A Different World - Chapter 7: The Veil of the Moon
In the fourth year of Yongchang, spring arrived late as heavy snow continued to fall over Qingdu. Cold winds swept the snowflakes through the palace paths, causing the lantern flames to flicker, and the thick snow, reflecting circles of red light, seemed even more mesmerizing.
As daylight broke, several ministers, wrapped in cloaks, crossed the palace paths. They hurried along without time for conversation, their expressions grave as they made their way toward Qinzhen Hall.
Chief Eunuch Wei Shun, along with two scribal eunuchs and two attending eunuchs from the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs, braved the snow with anxious expressions. When the ministers finally arrived, Wei Shun stepped forward to greet them. “My lords, you’ve finally arrived!”
“Apologies for keeping you waiting,” said Liu Puhe, Minister of Personnel, with a cordial smile as he approached the emperor’s trusted confidant. Glancing into the hall, he asked quietly, “Eunuch Wei, has His Majesty risen?”
“His Majesty has been waiting for some time. Please, my lords, enter quickly!” Wei Shun said, stepping aside to usher the six cabinet ministers into the hall for deliberation.
Earlier that morning, an urgent message had arrived—an embankment along the lower reaches of the Xu River had unexpectedly collapsed two days prior, inundating six counties and causing countless deaths and injuries among the people. Spring floods had yet to formally begin, yet this catastrophe struck. Fearing that if the situation worsened in the coming weeks, Jian and Yue prefectures downstream would suffer even greater calamities, the cabinet convened this emergency meeting to discuss countermeasures.
Inside Qinzhen Hall, the bronze brazier adorned with cloud patterns was filled with glowing silver charcoal, dispelling some of the chill clinging to the ministers’ cloaks. The Minister of Revenue and the Minister of Works knelt together behind the Ministers of Personnel and Rites, while the Ministers of War and Justice exchanged glances. Unwilling to involve themselves in the dispute, they knelt at the rear.
All six ministers bowed at the hall’s entrance, waiting for permission to enter. Only after receiving the emperor’s summons did they rise and step inside.
Xie Yuanrui’s face remained expressionless as he reviewed a memorial presented by the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs. Upon hearing the movement outside the hall, he lifted his gaze slightly.
Seeing the emperor’s solemn demeanor, the ministers dared not speak first, fearing they might inadvertently provoke his ire.
Liu Puhe, who had served as the cabinet’s chief minister for many years, understood the emperor’s displeasure stemmed from the flooding and took the lead in admitting fault. “Your Majesty, I humbly ask forgiveness for my failure to supervise properly!”
Xie Yuanrui arched a brow slightly, seizing the opportunity to question, “What failure?”
Liu Puhe bowed deeply, remorse evident. “Negligence in overseeing river management led to this disaster. We failed to detect the flood risk early, to implement preventative measures, and to evacuate the people in time, resulting in great calamity. As Minister of Personnel, I bear the blame for poor appointments and am unworthy of Your Majesty’s trust.”
Standing to one side, Wei Shun lowered his eyes, inwardly recognizing Liu Puhe’s clever maneuver. By appearing to take responsibility, Liu deflected blame from himself and shifted focus onto appointments, thus absolving himself of direct culpability for the disaster.
Xie Yuanrui narrowed his eyes slightly. Though he did not order Liu to rise, he also refrained from immediate reproach. Closing the memorial in his hands, he swept his gaze across the assembled ministers and asked, “Reports from the six affected counties indicate that this disaster was not caused by deliberate flood discharge but by the dilapidated state of the Xu River’s embankments. With the thawing of frost and snow, the embankments gave way under pressure. If the Ministry of Personnel failed in its appointments, what of the Ministry of Works?”
Qu Chengyao, Minister of Works, inhaled sharply and stepped forward to kneel. “Your Majesty, over the past four years, the Ministry of Works has repeatedly submitted requests to the cabinet for funds to repair the Xu River’s embankments. Yet the Ministry of Revenue, citing the urgency of disaster relief, has rejected these requests multiple times, delaying necessary repairs.”
The Minister of Revenue, Lin Gaoyi, felt the heat of scrutiny shift to his department. He quickly defended himself. “Your Majesty, last year, Jian and Yue prefectures were plagued by floods, and dealing with locust infestations in Yan and Ning prefectures became an urgent priority. After allocating funds for disaster relief, the national treasury was already under strain. Furthermore, with foreign threats looming at the borders, four million taels were diverted to the Ministry of War. There simply were no funds left for embankment repairs.”
Lin’s heartfelt explanation emphasized the unavoidable nature of these expenditures, portraying himself as a victim of circumstances rather than negligence.
Zong Hanming, who had been promoted to Minister of War the previous year for his contributions during the coastal conflicts, was unimpressed. Having long observed the self-serving nature of court officials, he stepped forward to kneel and said, “Your Majesty, I must speak.”
Turning to address Lin, Zong rebutted, “Minister Lin, while it’s true that Jian and Yue prefectures have repelled the Ryudao pirates, there’s no guarantee they won’t return. Coastal defenses must remain vigilant, and supply lines to the border garrisons must remain uninterrupted. Thanks to Your Majesty’s benevolence, our troops no longer march to war on empty stomachs. However, natural disasters continue to plague the land, forcing us to requisition supplies from unaffected areas, which incurs additional costs. Every expenditure is necessary for the defense of the realm. Yet you single out the Ministry of War’s expenses as excessive—how is that appropriate?”
Lin Gaoyi sighed heavily, bowing once more to the throne. “Your Majesty, as steward of the treasury, I am acutely aware of the kingdom’s financial strain. Minister Zong’s points are valid, yet the treasury cannot sustain such expenditures indefinitely. The nation is at its limit.”
Qu Chengyao seized the moment to propose a solution. “Your Majesty, the situation along the lower Xu River is critical. Repairs cannot be delayed, and the cabinet must balance these competing needs. I propose we widen the river channel, reinforce the upper embankments, and convert the Xu River into a canal. This would not only prevent spring flooding downstream but also facilitate the transport of supplies to Jian and Yue prefectures. Once peace is restored along the coast, we can establish a port at the river’s mouth to enable trade.”
Lin Gaoyi’s eyes lit up. “I support the Minister of Works’ proposal. This plan addresses the flooding issue, streamlines grain transport to the frontlines, and opens new opportunities for foreign trade. The profits from exporting our porcelain and silk alone could cover a year’s worth of national expenditures.”
“Water management, canal construction, and disaster relief—all in one,” Xie Yuanrui murmured, his tone suggesting approval. “A promising idea.”
Seeing the emperor’s favorable reaction, Liu Puhe seized the opportunity to offer his support. “Your Majesty, I humbly accept responsibility for poor oversight in appointing river inspectors and pledge to assist the Ministry of Works in overseeing the canal project.”
Qu Chengyao and Lin Gaoyi exchanged glances, recognizing Liu’s intent to insert himself into the project to exert influence. With the emperor showing no signs of opposition, they dared not challenge him directly, lest they incur charges of overstepping their bounds.
Xie Yuanrui regarded Liu with a hint of admiration. “This disaster was caused by local officials’ negligence, not solely by your failings. Rise.”
Turning to Wei Shun, the emperor added, “The canal project is a significant undertaking. Have the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs send men to assist. Ensure no further mistakes are made.”
Wei Shun bowed deeply. “As Your Majesty commands.”
The eunuchs from the Directorate knelt in unison, echoing his words.
In the hall, one man sat, six stood, and five knelt. Yet Liu Puhe and his peers understood that no faction had emerged victorious from this deliberation.
—
In the city of Jianzhou, white walls and blue-tiled roofs stretched endlessly, their silhouettes resembling waves. The horse-head eaves soared toward the sky, while red lanterns hanging beneath the roofs added a vibrant touch to the scene.
The streets bustled with pedestrians amidst lively chatter. Vendors called out to passersby, eager to sell their wares, but most of the crowd seemed to be heading toward the teahouse.
Inside, patrons filled every corner, all gathered around a low platform. As the storyteller ascended the stage, applause and cheers erupted.
One curious onlooker turned to a nearby guest and whispered, “Why is the teahouse so crowded today?”
The guest noticed that the person asking questions seemed unfamiliar and assumed they might be from another region. They explained, “Today’s tale is about bandits wreaking havoc, the Crimson Moon rising, vengeful ghosts, and a hero saving the people. Since you seem to be from out of town, listen, and you’ll understand!”
The storyteller opened his folding fan with one hand, shaking it lightly, then struck the clapper sharply to get everyone’s attention before beginning, “Ladies and gentlemen, please listen! It is said that back in the day, bandits were rampant. Taking advantage of the government’s preoccupation, a group of bandits gathered outside the city, calling themselves the Crimson Moon Sect. They invaded the city, committing arson, murder, and robbery. Our Jianzhou City was plunged into utter misery…”
The audience below sighed and lamented upon hearing about the tragedies that once plagued Jianzhou.
The storyteller, too, seemed mournful as he spoke to this point. Then, snapping his fan shut, he raised his voice, saying, “Do you know? On the night of the Crimson Moon in the first year of Yongchang, a righteous hero passed through this place. This individual possessed extraordinary martial skills, with a visage like a specter and movements like a phantom. Singlehandedly, they took on the Crimson Moon Sect and the mountain bandits, dismembering the leader of the sect into eight pieces!”
As his words grew more intense, the audience’s emotions tightened with anticipation. When they heard that the Crimson Moon Sect had been wiped out, they exclaimed in joy, calling it a great relief.
The storyteller waved his hand to quiet them, saying, “The tale doesn’t end there! After the Crimson Moon faded, and as the sun rose the next day, the mountain bandits of the Crimson Moon Sect were found tied up and dumped at the gates of Jianzhou City. Each of their foreheads bore a note with the words ‘These bandits are deserters; hand them over to the authorities for investigation.'”
The audience cried out “Heroic!” enthusiastically, with some even standing up to applaud. Yet the storyteller raised his hand to halt them.
He continued, “When the people heard the news and came to see, they found heaps of grain stolen by the bandits stacked beside the captured men. Digging further, they uncovered a broken plaque of the Crimson Moon Sect. This hero, to protect the peace of the region, decided to settle at the cliff of Qiong Mountain. News of this heroic deed spread far and wide, attracting other martial artists to come and pledge their allegiance. If you ask what that place atop Qiong Mountain is now called, it is named Zheyue Tower!”
“Bravo!” the guests cheered uncontrollably, clapping repeatedly. Among the crowd were martial artists hoping to join the sect, and upon hearing this, their hearts swelled with admiration.
The “outsider” who had asked earlier squeezed out of the lively crowd. Leaving the teahouse, he saw a hawker carrying a rack of candied hawthorns passing by.
“He always complains about bitterness and dislikes taking his medicine.” Ye Chang’an muttered to himself, following the hawker to buy a stick of candied hawthorns before heading back to Qiong Mountain outside the city.
It was rare for him to descend the mountain today, and unexpectedly, he ended up listening to a tale about himself. In the blink of an eye, they had been living here for four years. However, Ye Yin’s health showed no signs of improvement. The Left Divine Doctor was still searching for a permanent cure, with no timeline in sight.
“That person said Ye Yin’s martial skills are unparalleled, and that’s true. But… a visage like a specter and movements like a phantom?” Ye Chang’an frowned in displeasure. How could Ye Yin be like that? Those people were clearly spreading baseless rumors!
“Chang’an, you’re back.”
Hearing the voice, Ye Chang’an looked up, his eyes lighting up instantly. He strode forward in large steps.
Outside the mountain gate, pear blossoms were drifting down. A man in a long green robe, draped with a cloud-patterned dark crane cloak, stood there. His black hair cascaded like a waterfall, casually tied with a single ribbon. He seemed to have just risen from his bed and was smiling as he beckoned Ye Chang’an.
Author’s Note:
This chapter is more of a transitional one, so the protagonists don’t appear much.
Additionally, here’s a summary of the officials and characters introduced so far (though you don’t need to memorize them; I’ll continue to mention their titles later):
Minister of Personnel – Liu Puhe (also Grand Secretary of the Cabinet)
Minister of Revenue – Lin Gaoyi (also Deputy Grand Secretary of the Cabinet)
Minister of Works – Ju Chengyao
Minister of War – Zong Hanming (formerly Governor of Jianzhou)
General of Jianyue – Liang Jie (formerly General of Yuezhou)
General of Jianzhou – Zheng Hongyuan (killed by the General of Agile Cavalry during a rebellion)
Chief Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial – Wei Shun
Thank you for reading!