Becoming the Emperor’s Greatest Woe - Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Night had fallen, and the Xianyou Palace was cloaked in tranquility.

Only the rear hall of the Liuyun Hall remained lively late into the night.

Jiang Yuxun had just finished recounting all the recent events in Zherou in one breath, and finally couldn’t suppress a yawn.

The emperor glanced at Jiang Yuxun through the gaps in the peony branches. Twirling the cup in his hand, he smiled and nodded. “My dear minister is now capable of handling matters independently.”

Hearing this, Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help but curve his lips slightly. Then, quickly feigning maturity, he cleared his throat. “Ahem… Your Majesty is too kind.”

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but recall what happened on the day he first transmigrated here.

Tsk tsk, fortunately, Ying Changchuan didn’t actually kill me back then. Otherwise, how could I have come this far today?

Jiang Yuxun thought he had hidden his emotions well, but little did he know, his thoughts were written all over his face.

The candle flames in the bronze lamps flickered.

They cast a soft glow on Jiang Yuxun’s face.

That faint hint of pride on his lips fell clearly into the emperor’s eyes.

Ying Changchuan lowered his gaze toward Jiang Yuxun and deliberately asked, “Does my dear minister think I’m exaggerating?”

Jiang Yuxun: …!

I was just being polite! Why isn’t Ying Changchuan following the usual script…

He bit his lip. “Not really.”

After speaking, he instinctively cleared his throat, his earlobes tinged with a faint red.

Ying Changchuan chuckled in response.

…He’s mocking me, isn’t he?!

Feeling somewhat annoyed, Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help but toy with the peony placed beside the table. Then, deliberately, he said to Ying Changchuan, “Fortunately, Your Majesty didn’t kill me that day. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had any chance to prove myself.”

Emphasizing the word “kill,” the grudgeful Jiang Yuxun seemed to remind Ying Changchuan: Look at the capable minister before you—he was almost gone.

Outside Liuyun Hall, the call of a cuckoo bird suddenly echoed.

Moments later, its fluttering wings passed above the hall.

Ying Changchuan’s hand paused abruptly, as if reminded of that day by Jiang Yuxun’s words.

Seeing this, Jiang Yuxun finally smiled with satisfaction.

Just as he thought Ying Changchuan would let the matter slide, the emperor suddenly looked at him and softly asked, “Is my dear minister displeased?”

“Hmm?” Jiang Yuxun froze for a moment before responding honestly, “That day, I was mainly afraid that Your Majesty truly harbored murderous intent. I didn’t have time to think about anything else.”

His words carried a faint trace of grievance.

Outside, light rain began to fall.

The drops tapped gently against the eaves like tiny needles.

Amid the soft sounds outside, Ying Changchuan chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t kill you.”

The emperor’s tone seemed no different from usual, yet Jiang Yuxun detected a hint of earnestness.

A moment later, he realized: But mere words aren’t proof.

What if Ying Changchuan was just joking?

Jiang Yuxun, unwilling to be so easily deceived, hesitated for a moment before muttering softly, “Words are but wind.”

“What does my dear minister propose, then?” Ying Changchuan’s patience seemed endless.

As an emperor, he rarely cared about others’ opinions or feelings.

Yet at this moment, not only did his heart sink slightly at Jiang Yuxun’s words, but a rare pang of guilt also emerged.

—Ying Changchuan didn’t want Jiang Yuxun to feel uneasy over such matters anymore.

Caught off guard by the question, Jiang Yuxun seriously pondered for a moment before replying earnestly, “…At the very least, write it down, perhaps?”

…Wait!

Who asks an emperor to write a pledge?

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jiang Yuxun realized he might have gone too far.

What if Ying Changchuan had only asked casually? His answer would seem presumptuous.

Just as he was about to backtrack, the emperor nodded seriously and said, “What you suggest makes sense.”

With that, he picked up a brush from the table.

Jiang Yuxun was stunned. “…Really?”

Had Ying Changchuan been drinking today?

Before he could react, the emperor was already poised to write.

As he prepared to inscribe the pledge, he asked with a smile, “Do you have any particular wording in mind?”

This was a rare chance not to be missed.

Seeing the emperor genuinely about to comply, Jiang Yuxun quickly leaned over the table, propping himself up with his elbows.

Though he had been in this world for nearly a year, his grasp of classical language was still shockingly poor.

“Uh… Just write that Your Majesty promises not to kill Jiang Yuxun unless for matters of principle. And maybe stamp it with a seal or something?” As he said this, he suddenly recalled a phrase. “Something like… exempt from death, except for treason?”

“Very well.”

Without hesitation, Ying Changchuan began writing as instructed.

The spring rain lightly tapped against the window frames.

In that moment, Jiang Yuxun clearly heard… Ying Changchuan chuckle.

Jiang Yuxun held his breath.

The seven large characters, “免死除谋反大逆” (Exempt from death, except for treason), were written in stately script. Every stroke was deliberate and dignified.

Finally, Ying Changchuan took out the jade imperial seal he always carried.

The jade seal, carved from fine Hetian jade, shimmered gently in the lamplight.

Without hesitation, Ying Changchuan pressed it firmly onto the written pledge.

The series of actions was so smooth and fluid that it left Jiang Yuxun momentarily dazed.

“Make sure you keep it safe.”

Ying Changchuan was completely serious!

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Jiang Yuxun finally came to his senses and carefully took the pledge with both hands.

The candlelight dimmed abruptly.

A breeze blew from behind, carrying a trace of the spring rain’s chill and lifting a strand of hair that brushed against Ying Changchuan’s hand.

Startled, Jiang Yuxun instinctively tried to tuck the stray hair back.

Unexpectedly, in the next instant, his fingers brushed against Ying Changchuan’s hand.

“Hiss—”

Ying Changchuan’s hand trembled slightly.

Jiang Yuxun, as though electrocuted, quickly pulled his hand back. He clutched the “exemption token” tightly and stammered, “Well… Your Majesty, it’s late. May I take my leave?”

“Go ahead.” Ying Changchuan nodded, putting away the jade seal.

Relieved, Jiang Yuxun stood, bowed, and swiftly walked out.

A draft swept through the corridor, carrying the chill of spring rain as it settled on Jiang Yuxun’s body.

The cold seeped down his neck.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Wait, I haven’t done anything wrong. Why am I running?

—

Winter wheat in Yihe Plain had reached a critical stage of growth.

On his day off, Jiang Yuxun returned home early, bringing the Xuanyin Bureau with him.

Nearly a year had passed.

The Jiang family’s estate was no longer the desolate place it was last year.

Not only had the distillery taken shape, but the estate now boasted numerous man-made greenhouses.

However, the most significant change was the cultivated land.

Most of the estate’s land had been cleared.

With the advent of spring, every corner was tinged with lush greenery.

Early in the morning, Jiang Yuxun was roused by Liu Run, one of the estate stewards.

—The tenants were scheduled to irrigate the estate’s wheat fields today, and Jiang Yuxun had returned specifically for this.

Though spring mornings were chilly, Jiang Yuxun tightened his coat, yawning as he trudged toward the fields behind the small hill.

Before he reached the fields, the estate workers greeted him loudly:

“Good morning, young master!”

“You’re up so early, young master!”

“It’s still early, young master. Rest for now, and we’ll call you at noon—”

To the estate workers, Jiang Yuxun was practically a godsend.

Seeing their young master appear so early at the fields, they were both excited and concerned for his rest.

Spring irrigation required caution to prevent frost damage, so it was scheduled around noon.

Technically, Jiang Yuxun didn’t need to arrive so early.

Hearing their greetings, Jiang Yuxun yawned lightly and quickened his pace. “I wanted to check how you’re setting up the irrigation system.”

“Almost done!” The workers parted to reveal a bamboo pipeline.

This was the “thirsty crow” Jiang Yuxun had mentioned earlier.

Jiang Yuxun crouched to inspect the bamboo pipe, checking its connections.

The workers had sealed the joints with mud the night before to prevent leaks.

Now the mud had dried, and the pipe was tightly sealed.

As he carefully examined the setup, the sound of hoofbeats suddenly approached from a distance. Jiang Yuxun instinctively looked up.

Zhuang Yue, the Grand Overseer of National Agriculture, and Cao Shenming, the newly appointed Director of Agricultural Records, had arrived early at the Jiang family estate.

Jiang Yuxun hurriedly rose to greet them. “I didn’t expect you both to arrive so early. Please forgive my lack of preparation.”

Zhuang Yue waved dismissively with a smile. “Carry on with your work. Don’t mind us.”

The younger official, Cao Shenming, dismounted and bowed to Jiang Yuxun. “Apologies for the intrusion, Sir Jiang.”

The previous Director of Agricultural Records had been dismissed last year due to involvement in a coup attempt.

Cao Shenming had only recently been promoted and still carried a hint of caution in his demeanor.

“You’re too kind, Sir Cao,” Jiang Yuxun replied, leading the two officials toward the hill and inspecting the bamboo pipes along the way. “Watch your step, both of you.”

The Yihe Plain was mostly flat, but small hills and slopes dotted the landscape.

For example, there was a small hill on the Jiang estate.

Building irrigation channels in such terrain was not only challenging but also labor-intensive.

Last year, the estate was too busy to carve out proper irrigation channels.

In Jiang Yuxun’s view, constructing channels around the hill would be overly troublesome.

Instead, he had taken out a diagram he had drawn and handed it to the workers, instructing them to follow it to build an irrigation system.

—The current “thirsty crow” was the result.

A long bamboo pipeline connected the river on one side and the fields on the other, crossing over the hill.

Today’s irrigation would draw water from here.

The younger Cao Shenming was preoccupied with examining the system closely, occasionally fiddling with it.

Zhuang Yue, however, couldn’t help but reconfirm with Jiang Yuxun. “Are you sure this pipe can draw water uphill?”

Jiang Yuxun nodded confidently. “The workers tested it a few days ago. Rest assured, Sir Zhuang.”

“…Very well.”

Zhuang Yue came to the manor today with serious business to attend to.

The Jiang family manor now serves as an “experimental base.”

All new inventions must first be tested here before being promoted elsewhere.

Zhuang Yue and Cao Shenming were here this time to see for themselves whether the “Thirsty Crow” was as miraculous as Jiang Yuxun claimed.

Before noon, Jiang Yuxun led Zhuang Yue and Cao Shenming around the mountain, ensuring there were no leaks in the bamboo water pipes, before heading downhill toward the river.

The sun had unknowingly risen to its zenith, with the si hour nearly over. As the temperature gradually rose, it was time for irrigation.

Although the device had already been tested, the workers were still nervous.

The worker next to Jiang Yuxun glanced at the sky and asked hesitantly, “Young Master, shall we begin now?”

“Go ahead,” Jiang Yuxun nodded.

“Yes, Young Master!”

Five or six workers moved to a clearing nearby, retrieving the straw that had been placed there earlier.

They stacked it by the bamboo pipe’s opening and bent down to ignite the straw.

A muffled “whoosh” reached Jiang Yuxun’s ears.

The dried straw instantly burst into fierce flames.

Jiang Yuxun coughed from the smoke and took several steps back with the others. “Careful of the flames.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

For a moment, the only sound by the fields was the crackling of burning straw.

Everyone held their breath as they moved along the mountain toward the fields, eyes fixed on the Thirsty Crow device set up on the slope.

Irrigation is a crucial part of farming. Without a stable water supply, no amount of newly cultivated land would make a difference.

The barren lands along the Yi River that are easy to irrigate had either already been reclaimed or allocated long ago.

What remained were fragmented fields blocked by hills, difficult to develop and nearly impossible to reach with irrigation canals.

If the Thirsty Crow truly worked, it could draw water across mountains, paving the way for another wave of land reclamation.

At this thought, everyone unconsciously came to the same conclusion.

Before long, the bamboo pipes by the fields had turned pitch black from the smoke.

The group circled the low hill, returning to the field.

Another group of workers was already waiting there, tools in hand, eyes fixed on the bamboo pipe’s outlet, ready for the water’s arrival.

No one knew how much time had passed. Cao Shenming, the younger of the two visitors, was the first to lose patience. “Master Jiang, how long does it take for the Thirsty Crow to draw water up the mountain?”

He gripped his hands tightly, looking visibly anxious.

In contrast, Jiang Yuxun appeared much calmer. He pursed his lips and said, “It should be soon.”

Almost as soon as he spoke, someone exclaimed loudly, “I hear something!”

They clutched their spade tightly.

Cao Shenming’s eyes widened. “Where?”

Everyone shifted their gaze downward, immediately focusing on the bamboo pipe by the fields.

The crackling of burning straw echoed faintly around the hill, creating some noise.

But at that moment, Jiang Yuxun distinctly heard the “drip-drip” sound of water falling from within the bamboo pipe.

He instinctively stepped forward.

“Be careful—” Zhuang Yue reached out to pull him back, only to see a stream of water gush out from the bamboo pipe.

His eyes widened immediately. “It works! The Thirsty Crow really works!”

The next moment, he excitedly looked back up at the hill.

The bamboo pipes laid across the ground wobbled slightly from the water’s force, producing crisp creaking sounds.

The flow at the pipe’s outlet grew stronger, quickly surging into the small channels between the fields and then spilling into the wheat fields.

Moments earlier, Cao Shenming’s tense expression gave way to elation. “This is fantastic! The barren lands near Xianyou Palace can now be reclaimed this year!”

He finally unclenched his hands as he spoke.

Zhuang Yue nodded emphatically. “Absolutely!”

Cao Shenming clapped his hands in delight. “In the future, we could coat the pipes with lacquer. It’s denser than clay!”

“You’re absolutely right, Master Cao,” Jiang Yuxun agreed. “Drawing water is just the first step. For large-scale implementation, further improvements are essential.”

Cao Shenming nodded repeatedly, pulling out a notebook from his sleeve to jot down observations while mumbling calculations under his breath, seemingly immersed in his own world.

Jiang Yuxun nodded as well. “Master Cao makes a valid point.”

Although they hadn’t known each other long or interacted much, that morning was enough for Jiang Yuxun to notice Cao Shenming’s meticulous nature, making him a perfect fit for his role overseeing agriculture.

He was recommended by Zhuang Yue and ultimately appointed by Changchuan himself.

At this thought, Jiang Yuxun’s mind wandered briefly.

…Since when had the imperial court of the Great Zhou seemed to have so many capable people?

—

Although Jiang Yuxun had long been aware that the former dynasty had left the Great Zhou with a complete mess, it was only recently that he truly grasped the extent of the damage.

One glaring example was the largest granary near Zhao City, located near the Yi River. Last year’s flood completely submerged the entire storage area.

Fortunately, the granary had been abandoned for over a decade, so the flooding didn’t cause significant losses.

With the summer harvest approaching, rebuilding a new granary became a pressing issue.

A few officials responsible for the matter had already selected several locations.

Now, Jiang Yuxun’s task was to inspect these sites and record their advantages and disadvantages for the emperor.

The granary sites were all near Zhao City, and Jiang Yuxun visited each one within a few days.

At Xianyou Palace, in the Flowing Clouds Hall—

The officials who had chosen the sites waited with Zhuang Yue for the emperor’s decision.

Outside the hall, water dripped and trickled as spring warmth seeped through the windows.

Jiang Yuxun compared his notes while reporting to Changchuan:

“Your Majesty, to prevent flooding and dampness, all proposed sites are on higher ground. Three are near the mountains. Though they appear dry, they’re too close to underground water and prone to unseen moisture issues.”

The emperor nodded lightly. “What about the other three?”

Jiang Yuxun hesitated briefly before responding, “I believe one is too far from the main road, making grain transportation inconvenient and unsuitable.”

“Another is too close to a nearby town, making it more vulnerable to theft or damage compared to the other options,” he continued, handing the report to Changchuan. “The last site is the most balanced in all aspects. Here are the details.”

Changchuan took the report.

The surrounding officials held their breath.

These seasoned officials knew the emperor’s hands-on approach.

Before coming to the Flowing Clouds Hall, they had meticulously prepared answers and were even ready to accompany the emperor on-site if needed.

However, Changchuan, while reading the report, only questioned Jiang Yuxun, seemingly forgetting the others entirely.

Jiang Yuxun answered fluently, as though accustomed to this dynamic.

…What’s going on?

Though puzzled, the officials breathed a sigh of relief.

Only Zhuang Yue smiled knowingly—clearly, the emperor truly valued Jiang Yuxun!

—

Noon arrived.

Eunuch Sang and other palace attendants waited outside the Flowing Clouds Hall.

After Jiang Yuxun finished his report, the emperor glanced at the sky and summoned them inside.

The granary decision would wait until the afternoon; the emperor planned to have everyone stay for lunch in the Flowing Clouds Hall.

The brown-robed attendants carried lacquered trays into the hall, carefully setting dishes before the officials seated opposite the emperor.

Jiang Yuxun, as the imperial secretary, sat directly across from the emperor.

Before the attendants even approached, Jiang Yuxun noticed the dishes on his colleagues’ tables—plain steamed vegetables paired with mildly sweet yellow millet rice, entirely devoid of any meat.

Dining with the emperor was a great honor, yet the pudgy official seated near Jiang Yuxun couldn’t hide his disappointment upon seeing the modest spread.

…This meal is far too bland!

Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help but share in the sentiment.

Oh well, at least it’s enough to stave off hunger.

While Jiang Yuxun was lost in thought, the attendants placed food before him.

“Please enjoy, Master Jiang,” the attendant said, bowing before leaving.

Jiang Yuxun casually picked up his chopsticks and glanced at his table.

But in the next moment, he froze.

Something wasn’t right!

He instinctively compared his own dishes to those on Zhuang Yue and the other officials’ tables.

Unlike their steamed vegetables and millet, his table featured a dish of fish soup and fragrant white rice—both rare in the area around Zhao City.

The freshly prepared fish soup still steamed, its aroma wafting into Jiang Yuxun’s nose.

…The last time he had these was during the southern tour.

For a brief moment, a strange thought crossed Jiang Yuxun’s mind—did Changchuan prepare this just for me?

How does he know I like these?

The enticing aroma quickly stirred Jiang Yuxun’s appetite.

Puzzlement lingered only a moment before he dismissed it entirely.

There’s food—why overthink it?

Jiang Yuxun was about to dig in but hesitated, concerned others might notice the discrepancy. Feeling self-conscious, he discreetly pulled his dishes closer and glanced around.

The Flowing Clouds Hall was silent.

The officials were engrossed in their meals, and the palace attendants stood attentively nearby.

Everyone seemed focused on their tasks.

After a moment, confident no one had noticed his unique meal, Jiang Yuxun cautiously turned to the emperor beside him and mouthed a silent, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Changchuan, who had been glancing at Jiang Yuxun’s seat, smiled and nodded subtly in response.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jiang Yuxun realized how immature his sneaky behavior had been—utterly unbefitting of a high-ranking official like himself.

…More importantly, why would expressing gratitude to the emperor require such secrecy?

If Zhuang Yue looked up now, he’d probably think I’m hiding something.

Straightening up, Jiang Yuxun composed himself, picking up his chopsticks with renewed poise, his earlier nervousness replaced by grace.

Yet, in that moment, he noticed Changchuan putting down his cup, raising his brows slightly, and—behind the backs of the dozens of officials in the Flowing Clouds Hall—silently mouthing back:

“No need to thank me.”

…Wait a second.

You’re the emperor—why are you sneaking around like this?