Wind fierce, rain unrelenting — the entire night through.
Hua Zhi had not managed to sleep soundly. She was standing before the window early, gazing out at what lay beyond in silent thought. Judging by the look of things, the water route would likely become impassable — but traveling by land required waiting for the rain to stop as well. In rain this heavy, stepping outside would soak one’s shoes through in an instant.
“Good morning, miss.” Bao Xia came in carrying washing water and, reading her mistress’s expression, understood at once what was weighing on her mind. She said gently: “The injuries on your body have not yet healed anyway — staying here a few days to rest and tend to them would be no bad thing.”
Hua Zhi gave a slight shake of her head, unable to put the worries in her heart into words.
After breakfast and a change of dressing, Shao Yao disappeared without a trace — no one knew where she had gone. Little Six paced circles in the doorway, yet Hua Zhi gave no sign of noticing. There was a world of difference between someone who sought out learning on their own initiative and someone who had to be pushed toward it. She hoped Little Six would be the former.
After a good while, Little Six finally knocked on the door.
Hua Zhi closed her book and set it aside, then looked toward the doorway. “Come in.”
The Sixth Prince came in with his head lowered in embarrassment, sliding over to sit beside Elder Sister Hua, softening his voice as he fished for an opening. “With rain this heavy, Elder Sister Hua, are we going to switch to the land route?”
Hua Zhi did not call him out on his real purpose. “That is the plan — but it also requires waiting for the rain to stop or lighten.”
“Heavy rain like this probably will not last too long.”
“Hard to say.” Hua Zhi looked out the window. The rain had not eased in the slightest and seemed to be building rather than diminishing. “The south and the north are different. The north has little rain, and when it stops, it stops cleanly. The south is the opposite — on more than half the days of the year, sometimes well more than half, there is rain. They have a saying in the south: a month sees two spells of rain, and each spell lasts half a month.”
The Sixth Prince’s mouth fell open. “That, that serious?”
Hua Zhi smiled. “The north suffers drought, the south suffers floods — it has always been this way.”
“Is there no way to address it?”
Channel water from the south to the north? Hua Zhi shook her head. “That problem is beyond me to solve. You might think carefully about it.”
“If even Elder Sister Hua has no solution, then I—”
“Little Six — I am not as capable as you imagine.” Hua Zhi cut him off. “I have a knack for commerce, and if you say I am capable in that regard, I will accept the compliment. As for other matters — when things are pressing down on you and there is absolutely nowhere left to retreat, you learn even what you did not know before.”
She picked up her book and flipped through a few pages, then looked over at the young boy. “If someday you too are pushed to such a point, you will also find that kind of strength in yourself. The prerequisite is that you must understand as many things as possible beforehand. A person’s life is only so long — one cannot know and excel at everything. Yet it is not so terribly hard to have at least a passing familiarity with many things. That is far better than letting time pass in empty idleness.”
“Yes — Chengqian has learned something today.” It was Chengqian — not Little Six, and not the generic address of Sixth Prince. This was the attitude that the Sixth Prince, Gu Chengqian, was willing to present before Hua Zhi.
Hua Zhi gave no outward sign of noticing the difference, and lowered her head to read her military strategy book.
The Sixth Prince also fell silent and picked up a nearby book to read.
Right through to evening, the rain showed not the faintest sign of stopping. After nightfall the rain eased a little, and then in the half-waking, half-dreaming hours it seemed as though even the sound on the rooftop grew softer. In their hazy half-consciousness, everyone felt a measure of relief settle over them — perhaps morning would bring clear skies.
But that relief did not last long. At the first light of dawn, torrential rain came crashing down again. The sound of it striking the rooftop made it seem as though what fell from the sky was not rain at all, but shards of ice.
The moment Hua Zhi heard it, she was awake. She draped her outer robe over her shoulders and stood before the window with brow furrowed. If rain this heavy fell for a prolonged stretch — would the Wei River be able to bear it?
After daybreak, Hua Zhi sent Yu Tao to the dock to assess the situation. Even with a rain cape, it made little difference — he returned thoroughly soaked through, and only after changing his clothes did he come to report.
“The water has risen at a rather alarming rate — roughly five chi above where it was when we disembarked.”
In bare numbers it did not sound like much, yet this was only the beginning. This section lay in the middle reaches of the Wei River: the water from upstream would flow here, and the tributaries would pour in as well. Combined with the unceasing torrential rain — it was likely that—
“Head lady, this subordinate feels the situation may be somewhat worrying.”
Hua Zhi looked toward Yu Tao with a touch of surprise. This man was capable and useful, and he rarely offered unsolicited commentary. Today was an exception. “Say more.”
Yu Tao gathered his thoughts for a moment. “This subordinate is from Yangzhou. As a child, this subordinate lived through one great flood. At the beginning, it was exactly like this — intermittent, unceasing rain, with the lightest spells still audible as a steady sound on the rooftop. At first the water rose gradually; a few days later it surged rapidly, rising half a chi in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. That flood was what brought ruin to this subordinate’s family, which is why this subordinate remembers it so clearly. This subordinate speaks out of turn — please punish accordingly, head lady.”
This was exactly what Hua Zhi had been afraid of. But what could she do? Setting aside the fact that she held no authority and had no standing, even if she had, she would not dare overstep to play the hero — just as she had said to Little Six the day before, her real strength lay in commerce. Everything else was half a jar of water sloshing around, and only when circumstances had driven her to the wall with no way back had she been forced to shoulder what she had shouldered for the Hua Family’s sake. But this matter — it had nothing to do with her, and it was a burden she could not take on.
“Cao Cao — why don’t you go to the Xiangyang magistrate’s office and mention this situation, so that they can make some preparations?”
“Understood — I will go right away.”
“Wait.” Watching Shao Yao turn to leave, Hua Zhi hesitated briefly, then called her back. “See whether you can obtain some maps while you are there — maps of Xiangyang, of this stretch of the Wei River, and any local gazetteers of the area.”
Shao Yao turned back with a grin. “Even if I have to steal them, I will get them for you.”
Hua Zhi felt an anxious restlessness building inside her. Being trapped here, unable to move, was already galling enough — and now to face something like this on top of it. She was beginning to wonder whether she simply attracted disaster wherever she went.
“Elder Sister Hua, will Xiangyang suffer a flood?”
“Hard to say whether it will be a great disaster or a small one.” Hua Zhi gave a wry smile. “Though it may also not be so severe — if the rain stops, there would be nothing to worry about.”
Everyone understood, of course, that this rain was not going to stop anytime soon.
“Yu Tao — is there a way to get a letter to Yanxi for me? My people are not enough, and none of you can leave.”
“There is — the Seven Lodges Division has an outpost here in Xiangyang.”
Hua Zhi immediately sat down and began to write. She did not put down her brush until she had filled four full pages. She sealed the letter, wrapped it in oilpaper, and handed it to Yu Tao. “As fast as possible.”
“Yes.”
When Shao Yao returned, she was more or less soaked through — but everything she carried in her arms was without a drop of rain on it. “It is all here, Hua Zhi. See whether it is what you needed.”
Hua Zhi looked at the pile and felt her heart sink. She had spent many years living in the south and knew firsthand the misery of the damp season — but she had never been a government official or a military person. Her knowledge of floods came largely from news reports, her understanding was fragmentary at best, and what she did know might not even apply to these circumstances.
But she was stuck here. If nothing else, for the sake of surviving and making it home safely, she needed to understand more about the conditions along the Wei River around Xiangyang. As for what to do about it — she could not think that far ahead yet. She did not feel herself capable of it. All she could hope was that she could hold on safely until the Seven Lodges Division arrived.