Chapter 0029: Neither a Good Second Prince Nor a Saintly Xie Chengze
Xie Chengze would not play god, nor would he act the saint.
He intended to intervene in the lives of Yi Province’s common people, emulating heaven and earth, imitating nature, and reshaping it to serve the people.
He would transform these millions of acres of plains into fertile farmland, turn Yi Province into the Land of Abundance in this world, enable the people of the Jian’an Dynasty to forge a constructive civilization, and ensure that wherever there were Jian’an subjects, there would be the finest territory.
“Shen Yuan,” he whispered into Shen Yuan’s ear, a rare hint of seriousness in his tone, “dare to bet that I can make the Min River’s floods obey my command?”
Shen Yuan thought he was joking and scoffed, “Has the Second Prince not woken up yet? Does Your Highness need me to throw you into the river to clear your head?”
“Does Lord Shen not dare?” Xie Chengze raised an eyebrow.
“Of course I dare. What’s the wager?” Shen Yuan asked, one hand supporting Xie Chengze’s buttocks to prevent him from falling, the other unconsciously tapping lightly at his waist—a subtle habit he only displayed when scheming. “If the Second Prince fails to make the Min River floods obey you, then you must grant me three favors.”
“Deal,” Xie Chengze agreed readily. “If the Min River floods heed my command, then you…” He narrowed his eyes and grinned mischievously, “You’ll call me ‘Father’!”
Shen Yuan: ?
This scoundrel! Always so improper!
Shen Yuan had no expectation that Xie Chengze could control the Min River. He only hoped that while he thoroughly investigated the corruption, the other would obediently refrain from causing trouble!
On the way down the mountain, Shen Yuan still carried him on his back.
Shen Yuan was naturally unwilling, but he couldn’t withstand Xie Chengze’s incessant whining and subtle hints about the account ledger, implying ingratitude. Unwilling to listen to his complaints, Shen Yuan decided to take him down the mountain as quickly as possible, returning to the county office where they each went to their own rooms.
In the following days, Shen Yuan busied himself with disaster relief.
Drawing on his past life’s experience in relief efforts, Shen Yuan ordered Liang Wan Da to compile a manual on resolving famine-related issues. It was dispatched posthaste to every county, instructing local magistrates to carry out relief operations according to the guide.
However, this didn’t solve all problems. Some counties, harboring a sense of luck, ignored directives, seizing the opportunity to extort the people and embezzle relief grain, worsening the plight of disaster victims within their jurisdictions.
Starving refugees began spontaneously organizing to flee to other counties.
Other counties, naturally unwilling to accept these refugees, struggled to feed their own people and had no energy to deal with others’ messes.
As the refugee situation grew volatile, someone directly sent a petition of complaint to Shen Yuan.
Shen Yuan needed to leave the city to resolve these crises. Although he had been a powerful minister in his previous life, now his rank was reset, and he was assigned to this “beginner’s village”—merely a minor Shumishi with no capable aides at his disposal. Until he could recruit and train new advisors, he had to handle this matter personally.
And he absolutely had to bring Xie Chengze along.
“Your Highness must accompany me,” Shen Yuan stated in a tone that brooked no argument. “If word gets out that the Second Prince is in Jiangdu Xian, refugees will swarm here en masse. By then, the people of Jiangdu, scholars from various regions, and Your Highness would all be in danger.”
Where there was a prince, there would be food. But Jiangdu Xian clearly couldn’t sustain too many people. If those refugees were pushed to the brink of starvation, they wouldn’t care whether you were a prince or an official. After all, the law couldn’t punish the masses—how could they possibly execute every single one of them?
In his previous life, because he and the Crown Prince had pressured Liang Wan Da and his allies too harshly, the other side had resorted to desperate measures, luring over twenty thousand refugees from nearby areas to Jiangdu Xian!
With over twenty thousand mouths crying out for food, he and the Crown Prince had been overwhelmed, struggling tirelessly before finally resolving the crisis.
In this life, he absolutely could not let this happen again. That was why he had to bring Xie Chengze along, relying on the principle that “wherever Xie Chengze goes, the refugees will follow” to draw the local refugees back to the city and restart the disaster relief efforts in these emptied counties.
But Xie Chengze refused.
“I’m not going. Look throughout history—which prince would run around disaster areas with a mere official?”
“The Crown Prince would!” Shen Yuan couldn’t help retorting.
The implication was clear: If you want to follow in the Crown Prince’s footsteps, then obediently come with me!
“Then ask the Crown Prince to go with you.” Xie Chengze rolled his eyes, completely unfazed. He clung tightly to the bedpost, raising his voice as he shouted, “This prince isn’t going, no matter what!”
“Second Prince!” Shen Yuan’s voice turned cold as he stepped forward and gripped Xie Chengze’s wrist tightly. “Stop being willful. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to remain in Jiangdu Xian? If anything goes wrong, Liang Wan Da will surely push you to the front to face the refugees. How will you handle that situation then?”
“It’s even more dangerous to stay by your side!” Xie Chengze glared at him with wide, unblinking eyes, his accusatory tone sharp and forceful. “Aren’t you just trying to use me as a living shield? If I help you, those treacherous officials will assume I’m on your side. Have you ever considered what will happen to me when we return to the capital?!”
“Or is it that you simply don’t care? All you care about is whether your precious Crown Prince can secure his position as the future emperor!”
Xie Chengze’s eyes reddened, the stubbornness in his gaze barely concealing the deep-seated grievance hidden in the farthest corners of his heart, too afraid to surface.
Shen Yuan fell silent for a moment.
He had to admit that he had indeed entertained such thoughts. He had even vaguely wondered whether forcing Xie Chengze to stand against the faction of treacherous officials might steer him toward a better path.
But looking at Xie Chengze, who was shrinking back like a turtle retreating into its shell, Shen Yuan felt nothing but disappointment.
In the Second Prince’s heart, the lives of the common people were far less important than his own power and status.
He had been so deceived by the recent illusions that he had almost forgotten what kind of person Xie Chengze had been in his previous life. How could a person’s nature change so easily?
He couldn’t force Xie Chengze’s decision. All he could do was release his wrist harshly and say coldly, “This subject takes his leave.”
The man turned and strode away, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing heavily, as if venting some helpless frustration.
Xie Chengze lifted his left wrist, where Shen Yuan had gripped him. Deep red marks remained, the burning sensation trembling faintly along the imprints of fingers. The pain made him lower his gaze, his lips curling into an indignant pout.
“Hot-tempered, no wife,” he muttered under his breath.
He truly couldn’t follow Shen Yuan to the other counties.
Once he went, his stance in supporting the Crown Prince would become clear—a scenario those treacherous officials would never wish to see. After all, he enjoyed too much of Emperor Jian’s favor. To use an exaggerated analogy, if Xie Chengze were to ask to have a minister’s household confiscated every day, Emperor Jian, delighted by the idea, would surely agree.
Would those sycophants want to see such a scene?
Of course not.
They might even go to any lengths to have him killed.
By then, his situation would become even more perilous than the Crown Prince’s. In Emperor Jian’s eyes, he was certainly important, but that importance was limited to not obstructing the Crown Prince’s path to the throne. He was merely a “mascot” to be indulged. If he were to die “accidentally,” Emperor Jian would, at most, grieve for a while before using his death as an opportunity to purge the court.
Hadn’t Emperor Jian used him as a living target before? If Emperor Jian could truly protect the original host, why did the original host keep two top-tier guards by his side at all times? Why was he so obsessed with cultivating death warriors?
No one could truly protect him. Once Emperor Jian passed away, his situation would become even more precarious.
Therefore, Xie Chengze had to plan for himself at all times, keeping his political stance ambiguous. When Emperor Jian eventually died, he would immediately request a fief far from Jingcheng and live a truly free life.
Taking a deep breath, Xie Chengze rose, changed his clothes, and strode out of the room.
Outside, dark clouds loomed heavily, yet a single golden ray pierced through the thunderous gloom, gently falling upon him—warm yet scorching.