Chapter 79: A Majestic Show of Might

At such a critical moment, who would bother taking statements? One by one, the officials rushed over to witness the spectacle. Lady Chen Feng wept with utter devastation, mourning that she had sat atop a treasure without knowing it; had the well been discovered earlier, her son would not have lost his life.

“Quickly, someone go and report this joyous news to the governor,” Xu Jie said, touching the icy underground water. He turned back, swiftly wrote a report, and handed it to a subordinate, instructing him to return at once by horse.

Cai Cong sat high in the governor’s yamen, while a steady stream of accusations and confessions were delivered by various officials and gentry. He dealt with them decisively and mercilessly—some were fined, others imprisoned, but most had their families’ properties confiscated or faced execution.

For a time, the Zhengzhou prison was overflowing, packed with the former high officials and distinguished figures of the city. The scholarly class was seized by panic, and some had already sent secret letters to Chang’an, seeking to have Cai Cong impeached through their court connections.

At noon, after eating just a few bites, Cai Cong had fallen asleep at the dining table. Old Meng watched with aching heart—gone was the wise and formidable young lord who passed judgment like a mountain; what remained was merely an utterly exhausted child.

“Report—”

Someone rushed in, shouting, only to be silenced as Old Meng covered his mouth and threw him to the ground with an over-the-shoulder toss.

“If there’s news, it can wait. The young lord hasn’t slept all night, and this morning he judged so many cases. He’s only just fallen asleep—don’t wake him,” Old Meng whispered irritably to the messenger. At that moment, a small hand reached out from behind, lifting the messenger to his feet.

“Old Meng, don’t do that again. Missing a bit of sleep won’t kill me. Disaster relief waits for no one!” Cai Cong said cheerfully, rubbing his eyes and flicking away a speck of sleep.

“It’s just that we feel for you, my lord. With so much burden on your shoulders, we rough men are of little use and can only watch you exhaust yourself,” Old Meng replied softly, moving behind Cai Cong to knead his shoulders and back.

“So, what’s the urgent news?” Cai Cong asked with a smile, happily accepting Old Meng’s massage.

“My lord, I bring great tidings! Last night, sixteen geomancers identified one hundred and eighty sites; by this morning, seventy had been dug, and sixty-three produced sweet, fresh water. The rest are still being excavated, and more news should come soon.”

“Excellent, excellent! Convey my orders: the sixteen, including Skinny Monkey, who found water are pardoned of their crimes. If they can find even more sources, I shall erect a monument in Zhengzhou to honor their deeds, so that the people remember them for generations to come.”

Cai Cong’s joy was beyond words. Initially, he had merely hoped for a miracle, never expecting these men to truly deliver one.

The citizens of Zhengzhou erupted in celebration. The streets were filled with happiness; with so many wells, families queued for water, more than enough for their needs. As for the fields, hope had long since faded—crops had perished, and only government relief could help.

Cai Cong’s promise made the geomancers, especially Skinny Monkey and his fellows, wild with delight. Who would choose to be a criminal if they could be remembered in glory? With their crimes forgiven and a chance at immortality, they would have risked death itself. Each day, they worked feverishly, pinpointing water sources until, within ten days, their chosen sites dotted the land like a honeycomb.

There was no need for officials to dig; as soon as a spot was marked, the crowd gathered with shovels and hoes, digging with desperate energy.

Many citizens even set up longevity tablets for Cai Cong in their homes, offering incense morning and evening. The work completed in ten days had made him beloved by all in Zhengzhou.

People flocked from distant towns to seek justice, convinced that only Cai Cong could uphold what was right, regardless of how good their local magistrates might be—after all, he was the guest from Chang’an.

Then came the day when Zhengzhou poured into the streets. Countless people left their homes to witness the executions outside the city. Some even brought their dogs, hoping to snatch a head from the fallen.

Gongsun Neng presided as executioner—it was likely the most awe-inspiring day of his career. Former rivals and the once-proud heads of great families now knelt in rows before him, stripped of their former arrogance.

“The Shi family oppressed the people, hoarded grain and raised prices during disaster, and diverted water for their own use. Sentenced to immediate execution—verify their identities—execute!”

At his command, the executioner’s blade fell, and heads rolled amid the cheers and gnashing of the crowd.

“The Zheng family, Zheng Ziqian—abused their power, seized land during disaster, caused deaths. Sentenced to immediate execution—execute!”

“The Zhu, Zhou, and Qin families—dammed the river, causing misery downstream, even killing innocent villagers and drowning children. Their crimes are beyond forgiveness. Their entire clans are to be executed. Identities verified—execute!”

“Look, my children… open your eyes and see! Those beasts who killed you have finally met their retribution!” Lady Chen Feng, witnessing the heads fall, knelt and wailed, kowtowing repeatedly toward the governor’s yamen with her daughter, heedless of the blood streaming down their faces. There were countless others like her.

In the yamen, Cai Cong sat at the head of the hall. Below him were Zhengzhou’s officials and gentry, many guilty of minor offenses, all bowing their heads, not daring to meet his gaze. Cai Cong paid them little mind, absorbed in studying a jade pendant.

As afternoon wore on, the air grew stiflingly hot. Everyone was drenched in sweat, yet none dared complain. The boldest stole furtive glances at Cai Cong, sitting above them sipping iced water; the timid prayed to faint from the heat and escape this torment.

After another hour, Gongsun Neng strode in and saluted with clasped fists. “By your command, the executions are complete. Four hundred sixty-three were verified and beheaded. Now, outside Zhengzhou, heads lie everywhere and corpses cover the fields—the people are cheering.”

“Very good. If the people are pleased, then so am I. Tell me, should we give them another cause for celebration? I think those gathered here would be more than enough for a second round,” Cai Cong remarked nonchalantly.

Immediately, faces went ashen and everyone threw themselves to their knees, begging for mercy. Even Zheng Wenfu turned pale as death, though he managed to remain seated, unmoving.

“I wish to improve irrigation, to connect the great rivers and dig new channels. With better waterworks, the people will rejoice—but I lack funds and grain.”

“My humble home has modest means—I am willing to contribute a thousand strings of cash for this grand endeavor,” a fat official cried before Cai Cong had finished speaking. The rest caught on instantly, shouting out their own offers of money and grain, terrified that giving too little would see them dragged off to their deaths.

“You have all done well. Zheng, our ‘great benefactor,’ how much will you contribute? Your family produced more than a dozen criminals this time, which reminds me of those bandit chiefs’ words—perhaps they were right! Guards! Send a thousand soldiers to surround the Zheng estate; no one leaves or enters until a thorough investigation is complete.”

“Your Excellency, please be just! Every great tree has dead branches; a few disgraceful descendants are to be expected. But my Zheng family would never harbor bandits. Improving irrigation is a noble cause—my family will donate twenty thousand strings of cash and five thousand bushels of grain to support it. Please, your Excellency, see our sincerity!”

At last, Zheng Wenfu could no longer remain seated; he fell to his knees, begging for mercy without the slightest trace of indignation—only relief. Had he chosen defiance before, the Zheng family would have been annihilated by now. This child before him was a harbinger of death, killing without hesitation, never considering the consequences. Who else would dare strike at the Zhengs?

(End of Chapter)