The fiercest soldier of the border army

Zhao Lang was taken aback and waved to signal them to stop.

The guards stopped and turned to look at him.

Li Qingan also turned around, his eyes flickering slightly.

Zhao Lang stared at the new document but did not immediately take it.

A strange feeling suddenly arose in his heart. How long had it been? Only half an hour had passed, and Xie Anzhi had already sent a second urgent report?

If the people were truly going to rebel, they should be mobilizing troops immediately, so why would they report it again?

He took the document, his fingertips touching the paper, and noticed that the seal on this letter was thicker and the imprint deeper than the previous one, as if it had been handled with extra care.

He slowly unpacked it.

He unfolded the letter, glanced at it, and his brows furrowed suddenly.

The handwriting was the same, but this time, there was no anxiety, only careful writing.

The paper read:

Your subject Xie Anzhi bows deeply:

I have twice submitted memorials impeaching Emperor Shun for allowing grain prices to rise unchecked and for neglecting the plight of displaced people. The second memorial was sent out by courier today.

However, after listening to Governor Tang's analysis of the overall situation today, I realized that I was narrow-minded and ignorant, and had wrongly blamed a pillar of the state. I am ashamed and have no place to hide. Therefore, I am sending another letter to make up for my mistakes and to report the truth about Wenchi.

More than 10,000 people have fled to Wenchi County. The price of grain has soared from 93 wen to 260 wen, and more than 30 people have starved to death so far.

When I first arrived, I saw that grain merchants in the market were hoarding grain and speculating on prices. People were pawning their clothes and selling their children, yet they still could not get a bushel of grain. However, the Tang governor seemed to have no intention of curbing this and instead condoned the price increase.

I was filled with righteous indignation, believing that he was a mere figurehead who sat idly by while the people suffered. Therefore, I argued with him in court and then angrily submitted a memorial to the throne.

Today, Prefect Tang has revealed his plans to his ministers: Wenchi has no surplus grain. If we force grain merchants to lower prices, they will only reduce prices by a few coins to make do. When the people run out of money and there is no grain in the deep winter, the whole region will be filled with starving corpses.

If the government granaries are opened to distribute relief, the stored grain will not last more than five days, which would be like drinking poison to quench thirst.

Only by allowing prices to rise can we attract grain merchants from Hedong, Hexi, Longyou, and Guanzhong to come for the huge profits, even if it means traveling long distances.

Grain is now on its way and will soon be gathered at Wenchi, providing enough grain to feed tens of thousands of refugees through the winter.

He even calculated the amount of grain with his ministers: one dou of rice could feed a strong soldier for ten days, an ordinary person for fifteen days, and refugees could survive for a month on thin porridge. Even if the desperate situation of starvation was reached, there was still a buffer period, and it would not happen overnight.

While the deaths of the previous thirty-odd people are indeed tragic, they are a far cry from the dire situation when no food was available to enter the country, where "less than one in ten survived."

When I first heard his words, I suspected that he intended to forcibly seize the merchants' grain and disrupt the law. However, I did not know that Governor Tang had already made a plan: he had ordered his soldiers to fill sandbags with grain, and the next day he would push a hundred carts to pile them up in front of the county government office, announcing that the military governor's office had transported 10,000 shi of disaster relief grain.

At the same time, the four gates of the county town were sealed off, allowing only entry but no exit.

Merchants trapped in the city, upon hearing that government grain was arriving in large quantities and that grain prices would inevitably collapse, would rush to sell their grain at rock-bottom prices in order to break even. Without any coercion from the government, they would distribute the grain to the people on their own.

Those who know what's good for them can at least break even, but those who dare to hoard and speculate will surely lose everything.

I then inquired about the matter of conscripting laborers, fearing it would increase the burden on displaced people.

Tang, the magistrate, said only that "we will know in a few days," and added that even if grain prices returned to normal, the destitute refugees would still not have money to buy grain, and there were other ways to settle them.

Although I did not have full information, judging from his calculated steps, he is by no means someone who only cares about the present.

He further mentioned that Cui Yuanlang lowered prices in Lingwu to win over the people. Relying on the Cui family's status, he reduced the price of grain to 75 coins, which seemed to be a gesture of love for the people, but it was still several times higher than the usual price of 15 coins per bushel.

Once the people's grain reserves are exhausted and their money is depleted, chaos will inevitably erupt. This is merely a temporary measure to gain fame, not a long-term solution for peace and stability.

Upon hearing this, I felt as if I had been enlightened.

People saw the soaring grain prices and the deaths and injuries among the people, and they cursed Governor Tang for being incompetent and harming the people. Little did they know that he was enduring the infamy for a while, and was using grain from all directions to save the lives of a county.

Once the grain merchants have gathered, a deceptive scheme can be devised to break the deadlock. This will not cost the court a single grain of rice or a single penny, but will also stabilize grain prices, punish unscrupulous merchants, and leave room for the impoverished people to be resettled.

Such foresight and courage in the face of criticism are beyond my reach.

Due to a moment of anger, I twice submitted memorials impeaching virtuous officials, which nearly thwarted Your Highness's intention to select capable officials and almost ruined the overall disaster relief efforts at Wenchi. My crime is unforgivable.

Your Majesty, I request that you punish me and also humbly request that you postpone your previous proposal and allow Prefect Tang to carry out his plans.

The lives of all the people of Wenchi depend on this.

Your subject, Anzhi, bows deeply and respectfully, filled with trepidation.

The signature is still Xie Anzhi.

Zhao Lang's hand froze in mid-air.

He stared at the phrase "The lives of all the people of Wenchi depend on this," and remained motionless for a long time.

The warehouse was eerily silent.

Li Qingan looked at his profile and saw his eyes change from anger to surprise, from surprise to suspicion, then from suspicion to joy, and finally fixated on that line of words, as if nailed to it.

"Your Highness?" Li Qing'an called softly.

Zhao Lang did not respond.

He lowered his head again and read the letter once more.

"Li Jiedushi..." he murmured, handing over the letter. "Take a look?"

Li Qingan took a deep breath and forced himself to finish reading the letter, feeling as if a thunderbolt had struck his heart.

He wanted to shout "Good!" But finally, he spoke in a low voice, "Your Highness, perhaps... we have misunderstood him."

Zhao Lang remained silent, simply laying the two letters side by side and comparing them.

The first letter said the people would rebel, and the second letter said the lives of all the people of Wenchi depended on this.

The same person wrote these books, only half an hour apart, yet the contents are completely opposite.

He recalled what Emperor Shun of Tang had said in the Tingzhou Palace: "The foundation of a prosperous nation lies in freeing the people from their shackles."

At that time, he felt that this person was bold, but not foolish.

In retrospect, this person was not only not foolish, but also extremely ruthless—ruthless in that he dared to bear the infamy, and ruthless in that he could endure.

He slowly raised his head and looked north.

That's the direction of Wenchi (hot spring).

There is a small town there, and a pacification commissioner who comes from a military background is walking a path that no one dares to walk, stepping over rumors and corpses.

And he himself had almost pushed him into the abyss with his own hands.

The guards were still standing at the door, their command arrows yet to be released.

After a long silence, Zhao Lang finally raised his hand and made a "stop" gesture.

He neither ordered the withdrawal of the arrest warrant nor announced a pardon.

He simply clutched the second letter tightly.

Yes, how could someone who is so young as to propose "children being cared for, adults being employed, and the elderly being supported" be incompetent?

You've become attached to appearances.

When Wenchi is pacified, the court officials will know how wise and virtuous this crown prince is, and how discerning he is in recognizing talent.

Even the emperor and powerful families would be rendered speechless by Tang Shun's methods.

Everything makes sense now.

In the distance, a messenger leads his horse, awaiting the next order.

But the order was delayed.

Zhao Lang sighed, looking up at the sky, "Tang Shun, this is taking a huge risk for the greater good!"

"He risked his life!"

"Win, and the people live in peace; lose, and you will be killed and disgraced!"

"One wrong step, and you will face death ten thousand times over."

Beside him, Li Qingan smiled again.

"Your Highness, it seems that Wenchi will be able to stabilize soon."

Li Qing'an cupped his hands in greeting, "Congratulations, Your Highness, on recognizing and promoting such a talented individual!"

Zhao Lang suppressed the turmoil in his heart, "Li Jiedu, don't joke around."

"I almost became a fool who couldn't judge people."

"However, the folk songs that the people composed were far too harsh in their insults."

Zhao Lang opened the first letter, read its contents, and smiled.

"Well done! Those who once guarded the borders and drove out the barbarians are now wreaking havoc on the road to Wenchi!"

"Back then, we drove out the barbarians, but now..."

"The ones who are truly in chaos are those unscrupulous merchants who want to profit from the national crisis at Wenchi..."