Chapter Seventy-Two: Calamities of Heaven and Man

In the seventeenth year of Southern Ming, a sudden drought struck, leaving the people south of the Huai River in utter misery. Famine and disaster swept the land, and the common folk were reduced to destitution. Yet, at this very moment, the emperor’s sixtieth birthday approached, and grand celebrations erupted in and around the capital. Local officials raised taxes with abandon and extorted treasures to honor the emperor’s jubilee.

The regent strove to halt this excess, but who could have foreseen that the emperor, together with Prime Minister Lin and other officials, would fabricate baseless charges and force the regent into seclusion at home. The regent was placed under house arrest, and the military command in his hands was divided and stripped away. Should the regent make even the slightest move, the emperor was prepared to accuse him of treason without hesitation.

That very autumn, in September, rebel forces rose and swept all the way to the capital. Within the city, music and revelry filled the air, a picture of prosperity masking deep rot. Beyond the walls, corpses littered the fields and refugees wailed in despair.

By the time the emperor and his cohort of inept ministers realized the depths of their peril, the rebels were at the city gates. In a panic, the emperor convened a council, desperate for someone to lead the army into battle. Yet the ministers only shifted blame and responsibility among themselves; not a single one dared to step forward.

Shaking with rage, the emperor shouted, “Hundreds of officials, and not one is fit to lead an army?”

They only exchanged helpless glances, none willing to speak.

Growing more irate, the emperor barked, “Prime Minister Lin, what say you?”

Prime Minister Lin, father to Lin Fu, folded his hands and replied, “Your Majesty, in my humble opinion, perhaps we should consider negotiations?”

The others instantly echoed their agreement.

The emperor’s eyes lit up. “That’s an excellent idea! Attend me!”

He was willing to cede territory and pay reparations—so long as he remained emperor, he cared for nothing else.

A trace of mockery, tinged with helplessness, flashed in Lin’s gaze. Southern Ming was beset by enemies within and without; if not for the regent securing the borders and maintaining years of peace through his shrewdness, the dynasty would have fallen long ago.

Alas, the regent’s power had grown too great. He acted as he pleased, never accepting the advances of these officials, conducting business with strict impartiality. In the eyes of the emperor and ministers, he had long since become a dire threat. Besides, Mo Nianian dared treat his daughter that way!

Thus, Prime Minister Lin wholly sided with the emperor.

With Lin’s proposal embraced by all, the emperor immediately sent envoys to treat with the rebels. He offered the most favorable terms: land, reparations—whatever was asked.

He even suggested marriage alliances. Yet, the envoys never even met the rebel leader; they were simply turned away.

The rebels declared that within three days, the capital would fall.

The emperor’s dread only deepened. He spent a sleepless night in anguish, and, seeing no way out, decided to seek the regent in person. At least the regent still existed; he could always restore his power if need be.

Arriving at the regent’s residence, the emperor found the gates tightly closed. The steward informed him the regent was “repenting past errors.” The emperor made grand promises, spoke with honeyed words, but was still refused entry.

Fuming, he stood outside the residence, berating the regent as heartless, disloyal, and unfilial. The regent paid him no mind, ignoring him completely.

Enraged nearly to madness, the emperor would have ordered the residence surrounded if not for the thousands of elite troops stationed there. With no recourse, he stormed back to the palace.

The Mo family heard every word of the emperor’s frustrated tirade. Popping a grape into her mouth, Mo Nianian asked, “How did you endure him all these years?”

An emperor so foolish—she had never heard of such a thing.

The regent rubbed his head. “Before my father died, he was always concerned for his empire. I just wanted to honor a fraction of his last wishes.”

The late emperor had truly cherished the regent; otherwise, with his temperament, he would have long since taken his family to wander the mountains and rivers, never remaining for such thankless toil.

After the emperor’s ascension, his character was known to all. Able ministers retired; the borders simmered with unrest. The situation was dire. Yet, the emperor felt no sense of crisis, convinced that on the throne, all should obey him. He indulged in excess, trusted flatterers.

The regent, unable to endure further, took on every responsibility, reducing the emperor to a mere figurehead. But one man can only do so much, and he was surrounded by a host of fools. He sighed, “This day was long overdue. At least I’ve kept my promise to the late emperor.”

For once, Lady Mo did not chide him, simply keeping quiet by his side.

Mo Nianian, with no deep attachment to Southern Ming, offered a half-hearted comfort, “Take heart. Once a new dynasty is established, life can hardly be worse than it is now.”

At that, the regent brightened. “You’re right. Then I can finally be free of burdens, and take you both to travel at leisure.”

“And bring Jiang Hu along as well.”

The Mo family all knew of Jiang Hu’s past. Far from resenting him, their hearts ached with sympathy for his hardships.

The regent gave a perfunctory grunt of assent.

Lady Mo glanced at the sky. “It’s about time; Jiang Hu and the others should be finishing up by now.”

“Who knows? He said he’d come as soon as he was done.”

“There’s always risk in battle. Aren’t you at all worried?” Lady Mo tapped Mo Nianian’s forehead with gentle reproach.

The regent, a little jealous, said, “The city’s defenders are all cowards. In two days at most, the capital will fall.”

Perhaps not even two days; the defenders might surrender at the first sign of trouble.

Fortunately, he had previously withdrawn the Mo family army—otherwise, they might have found themselves fighting their own kin.

After a few more words with the regent, Lady Mo turned the conversation to Mo Nianian and Jiang Hu.

She scrutinized Mo Nianian’s belly for a long moment, frowning. “You’ve been married to Jiang Hu nearly two years. Why is there still no sign?”

With no one else around, Lady Mo spoke freely. “Shall I find a physician for you? I know one who specializes in such matters.”

Startled, Mo Nianian swallowed a grape whole and nearly choked.

“Cough, cough! Mother, what are you saying?”

Seeing her daughter, so utterly helpless without Jiang Hu, Lady Mo could only sigh. “Never mind, I won’t count on you. I’ll have a proper talk with Jiang Hu when he arrives.”

“This is no small matter. If you don’t take it seriously, you’ll regret it one day.”

Mo Nianian lay motionless on her recliner. “Fine, you talk to him then.”

After all, in Lady Mo’s eyes, Jiang Hu’s place had long since surpassed her own.

Lady Mo hesitated, then leaned close to whisper, “Be honest with me, Nianian—could it be that Jiang Hu has... difficulties?”

Mo Nianian nearly choked again, coughing violently.

“Careful, my lady,” came Jiang Hu’s voice. No one knew when he had returned. He poured her a cup of water and gently patted her back as she drank.