and his associates, along with those implicated, have all been arrested and await punishment. The government office is currently unmanned. His Majesty has ordered you to temporarily assume the duties of Prefect."
"What?" Yu Shurong wondered if he was still dreaming, his mind foggy. "Who did you say... has come?"
"Ah, you wouldn’t know yet," the jailer said, rubbing his hands. "His Majesty has personally come from the capital!"
His Majesty... came personally?
Yu Shurong stood frozen for a long time before stepping out of the prison, gazing toward the faint light at the end of the corridor.
It seemed to him that the dark clouds hanging over Jiangxi were dissipating, just like the darkness of the prison, giving way to brightness.
The problems piled up in Jiangxi were numerous.
The most urgent were the three major issues: the breached riverbanks, the spread of disease, and the displaced refugees. The floodwaters needed to be managed, the refugees housed, and the sick treated.
Thus, after imprisoning Pan Jingmin and his cohorts, Lu Qingze and Ning Juan had no time to rest.
The Imperial Guards previously stationed in Jiangxi submitted a list of officials colluding with Pan Jingmin. Pan Jingmin and his group had been arrested so swiftly that before news could spread, another batch was rounded up.
Officials who had been imprisoned for secretly reporting the situation were released and reinstated to their positions or assigned to fill vacancies, awaiting future commendations.
Ning Juan took full control of Jiangxi’s governance, ordering all prefectures to report their grain reserves. Immediate construction of shelters and infirmaries began, granaries were opened, and relief distributed to the disaster victims.
Meanwhile, Lu Qingze entered the archives of Ji'an Prefecture, reviewing historical flood records and past flood control plans. Combining his observations from the journey, he devised flood management strategies tailored to the current situation.
Ji'an Prefecture was prosperous and the first to suffer from the floods. Thus, among all the affected prefectures, Lingshan Temple housed the most refugees.
Ning Juan ordered Zheng Yao to lead a team of soldiers, imperial physicians, and recruited doctors to screen the refugees one by one. Once the shelters were built, those infected would be moved to infirmaries for treatment.
The healthy would remain at Lingshan Temple temporarily. When it came time to repair the riverbanks, they could volunteer for paid labor.
Since the disease had an incubation period of several days, suspected cases had to be observed in the back hills of Lingshan Temple for a few days before being cleared to return.
The imperial physicians had also set out upon receiving orders, but being less swift than martial artists, they arrived a half-day after Zheng Yao, accompanied by a hundred imperial guards from Jiangzhe.
Imperial Guards rode swiftly between prefectures, summoning renowned local doctors to collaborate with the imperial physicians on treatment plans and remedies for the epidemic.
Orders were issued methodically, and the chaotic Jiangxi seemed to regain its backbone, revolving around Ning Juan’s directives.
Surprisingly, however, the government offices in Ji'an Prefecture were nearly empty of grain reserves, so barren that even rats wouldn’t deign to visit.
Jiangxi had been cut off from the outside for days, and the medicinal herbs stocked in the city’s pharmacies were woefully inadequate for the massive number of refugees.
After listening to the imperial guards’ report, Ning Juan lifted his thin eyelids slightly and said coolly, "You’re looking in the wrong place."
Two hours later, Zheng Yao led a contingent of Imperial Guards on horseback into Hongdu Prefecture like a band of outlaws, drawing curious stares from the populace.
Following orders, Zheng Yao headed straight for the most luxurious mansion in Hongdu Prefecture. Glancing at the plaque bearing the characters "Pan Residence," he smirked coldly, gestured for a bow from his subordinate, nocked an arrow, and let it fly—piercing the plaque dead center on the character "Pan."
Then, without ceremony, he kicked open the gates of Pan Jingmin’s residence and strode in amid the gatekeeper’s cries: "Imperial Guards on official business! Arrest them all!"
As Ning Juan had predicted, Pan Jingmin was filthy rich.
While floods had drowned crops and left disaster victims starving, and ordinary citizens in other prefectures were tightening their belts, Pan Jingmin’s estate had several newly built warehouses stuffed with medicinal herbs and grain.
Relief porridge was to be distributed the next morning, but Ji'an Prefecture’s grain reserves were critically low and wouldn’t last more than a few days. Seeing this, Zheng Yao whistled in delight and ordered everything to be hauled away for relief efforts.
After inspecting the warehouses, he strolled to Pan Jingmin’s private vault, kicked it open with equal violence, and found it filled with unassuming chests.
Zheng Yao stepped forward, drew his saber, and cleaved a lock open with one strike. He casually lifted the lid and froze.
Everyone around him gasped in unison.
The chest was packed to the brim with gold ingots!
Dazzled by the glittering treasure, the men instinctively swallowed hard, their eyes gleaming: "Boss, do you think the other chests are also full of..."
"Good heavens, I’ve never seen so much gold in my life."
"One ingot is worth years of my salary... With this much gold, why even be an official? Why not retire and live in luxury?"
Faced with such staggering wealth, some couldn’t help but entertain greedy thoughts. Dozens of pairs of eyes fixated on the gleaming gold, hearts pounding.
Zheng Yao, too, stared at the chest of gold, wrestling with temptation for a few seconds before slamming the lid shut and sitting atop it like a throne. "Who just said they didn’t want to be an official anymore? Step forward, and I’ll strip you of your rank myself."
"Take inventory. I want a full count. If a single ingot goes missing, I’ll chop off your heads and deliver them to His Majesty!"
With the gold out of sight, the men snapped out of their daze, remembering the emperor currently stationed in Ji'an Prefecture. They shuddered and suppressed their greed: "Yes, sir!"
The grain and herbs were carted off to Ji'an Prefecture for distribution. The chests of gold ingots were kept under wraps, their existence reported to Ning Juan upon Zheng Yao’s return with a detailed inventory.
Ning Juan skimmed the list and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? A round number?"
Zheng Yao guessed the emperor’s implication and chuckled nervously. "Your Majesty, the men are loyal to you. None would dare steal. Of course, it’s a round number."
Ning Juan narrowed his eyes, studying him for a moment.
Zheng Yao kept his head bowed but could feel the piercing gaze, cold sweat breaking out. After a pause, Ning Juan let out a soft, ambiguous hum. "Is that so?"
His tone was unreadable.
The response hung like a sword over Zheng Yao’s head. Just as he was scratching his head in confusion, someone walked in—a voice cool as jade yet laced with warmth: "I’ve tallied the grain Zheng Yao brought. It likely won’t last until court relief arrives."
Pausing, the newcomer noticed the tense atmosphere. "What’s wrong?"
A savior had arrived!
Zheng Yao rejoiced inwardly.
The oppressive gaze on him vanished instantly. The emperor’s voice even carried a hint of amusement, his mood shifting like flipping a page: "Commander Zheng discovered 200,000 taels of gold in Pan Jingmin’s residence. Rise. You’ve all worked hard. Aside from the gold, let your men take whatever valuables they find in Pan’s house."
Zheng Yao’s eyes widened. "Really? Your Majesty means it?"
Ning Juan shot him a look. "When have I ever gone back on my word?"
Imperial Tutor Lu was truly the emperor’s panacea.
Zheng Yao nearly laughed aloud, grinning as he bowed in gratitude.
The kid had learned to offer sweeteners.
Lu Qingze watched the scene with quiet approval. Once Zheng Yao had left, he asked, "Commander Zheng, did you find any correspondence between Pan Jingmin and Wei Herong in his residence?"
At this, Zheng Yao’s smile faded. Frowning, he replied, "We searched everywhere. Nothing. It might be hidden elsewhere—or worse, burned. But even if letters were destroyed, account books wouldn’t be. Every last dog in Pan’s household has been arrested. I’ll interrogate Pan Jingmin overnight."
The last two sentences were directed at Ning Juan.
Ning Juan gave a noncommittal "Hmm." "Go handle it."
Zheng Yao left in high spirits, ready to rally his men for another trip to Hongdu Prefecture.
Once he was gone, Ning Juan’s expression softened fully. "Teacher, why have you come?"
"I’ve reviewed Jiangxi’s historical flood records and drafted a flood control plan." Lu Qingze handed over several sheets of paper. "Take a look."
Armed with modern scientific flood control methods, Lu Qingze had a clear understanding of Jiangxi’s flood causes and solutions—hence his decision to accompany Ning Juan.
Without taming the floods and resettling the refugees, the root problems would persist. Only by managing the floods could the people return to farming and rebuilding their homes, restoring societal stability.
Ning Juan took the papers and skimmed them. Lu Qingze had summarized past flood causes and solutions, analyzed the current situation succinctly in one page, and devoted the rest to detailed flood control strategies, complete with simple diagrams. The content was clear and logical, reflecting his usual composed demeanor.
Ning Juan couldn't help but smile as he read: "Teacher writes well and draws even better."
It was nearly evening. Since arriving in Ji'an Prefecture early in the morning, Lu Qingze hadn’t even had time to drink a cup of hot tea. Seeing a steaming cup on Ning Juan’s desk, he unceremoniously picked it up to warm his hands, took a sip, and raised his eyes: "Well?"
Ning Juan read through it again and nodded: "I think it’s feasible. I’ll summon the acting prefect of Ji'an immediately."
Lu Qingze didn’t linger either. He returned to continue organizing and taking stock of supplies, and as he left, he casually took the teacup with him.
Walking at a leisurely pace, he soon encountered Yu Shurong, who had been summoned for an audience with the emperor, and gave him a polite nod.
Yu Shurong, freshly released from prison and immediately buried under a mountain of tasks, knew only that the emperor had arrived but wasn’t yet aware of who else had come along. Temporarily confused, he nodded back in a daze and hurried into the room, bowing respectfully: "Your humble servant greets Your Majesty."
Ning Juan responded with a calm "Hmm" and handed him Lu Qingze’s manuscript: "Take a look."
Yu Shurong hastily accepted it with both hands and began reading carefully, occasionally murmuring in amazement. When he finished, he looked up with bright eyes: "Your Majesty, who wrote this flood control plan? It’s truly exceptional!"
In his excitement, he didn’t notice his tone lacked proper deference.
"My teacher," Ning Juan replied, unbothered. In fact, hearing someone praise Lu Qingze made the corners of his lips curl imperceptibly.
Yu Shurong suddenly realized.
He had heard that before the late emperor’s passing, he had appointed the young Zhuangyuan Lu Qingze as the new emperor’s teacher. This Grand Tutor had once been framed by the eunuch faction and nearly lost his life. Later, while protecting the new emperor, his face was injured, and from then on, he wore a silver mask in public, never revealing his true appearance again.
A frail young man wearing a silver mask—wasn’t that the person he had just passed on his way here?
Good heavens, he had missed the chance to speak with Lu Qingze!
Yu Shurong was deeply regretful. He read through the manuscript once more and affirmed: "Your humble servant believes we can proceed with the flood control entirely according to Grand Tutor Lu’s approach."
"Good. Arrange it today. If you lack manpower, come to me."
Ning Juan, feeling thirsty, instinctively reached for his teacup but found nothing. He paused, then remembered Lu Qingze had taken it. A silent laugh escaped him.
Yu Shurong repeatedly assented and turned to leave with the manuscript.
Before his foot had even crossed the threshold, the emperor’s cool voice drifted ominously from behind: "Copy this flood control plan yourself and return the original to me. Not a single sheet can be missing."
Huh? What?
Yu Shurong’s mind went blank: "...Your servant obeys."
By the time he had somewhat clarified the situation in Jiangxi, it was already deep into the night.
Countless minor issues remained unresolved. The hidden disaster victims distrusted the authorities, and even upon hearing the emperor himself had arrived, they suspected it was a lie.
Relief grain and medicinal supplies were insufficient. Although arrangements had been made with the court in advance, aid couldn’t arrive immediately.
Ning Juan decided to temporarily requisition supplies from the neighboring wealthy regions of Jiangsu and Zhejiang to address the urgent need. However, persuading the officials there to willingly hand over relief materials was another challenge.
Moreover, evidence of Pan Jingmin’s collusion with Wei Helong had yet to be obtained. Pan Jingmin was reckless and audacious in his actions, but in this regard, he was extremely cautious. Neither his legal wife, eighteen concubines, nor eight children could provide any useful leads—likely because Wei Helong had warned them to keep everything well hidden.
And most pressing of all—while the flood control plan was ready, a prescription for the epidemic remained elusive...
Ning Juan flipped through documents in the study, pondering each issue as he read, until the lampwick gave a soft "pop," snapping him out of his thoughts. He realized the watchman’s drum—one slow beat followed by three quick ones—had sounded some time ago. It was probably not far from the fifth watch (3–5 a.m.).
Having traveled from Jiangsu and Zhejiang to Jiangxi under the stars and moon, he had barely rested, hardly closing his eyes for days. Now, after working until this hour, even Ning Juan couldn’t help feeling weary.
He sat for a moment, then suddenly longed to see Lu Qingze. Acting on impulse, he stood and left the study.
The shadow guard silently followed with a lantern in hand.
It was the darkest hour before dawn, the surroundings utterly silent, everything shrouded in the cold stillness of night. Only the hazy, pale yellow light of the lantern illuminated the path ahead like melting snow.
With a large number of officials imprisoned, many rooms had been vacated. They were temporarily staying in the government offices of Ji'an Prefecture, and Lu Qingze was lodged in a guest courtyard, likely long asleep by now.
Ning Juan had originally intended to just take a look at Lu Qingze before leaving, but as he entered the courtyard, he noticed the candlelight still flickering in Lu Qingze’s room.
He paused, wondering if Lu Qingze had been too exhausted and forgotten to extinguish the candle before falling asleep. Signaling the shadow guard to stay outside, he walked over and gently knocked on the door.
Lu Qingze had just finished reviewing several volumes of official documents. After a quick wash and changing into his inner robes, he was about to lie down but was too tired to get up and blow out the candle. He was seriously considering whether to emulate martial arts masters and throw something to snuff it out.
Hearing the knock, he immediately guessed who it was. Leaning lazily against the bedside, his body and mind utterly drained, he had no desire to move. "Come in, the door isn’t barred."
Sure enough, the door opened, and Ning Juan stepped inside.
The young emperor carried a chill about him, and though faint shadows lurked under his eyes, his handsome face showed no trace of fatigue. His posture remained straight as a pine tree, exuding the natural grace and bearing of royalty.
Lu Qingze, on the other hand, was utterly exhausted, swaying drowsily. He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly with envy—youth truly is something else—before letting out a small yawn. "It’s so late. Shouldn’t you be resting? Is there something you need?"
Ning Juan did have one thing on his mind. His gaze dropped downward, settling between Lu Qingze’s legs. "Teacher, let me see your legs."
Lu Qingze choked on his yawn, abruptly wide awake.
________________________________________
Author’s Note:
What goes around comes around.
Ning Guoguo: Let me see those legs!
Lu Qingze: ???
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