Becoming the Emperor’s Greatest Woe - Chapter 58

Chapter 58

 

The nights in Zefang County were always cold. Worried that the water would cool before use, the soldiers had brought in hot water, which now needed some time to cool down.

 

Inside the tent, mist swirled gently, softening the cold gleam of the armor.

 

By the time Jiang Yuxun realized what was happening, he was already sitting face-to-face with Ying Changchuan at the table inside the tent, with a cup of ginger tea in his hand.

 

Having already asked, Jiang Yuxun didn’t bother to hide his curiosity any longer: “… I don’t recall ever hearing about His Majesty being injured during wartime.”

 

In recent years, the Great Zhou had been in constant warfare, and Ying Changchuan had never had time to rest.

 

How did he manage to conquer the world despite such serious injuries?

 

Across the table, Ying Changchuan chuckled lightly and said casually, “This injury wasn’t sustained during war.”

 

“It wasn’t?” Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help but be surprised.

 

The mist in the tent curled around them, softening the sharpness usually seen in Ying Changchuan’s gaze.

 

Ying Changchuan picked up the snuffer and trimmed the wick of the candle. Then, he narrowed his eyes slightly, as though lost in recollection: “In the eleventh year of the Ling Emperor of the previous dynasty, the Zherou invaded Great Zhou. During that time, the Ling Tian Platform conducted multiple grand rituals to Xuantian, yet the battles remained dire, and the defeats continued.”

 

The slow, languid voice seemed to blend into the drifting mist.

 

Jiang Yuxun followed along, nodding lightly.

 

“The shamans then advised the Ling Emperor that the rituals had failed because the sacrificial offerings were not of high enough status. Only by offering a more noble human sacrifice to Xuantian could the tide of war be reversed.”

 

Jiang Yuxun’s eyes widened in shock.

 

In the previous dynasty, it wasn’t only slaves who were sacrificed.

 

Nobles, and even members of the royal family, were considered higher-grade offerings.

 

By now, Jiang Yuxun could almost guess what had happened next…

 

“And so, the Marquis of Jing proposed that his second son be used as a human sacrifice for the grand ritual to Xuantian. The Ling Tian Platform readily agreed,” Ying Changchuan said slowly.

 

As expected!

 

Jiang Yuxun’s grip on his cup of ginger tea tightened, and his breathing halted.

 

—The Marquis of Jing was a devout follower of the Ling Tian Platform and desperate to curry favor with the royal family. His second son was none other than Ying Changchuan himself!

 

“What happened next?” Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help but ask.

 

The candlelight reflected in Ying Changchuan’s dark eyes, making his gaze unusually bright.

 

At that time, during the eleventh year of the Ling Emperor, Ying Changchuan would have been around ten years old.

 

Jiang Yuxun couldn’t imagine how he could have escaped on his own.

 

At this point, Ying Changchuan suddenly began to smile faintly: “Just as they were about to act, the Zherou retreated.”

 

In the summer of the eleventh year of the Ling Emperor, a severe drought struck the Zherou, and rivers ran dry.

 

Relying on livestock for survival, the Zherou had moved south to invade Great Zhou, but mid-battle, the rains unexpectedly came.

 

The Zherou soldiers, now preoccupied with tending to their cattle and sheep, lost interest in fighting and withdrew.

 

The war ended with the previous dynasty paying reparations and tributes.

 

With the war over, the ritual was naturally called off.

 

Everyone tacitly agreed never to speak of the mistaken divination again, except for Ying Changchuan, who had nearly become a “sacrifice” and burned the memory deep into his mind.

 

So that’s how it was…

 

At last, Jiang Yuxun understood.

 

After experiencing such ridiculous events,

 

how could he not despise the Ling Tian Platform!

 

… But that said, where did Ying Changchuan’s injuries come from?

 

Jiang Yuxun unconsciously asked what was on his mind.

 

“The Marquis of Jing fell gravely ill and resorted to the same trick, seeking out shamans to extend his life,” Ying Changchuan said indifferently as he took a sip of tea. “Unfortunately, before anything could be done, he was killed in the chaos by the ‘sacrifice.’”

 

Though his words carried a trace of humor, Jiang Yuxun felt chills rise from the bottom of his heart.

 

It wasn’t hard to guess that the “sacrifice” Ying Changchuan referred to was himself.

 

Jiang Yuxun asked softly, “Is that when Your Majesty got the injury?”

 

“Hmm,” Ying Changchuan said with a smile, nodding.

 

Jiang Yuxun felt his palms break into a cold sweat.

 

—Ying Changchuan had killed the Marquis of Jing amid the chaos, and the incident had been suppressed by his mother, with the official story being that the Marquis had died of illness.

 

Once he recovered from his injuries, he was sent to the military.

 

At the end of the Chu Dynasty, chaos reigned from the top of the court to the common folk.

 

Brothers killing brothers and fathers killing sons was hardly rare.

 

But the Marquis of Jing hadn’t tried to kill Ying Changchuan for power or wealth—it was all because of some so-called “ritual.”

 

It was absurd!

 

Jiang Yuxun’s heart skipped a beat.

 

The lingering mist dampened Jiang Yuxun’s eyelashes.

 

Seeing his complicated expression, Ying Changchuan couldn’t help but smile and ask, “What’s with that look, my dear minister?”

 

Jiang Yuxun didn’t think the word “pitiful” fit Ying Changchuan, but he still bit his lip and instinctively said, “Your Majesty has indeed had it rough.”

 

Wait—

 

Who in this world would dare to casually call an emperor “pitiful”?!

 

Realizing that his words were inappropriate, Jiang Yuxun immediately fell silent. After a moment’s pause, he put down his tea cup, looked into Ying Changchuan’s eyes, and said very earnestly, “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I shouldn’t have said that…”

 

Ying Changchuan looked at him in slight surprise.

 

In Jiang Yuxun’s clear, dark eyes, there was only his reflection. His gaze was unlike any Ying Changchuan had ever seen—genuinely earnest.

 

As the Son of Heaven, Ying Changchuan had seen countless people cower in fear or plead desperately before him.

 

But it was the first time someone had ever apologized to him…

 

Ying Changchuan was momentarily stunned by the unfamiliar emotion.

 

“Ah, wait, no,” Jiang Yuxun quickly corrected himself. “I shouldn’t have said you…”

 

Perhaps being too far from Zhao Du, he had somehow gotten into the habit of forgetting to use formal language… This was a problem he needed to fix.

 

“No matter,” Ying Changchuan smiled slightly as he stood up. “It’s getting late; the water should have cooled.”

 

Seeing that he wished to end the conversation, Jiang Yuxun stood as well and escorted the emperor out of the tent. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

As the felt curtain was lifted, a gust of cold wind blew in through the gap.

 

Jiang Yuxun suddenly recalled the events Ying Changchuan had mentioned—none of it was recorded in the History of Zhou.

 

Ying Changchuan’s mother had passed away several years ago.

 

Now, in this world… wasn’t he the only one, along with Ying Changchuan himself, who knew about this?

 

This was truly a hidden chapter of history.

 

A strange emotion arose in Jiang Yuxun’s heart.

 

“Your Majesty—”

 

Just as Ying Changchuan was stepping out, Jiang Yuxun called him back.

 

“What is it, dear minister?”

 

The dim candlelight mixed with the mist, casting a glow behind Jiang Yuxun.

 

He looked at Ying Changchuan very seriously and said, “Your Majesty, rest assured. I will keep today’s events a secret. No third person will know of this.”

 

The Marquis of Jing’s death could not be made public.

 

Jiang Yuxun didn’t know why Ying Changchuan trusted him so, but he knew he could not betray that trust.

 

Hearing this, Ying Changchuan couldn’t help but smile.

 

Noticing Ying Changchuan’s faint amusement, Jiang Yuxun grew anxious. “Does Your Majesty not believe me?”

 

Clad in dark robes, Ying Changchuan paused in his steps. He suddenly turned to look at Jiang Yuxun.

 

For once, his usual smile disappeared. Staring seriously into Jiang Yuxun’s eyes, he said, “Of course I believe you.”

 

Thin wisps of steam filled the tent, and the scent of dragon incense seemed to grow stronger.

 

After enduring an entire day, Jiang Yuxun finally sat in the bath barrel as he wished.

 

The water, cooled for a while, was now just the right temperature.

 

Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help but take a deep breath, slowly sinking his body into the water.

 

His long, dark hair spread out on the water’s surface.

 

But before he could fully relax, he suddenly became aware of something: this was Ying Changchuan’s domain.

 

“Cough, cough…” Jiang Yuxun accidentally choked on some water and sat up abruptly in the barrel.

 

Through the gaps in the screen, he could see the battle armor hanging on the clothes rack.

 

—It was the same armor Ying Changchuan had worn that day.

 

Jiang Yuxun instinctively averted his gaze.

 

However, just as his hand touched the outer edge of the bath barrel, a strange thought suddenly popped into Jiang Yuxun’s mind… Did Ying Changchuan also touch this?

 

There was only one bathing room in this camp.

 

Not only had Ying Changchuan used it, but he would definitely use it again.

 

Jiang Yuxun: !!!

 

Thinking of this, he pulled his hand back as if scalded by fire.

 

To prevent fires, no incense had been burned in the tent.

 

However, the faint scent of dragon musk now seemed to wrap around Jiang Yuxun.

 

The entire tent was filled with traces left by Ying Changchuan.

 

Jiang Yuxun took a deep breath.

 

No, why am I even feeling awkward?

 

It’s not like I haven’t used a bathtub in modern hotels before…

 

At this thought, Jiang Yuxun instantly relaxed.

 

As a true native of the feudal era, Ying Changchuan didn’t care, so why should I have a problem with it?

 

The ceramic water jar in the military camp was small, and the water turned cold quickly. It had been a long time since Jiang Yuxun had enjoyed a proper soak.

 

After convincing himself, Jiang Yuxun took another deep breath and slowly submerged himself into the wooden tub again.

 

※

 

Wheat is usually sown in spring between the beginning of spring and Qingming Festival.

 

After receiving the wheat seeds, the group could not afford to linger any longer.

 

The location for the military horse farm had been chosen, and the time for Jiang Yuxun and the others to leave Zefang County had come.

 

Before leaving, they spent another day traveling east, to the area near the Cishui River, located dozens of miles outside the Zhenbei Army camp.

 

The Cishui River is the largest river in the northern region, flowing from the west toward the southeast.

 

Zefang County did not receive much rainfall, and irrigation relied on this river and its tributaries.

 

The wasteland cultivated by the Zhenbei Army was near the upper reaches of this river.

 

The downstream areas, which were more convenient for irrigation and farther from the threat of the Zhezhuo tribe, were left unused for the time being.

 

Of course, the Great Zhou Dynasty would not allow this land to go to waste.

 

…

 

A thin layer of clouds appeared in the sky above Zefang County.

 

A light rain fell, and the once barren land suddenly grew greener.

 

Accompanied by officials from Zefang County, Jiang Yuxun and the others stood at a slightly higher vantage point, gazing into the distance. Although the land was still uncultivated, small villages stood quietly every few miles.

 

After the Qingming Festival, people from the vicinity of Zhaodu would begin migrating here.

 

While carrying out land reclamation, the laborers of Zefang County had also started constructing houses in the area.

 

The midday sun was somewhat intense, causing Jiang Yuxun to squint as he looked into the distance.

 

An official from Zefang County introduced, “…To make life more convenient for the people, the newly built houses are all structured as ‘one main hall with two rooms.’ In addition to the hall, we have built each household a latrine and a pigsty. Plenty of open space has also been reserved for future expansions.”

 

As he spoke, the official led them to inspect one of the newly built houses closely. “This way, my lords.”

 

Walking at the front, Jiang Yuxun reached out to touch the wall and curiously asked, “May I ask, sir, what materials were used to build these walls?”

 

Jiang Yuxun was especially focused when working.

 

Perhaps having faced enough embarrassment in the past, he now carried a calm demeanor, as if accustomed to weathering all sorts of storms.

 

Seeing this, the Zefang County official became equally serious. “In response to Lord Jiang’s inquiry, the walls are made of wood, straw, and mud—all locally sourced materials. It takes about a month to build one house.”

 

Jiang Yuxun smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.

 

The house’s interior had no furniture yet, only a heated earthen platform built in one corner of the room.

 

The winters in Zefang County were harsh, and this platform was the sole means of keeping warm.

 

As they spoke, the group walked out of the house.

 

The local official guided them to the backyard behind the hall. “Here are the latrine and pigsty.”

 

Jiang Yuxun and his entourage followed closely behind.

 

The so-called “latrine and pigsty” were actually one combined structure.

 

In the Great Zhou dynasty and neighboring periods, families capable of affording it often raised pigs at home.

 

The pigsty was connected to a slightly elevated latrine, forming a characteristic “combined latrine-pigsty” unique to the era.

 

This setup saved space, facilitated composting, and reduced waste pollution.

 

Ancient people revered the dead as they did the living, so archaeologists in later generations often discovered models of these combined structures in tombs.

 

The museum where Jiang Yuxun worked had an entire display case filled with these pottery models.

 

Having grown accustomed to seeing miniature models, this was Jiang Yuxun’s first time encountering a real combined latrine-pigsty.

 

As he inspected it closely, he curiously asked, “Where do the livestock come from?”

 

Noticing his interest, the Zefang County official became even more detailed in his explanations. “If the people wish to, they can rent piglets from the government. Once they’ve raised them, they only need to return piglets of equivalent value.”

 

“As for oxen and farming tools, each set is provided per ‘lü’.”

 

The immigrants in this borderland were organized into groups of 25 households per lü, living in close proximity to each other—somewhat resembling modern residential communities.

 

In addition to housing, each lü was equipped with a cowshed and a small granary.

 

These granaries were wooden pavilions, designed to provide ventilation and prevent moisture and decay.

 

The lü still appeared somewhat simple, but it already had the potential for further development.

 

Hearing this, Jiang Yuxun nodded slightly.

 

By now, he had followed the county governor to an open space behind the house.

 

Recalling the spinach seeds painstakingly brought back from Zherou, Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help but pause.

 

This spot seemed suitable for growing vegetables.

 

In this era, merely filling one’s stomach was already difficult, and most people had no concept of supplementing nutrition with vegetables.

 

But to Jiang Yuxun, these two ideas were not mutually exclusive.

 

He silently noted this down in his mind.

 

Zefang County’s location was highly suitable for cultivating spinach.

 

Once the seeds were more abundant, they could be promoted among the local farmers.

 

—

 

The carriage traveled east along the Ci River.

 

All along the way were lü settlements similar to this one.

 

Jiang Yuxun sat by the carriage window, gazing outside.

 

Both sides of the Ci River were lined with half-meter-wide irrigation channels. Since the people had not yet arrived, the points where these channels connected to the river were blocked by wooden boards.

 

As he watched, Jiang Yuxun muttered, “Something seems missing…”

 

The land of Zefang County was extremely flat, stretching out in a vast expanse of brown that extended to the horizon, creating an impressive sight.

 

“Missing?” The official sitting in the same carriage couldn’t help but ask, “The lü settlements here were modeled after those near Zhaodu. Everything should be in place.”

 

Modeled after Zhaodu?

 

Hearing this, Jiang Yuxun suddenly realized what felt off.

 

“I know now!” Jiang Yuxun lifted the carriage curtain and looked outside. “Near Zhaodu, almost every household has a well, and the Yihe River runs through the area, so there’s no lack of water. But Zefang County is different.”

 

The Ci River, originating from snow-capped mountains, flowed swiftly eastward, yet its banks remained barren.

 

Even though it was already early spring, only sparse greenery could be seen.

 

At Jiang Yuxun’s words, the official sitting beside him immediately understood. “That’s right! Here in Zefang County, there’s only one well per lü. If there’s a severe drought in any given year, there could be a major crisis.”

 

The officials of Zefang County were not locals, and having yet to adapt to the region’s climate, they had overlooked this seemingly minor issue.

 

The realization left the official with a sense of dread.

 

Jiang Yuxun nodded. “Although the past few years have seen ample rainfall, it’s best to take precautions. Reservoirs should be dug near every lü to ensure at least one season’s supply of water for daily use and irrigation.”

 

“Absolutely!” The official nodded fervently. “This must be prioritized immediately; it cannot wait until after the land is fully cultivated.”

 

As he spoke, Jiang Yuxun instinctively reached to his right. “One moment, let me jot this down.”

 

“Yes, Lord Jiang.”

 

Jiang Yuxun often kept his notebook in this spot.

 

However, today, there was nothing beside the carriage wall, and his hand came up empty.

 

Jiang Yuxun froze for a moment before recalling that his notebook seemed to have been lost.

 

Thinking about the contents of the notebook, he asked the others hopefully, “Has anyone seen my notebook on this carriage?”

 

“Notebook?” The official beside him shook his head blankly. “I haven’t seen it.”

 

“I see.” Jiang Yuxun nodded, disappointed.

 

It seemed the notebook had indeed been left behind in the northern region.

 

—

 

Early the next morning, the group was set to return to Zhaodu.

 

Jiang Yuxun had just returned from the Ci River and was preparing to pack his belongings when a soldier entered his tent and said, “Lord Jiang, His Majesty has summoned you to the main tent.”

 

“Understood,” Jiang Yuxun replied, standing up. He couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Did His Majesty mention the reason?”

 

As he spoke, he lifted the felt curtain and stepped outside.

 

The soldier thought for a moment before answering, “It seems to be about the reclamation effort.”

 

“I see…”

 

Before leaving the Northern Army camp for Zherou, Jiang Yuxun had instructed a soldier to deliver his notes on the reclamation effort to the Emperor. It seemed the Emperor had finished reviewing them and wished to discuss the matter further.

 

It was around six or seven in the evening, and the sun was gradually sinking below the horizon.

 

Jiang Yuxun followed the soldier toward the tent where Ying Changchuan was staying.

 

Rain had fallen the day before, leaving puddles scattered across the ground.

 

Jiang Yuxun walked carefully, watching his step.

 

Just as they entered the camp, and before they reached the tent, the soldier stopped in his tracks.

 

Jiang Yuxun stopped as well, puzzled. “Why did you—”

 

In the next moment, he saw the Emperor, clad in a crimson robe, standing not far away, his eyes downcast as he looked at him.

 

Jiang Yuxun quickly halted his words and saluted. “Your Majesty.”

 

“At ease,” Ying Changchuan said softly. “Did you visit the banks of the Ci River today?”

 

The soldier who had escorted Jiang Yuxun retreated to a distance.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

Jiang Yuxun recalled the scenes from the day and reported, “The new settlements along the Ci River have all been completed. When the people arrive next month, they can move in immediately.” He paused before adding, “However, my colleagues and I agree that reservoirs should be dug near the settlements as soon as possible.”

 

Ying Changchuan nodded in agreement and casually flipped through a notebook. “Anything else to add, Minister?”

 

The soft rustle of pages reached Jiang Yuxun’s ears.

 

Was there something else?

 

Jiang Yuxun tensed up.

 

If Ying Changchuan phrased it this way, could it mean there was some oversight in the reclamation plan?

 

He racked his brain and, recalling later historical developments, asked tentatively, “Does Your Majesty think it’s necessary to build frontier roads in Zefang County?”

 

In later generations, roads were constructed in the northern regions, intersecting with the north-south official roads to form a vast network.

 

With the impending arrival of settlers, perhaps road construction should indeed be considered.

 

The more Jiang Yuxun thought about it, the more reasonable his guess seemed.

 

He looked earnestly at Ying Changchuan. “The northern regions are predominantly flat, making road construction relatively easy. Once completed, it would not only facilitate troop movements but also improve local transportation in Zefang County.”

 

Although this matter wasn’t urgent, it wouldn’t hurt to plan for it in the future.

 

Ying Changchuan paused his page-turning. “What you said makes sense.”

 

Then, he shifted his gaze back to the notebook in his hand. “The reclamation effort you proposed has been reviewed. Proceed as planned.”

 

Yesterday’s spring rain had pooled into small puddles, softening the ground and inviting a hint of green.

 

A gentle breeze swept across the grassland, rustling the Emperor’s crimson robe and lending him a lazy air.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Relieved by Ying Changchuan’s response, Jiang Yuxun stepped forward and accepted the notebook with both hands.

 

Ying Changchuan handed it over with ease.

 

“Huh?”

 

Strange—why did Ying Changchuan still have another notebook?

 

Jiang Yuxun looked at the Emperor’s hand with suspicion.

 

“What are you looking at, Minister?”

 

Was it his imagination, or was there something odd about Ying Changchuan’s tone?

 

Jiang Yuxun asked bluntly, “Why does Your Majesty have another notebook?”

 

Ying Changchuan smiled faintly and held it out.

 

Jiang Yuxun instinctively stepped closer to take a look.

 

Notebooks of this era had silk-covered bindings that couldn’t be written on.

 

As Jiang Yuxun puzzled over what this could be, a gust of wind blew across the puddles, flipping the notebook open.

 

Eight large characters appeared before his eyes: Be cautious in word and deed.

 

Jiang Yuxun: !!!

 

Wait, how did this notebook end up in Ying Changchuan’s hands?

 

Even if you’re the Emperor, you can’t just take someone’s personal belongings!

 

… I must have misjudged him!

 

Jiang Yuxun’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at Ying Changchuan in disbelief.

 

Before he could gather his thoughts, Ying Changchuan asked with feigned curiosity, “Don’t you recognize it, Minister?”

 

Better to be shattered into pieces than lose integrity.

 

… Might as well kill me now, Ying Changchuan!

 

Still reeling, Jiang Yuxun blurted out without thinking, “This—this is my notebook! Why did Your Majesty steal it?”

 

Ying Changchuan’s expression remained composed as he replied, “This was delivered to me by your soldier.”

 

His tone was as calm as ever, yet Jiang Yuxun detected a mix of justification and innocence.

 

Jiang Yuxun froze and quickly pieced it together.

 

The soldier must have grabbed the wrong notebook!

 

Damn, I misunderstood Ying Changchuan?

 

And I just spoke to him in that tone—will this end badly…

 

Realizing the misunderstanding, Jiang Yuxun immediately softened.

 

“This…” Jiang Yuxun hesitated, intending to apologize, but Ying Changchuan’s gaze had already shifted back to the notebook.

 

The setting sun awakened the grassland from its winter slumber, painting the shallow puddles red.

 

A gentle breeze rippled the surface, reflecting the wavering silhouettes of Ying Changchuan and Jiang Yuxun.

 

Clad in a sky-blue robe, the young minister tried to maintain his composure. “Your Majesty, please return the notebook to me—”

 

Although he wasn’t sure how much Ying Changchuan had read, Jiang Yuxun instinctively reached out to block it.

 

Ying Changchuan gave him no chance.

 

Sensing Jiang Yuxun’s intentions, the Emperor casually raised the notebook higher.

 

Caught off guard, Jiang Yuxun immediately stood on tiptoe to grab it.

 

But just as his fingers brushed the edge, Ying Changchuan stepped back.

 

The notebook slipped away again!

 

Unbelievable—why was Ying Changchuan acting so childish?

 

Frustrated, Jiang Yuxun lunged forward to snatch it again.

 

This time, his fingers finally touched the notebook’s edge.

 

A flock of wild geese flew northward.

 

Small shadows rippled in the puddle, breaking the red-tinted reflection.

 

A faint scent of dragon musk lingered in the air as Jiang Yuxun, just about to grab the notebook, suddenly realized—he and Ying Changchuan were now less than a hand’s width apart.

 

This… seemed a bit too close.

 

The Qingming Festival, also known as Tomb-Sweeping Day, is a traditional Chinese festival observed in early April (usually around April 4th or 5th). It is a time for families to honor their ancestors by visiting their graves, cleaning the tombstones, and making offerings such as food, tea, and incense. The festival also marks the arrival of spring, and many people take the opportunity to enjoy outdoor activities like picnics or flying kites.