Chapter 1669: Looking for Trouble?
Chapter 1669: Chapter 1669: Looking for Trouble?
No matter how noisy and chaotic things were outside, Song Ci couldn’t be bothered anymore. The heat was so stifling it made one irritable, so she simply had someone move a bamboo cooling bed to the window, lay down, and took a cool nap at noon.
In the palace, the morning court session had long since ended. As usual, Emperor Chu summoned several trusted ministers to the Yangxin Hall to discuss state affairs. With each day that passed without rain, the disaster could not be alleviated, and for the National Treasury, this was an extremely fatal blow.
The most terrifying part was that autumn had already arrived. Without rain there could be no autumn sowing, so this year’s grain would naturally be in short supply. Disaster relief already required heavy expenditures from the National Treasury and the stored grain; with only outflow and no inflow, if a campaign were to break out after winter set in, Great Qing would likely fall into an extremely passive position.
Thus he had no choice but to take these things into consideration. He had to make some wealthy gentry more generous and have them contribute significantly to the state. As for rewards, they could be given honorary, largely titular posts, or some meritorious titles and reputations, or else business permits they would not easily obtain otherwise, to trade for their support.
And of course, one or two beauties could be selected from among them and brought into the palace.
There was no help for it—if you wanted to reach into other people’s pockets for grain, you had to offer them some benefits.
Once they finished deliberating state affairs, Emperor Chu kept Song Zhiyuan in the palace to partake of the imperial meal. The weather was hot, and they were in the midst of a disaster besides, so the imperial kitchen had also reduced portions, focusing mainly on light fare. Song Zhiyuan found no taste in the food at all.
When the dishes were cleared away, Emperor Chu looked at him and said, "Still sulking over your aunt’s affair?"
Song Zhiyuan said, "It’s nothing but a few petty clowns stirring up trouble. All that talk of妖孽 is simply absurd. What weighs on this humble servant is that this year’s disaster—I do not know when it will finally end."
At the mention of the great drought, Emperor Chu pressed his lips into a thin line, and even the tea in his hand lost its fragrance. He said, "I too have been thinking of going to the Heavenly Altar to pray for blessings and rain. I have already ordered the Observatory to select an auspicious day."
Song Zhiyuan frowned. "Your Majesty’s person is worth a thousand in gold. As for this matter of praying for rain, better to let the younger men go."
If he were to suffer a severe heatstroke, it would be disastrous, for he was no longer young.
"Once we enter the eighth month, we enter autumn. It will not be as hot as high summer; the so?called autumn tiger is nothing to fear. But you also know, this unbroken spell without rain is a dire matter."
Song Zhiyuan fell silent. With no rain, waters everywhere continued to dry up, and even the canals had dropped in level—how could that be anything but ill?
In truth, this was not even the hardest part; what he feared most was that, just as Song Ci had said, there might be other disasters to follow. At such a juncture, however, it was better not to mention these things, lest he be accused of alarming the court with ominous talk and thereby further cement Song Ci’s vile reputation as a妖孽.
Emperor Chu cast a sidelong glance at Song Zhiyuan and said, "As for the rumors outside targeting your aunt—have you found out who started them?"
A flash of fierceness passed through Song Zhiyuan’s eyes. "There are some leads. In the end, it is our own household’s misfortune."
"Oh?" Emperor Chu raised his brows. What was that supposed to mean?
Song Zhiyuan let out a bitter smile.
He naturally could not tell Emperor Chu about that rather absurd dream. If he spoke of it, would it not make the label of妖孽 even harder to refute?
Seeing that Emperor Chu looked as though he meant to get to the very bottom of it, Song Zhiyuan had no choice but to answer vaguely, "The third has always brooded over the matter of his birth mother. He believes it was Madam who harmed her, and as for his leg, he thinks I crippled him. People, after all, pile new grievances atop old ones; as they accumulate over the years, then with someone adding fuel from the side, the blaze is bound to flare up. In the seventh month he went off to cultivate the Way with some Heavenly Master Zhong—most likely he’s learned some crooked, evil path."
He spoke of it lightly, but Emperor Chu heard within it a note of grim menace.
If Song Zhiqing truly had no sense of life and death and had dared to stir up such a mess, then he was like the God of Longevity hanging himself—simply tired of living too long.