Prince Rui stood at a distance, face dark as storm clouds, a very clear and very humiliating footprint stamped across the back of his robe like an official seal of disgrace. From where he hid among the warehouses, he watched the Gao Family Village militia loading grain at the docks of Hanzhong Prefecture, his eyes burning with a mix of greed, resentment, and wounded pride.
Sacks upon sacks of grain were carried down in disciplined lines, transferred from carts to boats with astonishing efficiency. Before long, the river was crowded with vessels, forming a dense flotilla that stretched along the upper reaches of the Han River like a floating marketplace preparing to migrate downstream.
Here, the river was still narrow. No towering merchant junks could pass through these waters. Only smaller boats could operate safely, which meant that if one wished to move mountains of grain, one had to rely not on size, but on numbers.
And numbers were precisely what Gao Family Village possessed.
Their advance team had swept through the area earlier, waving silver with cheerful decisiveness, leasing nearly every boat available. The boatmen, who had grown used to scraping by on irregular transport work, found themselves suddenly blessed by fortune. Not only were they paid generously, they were told this arrangement might continue for a long time.
Nothing in this world pleased a boatman more than steady income and someone else worrying about the risks.
To accelerate operations, Gao Family Village's logistics soldiers worked shoulder to shoulder with hired porters, who were being paid wages so high that several of them had begun reconsidering their career choices in favor of permanent service.
The porters laughed as they worked. The boatmen hummed songs. Even the tea stalls nearby had doubled their prices without protest from customers.
The entire city of Hanzhong buzzed like a marketplace during festival season. Carpenters repaired docks. Ropemakers sold out their stock. Food vendors did brisk business feeding laborers who suddenly had money to spend. Even those with no direct involvement found themselves benefiting from the surge.
Only one man did not.
Prince Rui.
He watched all of it with clenched teeth.
He had not managed to skim a single copper coin. Not one.
He had been kicked. In public. By commoners.
And now this grand spectacle of wealth flowed before him like a river he could neither dam nor divert.
"This Prince must report this to the Emperor," he muttered, lips pursed petulantly. "To assault a prince is lawless. Utterly lawless. I will accuse them."
His trusted eunuch, who had survived court politics precisely because he knew when not to be enthusiastic, leaned closer and whispered urgently, "Your Highness, you must not."
Prince Rui snapped, "Why must I not? This Prince was beaten. Am I forbidden even from complaining?"
The eunuch lowered his voice further, glancing around as if the wind itself might inform on them.
"These are disaster relief supplies, Your Highness. His Majesty wishes to provide relief, yet the treasury is strained. The civil officials press him to use his personal reserves, which has caused him considerable distress. He prays daily for wealthy subjects to step forward with donations. He even sells official titles to gentry willing to contribute funds and grain."
Prince Rui's expression shifted slightly.
The eunuch continued, carefully, "These supplies will certainly earn imperial favor. If Your Highness had skimmed even a little, you would have to worry about them reporting you first. And if His Majesty asks why they struck you…"
He paused.
"If you admit you tried to take from disaster relief supplies, would His Majesty not make an example of you?"
Silence fell.
Prince Rui blinked.
For the first time since the kick, clarity descended.
So that was why they had dared.
His earlier indignation shrank, replaced by something colder. Fear.
Not only had he been beaten, but now he had to worry about being reported.
Prince Rui wiped sweat from his brow.
"These supplies originated in Xi'an," he muttered. "If the local gentry wish to accuse this Prince, they would require the cooperation of Shaanxi Governor Sun Chuanting to submit a memorial."
His eyes sharpened.
"Go to Xi'an at once. Smooth things over with Sun Chuanting. Make sure the gentry keep quiet. This must not reach the capital."
The eunuch departed immediately.
Prince Rui abandoned thoughts of embezzlement, but another idea began forming in his mind like mold in damp wood.
These ships would eventually enter the Yangtze via Hankou.
And Hankou was under the authority of Prince of Chu, Zhu Huakui.
That man was not known for restraint.
Prince Rui's lips curved faintly.
Let us see, he thought, whether these so-called mighty dragons can survive meeting a true local tyrant.
A few days later, the eunuch returned to Hanzhong.
"Sun Chuanting has agreed," he reported. "He will restrain the gentry."
Prince Rui brightened immediately.
"But…" the eunuch added in a lower tone, "he demanded a thousand taels of silver as a hush fee. This servant argued relentlessly and managed to reduce it to seven hundred."
Prince Rui sucked in a sharp breath.
Seven hundred taels was not ruinous to him. He could afford it easily.
But to fail at extorting profit and instead be forced to pay money…
For a miser, this was a spiritual injury.
Somewhere far away, the treasury of Gao Family Village very happily received seven hundred taels of silver into its accounts.
The fleet, meanwhile, continued downstream toward Hankou.
Zhu Cunji and Zhu Yujian accompanied the convoy.
The boats moved swiftly, covering astonishing distances each day. Before long, they entered the Yunxiang region. Thanks to Luo Xi's oversight and the solid groundwork laid earlier by Lu Xiangheng, the fleet encountered no obstruction and passed through smoothly.
Here, however, Zhu Yujian lingered at the railing longer than usual.
To the northeast lay Nanyang, his former fief.
He gazed in that direction for a long time.
There was melancholy in his eyes. Regret, certainly. But not remorse.
Strangely, he felt something akin to gratitude.
Had he remained confined in Nanyang, he might never have seen how vast the world truly was. His journey to Shaanxi had only begun, yet already his horizons had expanded beyond anything his former title could contain.
After leaving Yunxiang behind, the fleet would soon enter the territory of Prince of Chu, Zhu Huakui.
On the largest ship, Zhuge Wangchan reviewed reports concerning the man.
"This one," he said thoughtfully, "will not be simple."
Zhu Yujian nodded. "He is ruthless. Years ago there was the False Prince of Chu Case. Some claimed he was not the legitimate son of the previous Prince. The matter caused tremendous uproar. In the end, Zhu Huakui sent men to beat Huguang Governor Zhao Kehuai to death. Only then did the issue disappear."
Zhuge Wangchan frowned. "He dared to kill a governor?"
"Yet he still sits comfortably as Prince of Chu," Zhu Yujian said bitterly. "While I…"
He stopped.
Too many ears.
The rest remained unsaid.
Before the silence could grow heavier, a small boat approached from upstream. A soldier from Gao Family Village's advance reconnaissance unit stood at the bow, shouting before he had even fully drawn near.
"Captain! Urgent news! Wuchang is overrun by bandits. The main force of the Eight Great Kings, Zhang Xianzhong, is ravaging the countryside outside the city. Both banks of the Han River are filled with refugees."
The deck fell silent.
Zhu Cunji stiffened.
Zhu Yujian's expression darkened.
A soldier asked carefully, "Should we assist them?"
Zhuge Wangchan turned sharply. "Of course."
The soldier hesitated. "But our destination is Sichuan. These supplies were allocated for disaster relief there."
Zhuge Wangchan's gaze sharpened.
"There is no such thing as pre-ordered destiny," he said evenly. "Divide the supplies. Aid the refugees at Wuchang and continue transporting the remainder to Sichuan. Send word back to the village to dispatch more grain."
He looked toward the distant smoke rising near Wuchang.
"As long as it is to save refugees, Dao Xuan Tianzun will not let us lack provisions."
The soldiers answered in unison, "Understood."
The fleet pressed forward without fear.
Before long, they reached the stretch of river near Wuchang.
And there, along both banks, humanity overflowed like floodwater.
Refugees packed the shore in endless streams, fleeing toward the city, clutching children, dragging carts, carrying what little remained of their lives in bundles tied with fraying rope.
The Han River flowed between them.
And into that river sailed grain.