Chapter Thirty-Five: Lu Su—What a Bold Lord

The next morning, dawn broke.

All divisions within the army were startled by the rebellion of Lei Bo and Chen Lan; their execution at noon sent waves of uncertainty through the ranks, with many beginning to reassess their positions, living in constant anxiety and unrest. Were it not for the established prestige of Ji Ling and Qiao Rui, who stabilized the situation, the city of Shouchun would have already erupted in mutiny. Even so, the peace in Shouchun was but a temporary reprieve.

Meanwhile, inside the imperial palace.

A woman gazed at Zhao Fan and the white silk carried by the guards beside him. Collapsing to the ground in terror, she cried out, "No, no, I must see His Majesty! His Majesty would never grant me death!"

"The sovereign's mercy is to allow you a dignified death. Cease your struggle," Zhao Fan replied coldly, turning and walking several steps before instructing his attendants, "If she does not take her own life, you two are to strangle her."

The woman heard his words clearly. Her face turned ashen—why, why had it come to this? She was unwilling, deeply unwilling.

———

At midday,

In the council chamber of Yuan’s residence.

Chu Feng sat in the principal seat, reviewing the various documents submitted by officials under Yuan Shu’s rule, feeling overwhelmed. How had Jiujiang descended to such ruin! Moreover, the drought was worsening everywhere; it was only a matter of time before the people of Jianghuai resorted to cannibalism. Even without another defeat, reversing the tide was nearly impossible.

It was this drought that had broken Yuan Shu, leaving him unable to recover.

The crucial point was that his potato seeds could not yet be planted—he had forgotten that the new potatoes would take two or three months before sprouting. Though there was some grain in storage, it did nothing to quench thirst!

If the people starved to death, how could soldiers remain loyal?

At present, the greatest threat was not Cao Cao, nor Sun Ce, but this calamity; if it could not be withstood, what hope was there for securing a territory?

Just then, Lu Su hurried in.

"Zijing, you arrive at just the right moment. The drought is worsening, the people suffer, and it will last until October. The fields will yield nothing, and without grain, the army will surely mutiny. What can be done?" Chu Feng asked anxiously.

"This..." Lu Su hesitated, troubled. "My lord, throughout the land, only the noble families have grain stored. Perhaps we could ask them to lend it, promising repayment next year?"

---

"Zijing, not all nobles are as generous as you; would they really lend their grain?" Chu Feng shook his head, frustrated.

Previously, the fate of the people in Jiujiang and Peiguo was of no concern to him, but now that he held power, he could not let matters deteriorate. If the people perished this year, who would till the land next year?

If there were none to farm, the vicious cycle would only worsen.

Lu Su frowned—Chu Feng, as Yuan’s heir in Shouchun, would find it improper to borrow grain for the people, but there was no other solution.

"My lord, there are ten thousand bushels of surplus grain in my family’s store. I will send servants to deliver it to Shouchun to alleviate the immediate crisis."

"Good, bring it for now. But the gap in Jiujiang and Peiguo is counted in a million bushels. Shouchun has less than two hundred thousand bushels remaining—the deficit is enormous!" Chu Feng set down the documents, worried.

He calculated: the two regions had a population of three hundred thousand. Each person consumed one and a half bushels per month; to last until the autumn harvest next year would require over five million bushels.

Even with thin gruel, at least two million bushels would be needed; only a united effort from the entire realm could fill such a gap!

"This..." Lu Su pondered. Though his strength lay in strategy, he was at a loss regarding the logistics of securing grain, unsure where to begin.

The two sat in silence for a while.

Suddenly, Chu Feng’s eyes glinted coldly. "No, we must still look to the noble families for grain. They alone have reserves; only through them can Jiujiang survive this crisis."

"Zijing, summon all officials and gentry in the city for a council, and place axe-wielding guards outside. I want to see whether, with axes at their heads, they will give or not."

Lu Su was greatly alarmed, glancing anxiously around. "My lord, you mustn’t! As Yuan’s son, threatening the gentry will surely cost you their loyalty."

He was exceedingly nervous—the late Han was a world ruled by noble families; to offend them was to court disaster.

"But only by forcing their hand can we break the deadlock. Otherwise, Jiujiang will collapse, the people will eat one another, and the soldiers will desert me. What use are the noble families then? What use is an empty title?" Chu Feng pressed.

"But, my lord, have you forgotten how Cao Cao nearly lost his province for offending the gentry? Or how Gongsun Zan was universally condemned for executing Liu Yu, causing isolation from all sides?"

"Even Liu Biao, upon entering Jingzhou, had to bow to the nobles and be constrained by them. These are all past lessons—why risk yourself?"

Lu Su earnestly advised.

"If we truly offend the gentry, I dare say, the day you lead troops to battle, Shouchun will rebel, and you’ll become a tree without roots."

Chu Feng frowned slightly at his words.

---

Everything Lu Su said was true, but what way was there to break the impasse? Was he to sit idly by as the people perished and the soldiers deserted?

Shutting his eyes, Chu Feng fell into deep thought.

After a long while, his eyes opened with a cold gleam, and he laughed. "Heh, I cannot kill, but someone else can. Why not use another’s blade to do the job?"

"Use another’s blade?" Lu Su’s eyes trembled, troubled.

"Zijing, I’ve heard the Yellow Turbans in Runan have recently revived and show signs of returning. Have you heard this?" Chu Feng’s lips curled in a cold smile.

"My lord, you intend... to use bandits for this? If the world learns of it, I fear..." Lu Su worried.

"Those who achieve great things do not fuss over details. If one fears every wolf and tiger, how can one accomplish anything?" Chu Feng retorted. "I’ve heard that Zheng Bao and other bandits have been pillaging near Chaohu lately."

"In a few days, I’ll have Ji Ling lead troops to defeat them, then let Zhao Fan infiltrate the bandit camp to lure them into pillaging Huai and Ru, secretly eliminating the gentry and seizing their grain for me!"

Lu Su thought for a moment, then responded,

"My lord, General Ji Ling has already executed Lei Bo and Chen Lan, and the unrest has left the city in constant anxiety. I believe we should request an imperial decree to appoint generals and stabilize the army’s morale."

"Of course. I’ll trouble you to draft the memorial for the court," Chu Feng nodded. "By the way, did you find out last night about Yan Xiang and Zhou Yu’s whereabouts?"

"Yan Xiang is outside the city; you may meet him at any time. As for Zhou Yu, my inquiries found he left for Ju Chao some days ago—he’s not in Jiujiang."

Lu Su replied,

"Zhou Yu has already gone to Ju Chao?" Chu Feng frowned—the historical records were not detailed enough; he had already left. Fortunately, he had intercepted Lu Su!

"Never mind. When Zhang Xun returns, I’ll reclaim Lujiang and send someone to find him. For now, since Yan Xiang is in Shouchun, let us meet him without delay!"

Chu Feng sighed, rising.

"My lord’s wisdom shines!" Lu Su was well pleased with Chu Feng’s thirst for talent and his dedication to the people, coupled with courage and resourcefulness—a true enlightened ruler.

His only flaw was his lack of friendliness toward the noble families.