Shi Le’s plan was quite good, but unfortunately the situation changed too quickly.

The disaster situation in Youzhou and Jizhou was too severe. Ninety consecutive days without rain, and after the Qingming festival passed, the sunlight in both regions became increasingly intense. After Xiaoman, the temperature shot up even more, the sun scorching fiercely, as if they had entered Minor Heat.

At this time, forget the plants that had gone without rain—even people could not endure it. Increasingly violent conflicts over water disputes broke out everywhere.

At this time, Wang Jun had absolutely no interest in going to Yuncheng to participate in the heaven worship ceremony. What was even more deadly was that young locusts began appearing throughout Youzhou. When farmers walked into their cracked, parched fields wanting to see if the sprouted seedlings still had any hope of being saved, the moment they walked into the fields they startled up a sky full of locusts…

They were still young, but their fluttering wings hitting people’s faces hurt in waves.

The farmer standing in the field instantly despaired. If it were only drought, they could still harbor a thread of hope, thinking that perhaps the heavens would send rain tonight, or perhaps they could find a water source to irrigate a little.

But with this sky full of locusts, could people compete with them?

Because of the drought, less than two-thirds of the sown wheat had sprouted and grown. Over these two months, even more wheat seedlings had died from drought. What remained was short and small—two months had passed and they had not even produced grain heads yet.

The farmer standing in the field licked his cracked, peeling lips and looked up at that blazing sun in the sky. Light spots flashed in his eyes, his brain spinning in dizziness. Without any awareness, he fell backward.

With a thud, he fell into the field, his head smashing onto the cracked earth with a sharp pain. Only then did he think: dying like this would also be a release, wouldn’t it?

The thought flashed through his mind, but the memories in his brain moved faster than this thought. Almost the moment the thought arose, the faces of his wife and child at home surfaced in his mind.

The farmer opened his mouth, moving feebly twice like a fish stranded on shore, then propped up his arms to get up. At this moment he still could not see clearly before him—everything seemed foggy.

He forcefully propped up his body, ignoring the locusts landing on his face and head, and stumbled forward…

They could not survive here. Youzhou could not support life. He had to leave. He had to take his wife and child and leave. He could not die. If he died, his wife and child certainly could not survive either. He had to go back. He had to go back…

Many farmers felt the same despair as him. They all chose to leave.

This was the only way they could find to survive.

The situation in Jizhou was slightly better than Youzhou, but locusts had also begun appearing in fields and along roadsides. Plus with bandits running rampant within the territory, after Liu Kun occupied the territory, he handed it over to his cousin Liu Xi to manage. Neither Liu Yuan nor Shi Le could possibly watch him gain a firm foothold in Jizhou, so they continuously sent troops to harass him.

Plus with Zu Ti in the south occasionally fighting with Shi Le over territory, Jizhou’s political environment was difficult to stabilize, causing even more common people to flee.

Under these circumstances, Liu Kun had no choice but to appeal to the court for aid, hoping the court could allocate some money and grain to help Jizhou’s common people resist the disaster.

When Wang Jun heard that Liu Kun was asking the court for money and grain, he was not to be outdone and also submitted a memorial requesting money and grain.

When the Emperor received memorials from both regions and saw the disaster was so severe, his heart went cold.

The court ministers also felt uneasy and alarmed. Yuncheng’s position was not very far from Jizhou. Once the north lost control due to disaster, Yuncheng and Yanzhou would certainly be greatly affected.

Could it be that it was not the Xiongnu who would destroy Dajin, but rather heaven itself willed Dajin’s destruction?

Even Zhao Zhongyu was speechless, thinking silently: could it really be that because the founding was illegitimate, heaven could not bear to see Dajin prosper, so disasters came one after another?

Although the court was also struggling, the Emperor still decided to gather some money and grain to send to Jizhou and Youzhou.

As Minister of State Affairs, Zhao Zhongyu was delegated to arrange this.

Zhao Zhongyu accepted the task. While arranging for grain, he also wrote a letter to Zhao Hanzhang, telling her the news Yuncheng had received, and said to her: “There is still some time before the summer solstice, and the heaven worship ceremony may undergo changes. Now the great trends of the world are changing and worsening day by day. Your safety is paramount—find a way to decline the heaven worship matter.”

When Zhao Hanzhang received the letter, she did not immediately reply. She suppressed the letter with a somber expression and asked: “Has Xie Shi sent any response?”

Fan Ying immediately said: “Master Xie says he has not discovered any signs of troop movements in Pingyang.”

Zhao Hanzhang said: “Tell him to continue watching closely. The moment Pingyang shows any unusual activity, report immediately.”

“Yes.”

Zhao Hanzhang thought for a moment but still felt uneasy. She said: “Have Master Ji pay attention to news from the Han kingdom and Shi Le. What about Wuren? Is he still in Bingzhou? Have him continue staying in Bingzhou—no need to hurry back. Have him investigate news about the Han kingdom.”

Fan Ying asked: “Investigate news about troop movements?”

Zhao Hanzhang shook her head. “Investigate everything—this year’s harvest in Bingzhou, farming, merchants and refugees entering and leaving Bingzhou. Even just general impressions will do. Have him report everything, and cross-check with the intelligence Master Ji receives.”

Fan Ying made note of this and said with some worry: “Are the Xiongnu going to send troops to attack us again?”

Zhao Hanzhang shook her head. “I don’t know. I just feel uneasy, so I’m being more vigilant.”

After giving these instructions, Zhao Hanzhang stood up. “The official documents are all processed. Sort them out and send them down.”

Seeing her lift her feet to leave, Fan Ying quickly followed. “Your Excellency, we received another calling card today. He says his name is Wang Mozi. Do you want to meet him?”

Zhao Hanzhang said: “No need to meet. These past days I’ve already met eight Wang Mozi. Have Ting He go meet him—she’s also seen Young Master Wang.”

Fan Ying hurried after her to ask: “Then the envoy from Jingzhou…”

“Tell him if there’s business, go find Uncle Ming,” Zhao Hanzhang said. When the envoy from Jingzhou first arrived, Zhao Hanzhang personally met him, thinking Wang Cheng had some important matter he wanted to secretly discuss with her. In the end, he had sent an envoy thousands of miles just to bring Wang Huifeng and Wang Siniang to Jingzhou.

Could Zhao Hanzhang agree to this?

Of course not.

Whether Wang Huifeng or Wang Siniang, both were currently among her capable generals. And Wang Huifeng’s identity was special—she could suppress the Central Plains aristocratic families. Why would she let her leave?

However, Zhao Hanzhang still wrote a letter to Wang Huifeng, who was far away in Luoyang, asking her opinion. That letter was written with deep sincerity and successfully kept Wang Huifeng.

As for Wang Siniang, they had a good relationship. When the Jingzhou envoy first broached the subject, she refused, giving the reason that her father was buried in Luoyang and she was unwilling to leave Luoyang.

The envoy thought: …But this is Yuzhou, not Luoyang. If you’re unwilling to leave Luoyang, why did you come here?

However, he did not voice this, instead stating his second purpose for coming: “The young master is traveling and studying abroad. Since the fall of Luoyang, the young master’s whereabouts have been unknown. Logically, such a major event as Luoyang’s fall occurred over a year ago—the young master should have heard the news and returned long ago, yet there has been no word to this day.”

He said: “The governor is very worried, so he wishes to request Governor Zhao’s help in the search.”

Wang Xuan’s safety was also of great concern to Wang Huifeng and Wang Siniang, and they also wanted to find him. Zhao Hanzhang also wanted to find this elder brother, so she immediately agreed.

She had government offices everywhere post public notices to search for him. In just ten short days, nine people claiming to be Wang Mozi came to the offices. Including today’s, that made nine—an average of 0.9 Wang Xuan appearing per day.

This infuriated Wang Siniang so much that she accepted an assignment and went out on official business, too lazy to meet imposters here every day.

Zhao Hanzhang really wanted to pry open those people’s heads to see what was inside. Wang Xuan had only been missing for two years, not twenty. There were countless people who knew him—did they really think they would not recognize imposters?

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