Empress, Can I? [Transmigration + GL] - Chapter 64

Hearing the refugees say they dared not stay in the shelters, Xuan Jingchi was shocked. She had ordered the construction of temporary barracks-like dwellings and even personally drafted the blueprints specifically to house disaster victims until the floods receded, after which funds would be allocated to rebuild their homes.

“Why? Did they fail to build the shelters?”

“No, no, they built them—quickly too. We could move in immediately if we wanted,” Zhou Fu sighed.

“Then why didn’t you stay? Why become displaced?”

Zhou Rui couldn’t contain his anger: “Hmph! The court claims these shelters are freely given, but in truth, they’re just a scheme to seize our farmland.”

Xuan Jingchi asked in astonishment, “What do you mean, seize your farmland?”

“The county magistrate stationed guards at the shelter entrances. To move in, we had to surrender our land deeds first—only then would we be recognized as having ‘lost everything to the floods’ and ‘needing resettlement.’ Only by qualifying for shelter could we qualify for relief grain.”

What?! Xuan Jingchi was stunned. Since when was this the rule? This was outright exploitation—no different from banditry!

Zhou Rui’s face burned with indignation. “Once we surrendered those deeds, we’d have nothing left. How would we feed ourselves? How would we survive?”

“The entire village refused. So we’d rather freeze and starve in the wilderness than hand over our deeds to live in those shelters.”

“Everyone initially thought that enduring until the flood passed would be enough, but after two straight months of torrential rain, the waters never receded. They simply couldn’t hold on any longer.”

“Father gathered the villagers and asked whether they should surrender their land deeds or flee to Yunzhou.”

“No one wanted to give up their land deeds, so they chose to leave. Those with relatives to turn to went to them, while those without, like us, resorted to begging, waiting for the disaster to pass before returning.”

“Some widows and orphans, with no one to rely on, had no choice but to hand over their land deeds and move into the shelters.”

At this point, Zhou Rui stamped his foot in frustration. “Those corrupt officials are despicable, preying on people without mercy, profiting immensely from this disaster!”

Zhou Fu shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do. That female emperor, her fate is tainted with toxic fire, and that’s why the heavens sent down this flood. Ah, she’s brought such suffering upon us all!”

Xuan Jingchi was taken aback. “What? What do you mean the female emperor’s fate is tainted with toxic fire?”

Zhou Rui sighed. “Yanzhou floods every year, but never like this. The waters wouldn’t recede, so the county magistrate had Taoist priests perform a divination. They said the current emperor’s destiny is marked by fire, so intense it scorched the heavens. That’s why the heavens sent the flood—to suppress her toxic fire. But it’s us common folk who suffer.”

Xuan Jingchi was so furious she felt smoke rising from her head. Fortunately, she wore a mask, hiding her indignant expression.

Superstitious nonsense! Who the hell is slandering me like this? Such a huge accusation pinned on me!

No doubt, it must be those damned officials!

Just then, a voice slurred, “Strange, strange. I heard the empress was chosen by the gods.”

It was the voice of a drunken man.

Everyone, including the shopkeeper and his assistants, turned toward the sound.

In the corner sat a disheveled man, his clothes wrinkled and unkempt, though not quite tattered—almost like a beggar. He faced the wall, his back to the crowd. No one could see his face, only that after mumbling those words, he seemed unable to stay upright any longer and collapsed into a deep sleep with a thud.

Xuan Jingchi, jolted by his remark, snapped back to attention and smiled. “Uncle, you must have been fooled by those charlatan priests. The current emperor was personally acknowledged by the gods during the prayer ceremony as the chosen one.”

Zhou Fu blinked his cloudy eyes, bewildered. “If the emperor was chosen by the gods, why would the heavens send disasters, causing this endless flood?”

Xuan Jingchi: “…”

She decided to shift the topic, no longer debating whether the emperor was a curse or a blessing. The priority now was to punish those officials exploiting the chaos.

She turned to Zhou Rui. “Scholar Zhou, if you suspect the county magistrate is seizing your land deeds during this disaster, why not appeal to the prefecture? Let the governor decide for you.”

Zhou Rui looked at her as if she’d said something absurd, his expression one of pity for her naivety. Though her heart was in the right place, she was oversimplifying things. “Commoners suing officials are at an inherent disadvantage. Besides, officials protect one another. Even if we appealed to the governor or the prefect, it would be useless.”

Xuan Jingchi frowned slightly, but soon, her eyes, the only part visible, smiled.

“I have a friend who holds a high position in the court. Write a petition for me, and I’ll take it to her. She can seek justice for you.”

Zhou Rui was skeptical. “Miss, are you serious?”

Xuan Jingchi chuckled. “After all, I’m a wandering knight who’s traveled far and wide. I know many people. Don’t worry—my friend is a truly good official.”

Zhou Rui hesitated, while Zhou Fu’s aged eyes scrutinized Xuan Jingchi up and down, as if unable to discern her true identity.

Seeing their uncertainty—wanting to write but afraid to—Xuan Jingchi didn’t press them. Instead, she said, “Waiter, the tea has gone cold. Could you bring a fresh pot?”

The waiter agreed and soon returned with a new pot. He cautiously advised, “Customer, you mean well. But aren’t you afraid of trouble? Even if they write this petition, it’s a hot potato—dare you take it?”

Xuan Jingchi gave him a grateful look, recognizing his well-intentioned warning. She smiled meaningfully. “This petition—others might refuse it, but I must take it. Coincidentally, I’m someone who isn’t afraid of trouble.”

Hearing this, the waiter shook his head and walked away, muttering under his breath, “Women… overestimating themselves… won’t learn until they hit a wall.”

At that moment, the drunken man began mumbling again. “I’ve wandered in a foreign land, suffered endless humiliation, had my land seized, and can’t return home. I live like neither man nor ghost—what misery! Now the gods have shown mercy, letting me meet a noble soul who can help me seek justice. Yet I’m too cowardly to speak—serves me right!”

Xuan Jingchi heard this and glanced at him again, only to see him slumped over the table, snoring once more.

Zhou Rui made up his mind. “Fine! I’ll write it! Not just for our Zhou Village, but for the seven or eight surrounding villages too!”

The beggars crowding the streets, hearing that someone would appeal on their behalf, erupted in joy and fervor. Upon learning that the petition would be taken to a high official in the capital, they surged into the inn, jostling to press their crimson fingerprints onto the document.

A long petition, more than half of it covered in their scarlet prints.

Xuan Jingchi solemnly accepted their blood-written plea. Overwhelmed with gratitude, they knelt and kowtowed, praising her as a divine savior sent by the heavens.

Xuan Jingchi smiled faintly. She saw light in their dim eyes.

The spark of hope was burning.

Upstairs, Xuan Jingchi asked the waiter for two buckets of water and managed to take a bath. After days on the road, she finally had a chance to wash with hot water.

She couldn’t help but think of Xiao Yueli. What was she doing now? Reviewing memorials, reading, or perhaps bathing like her?

As she mused, Xuan Jingchi seemed to see Xiao Yueli’s ethereal beauty—her delicate, captivating features—and couldn’t help but curve her lips into a smile.

After washing up, Xuan Jingchi lay down in her clothes, her thoughts drifting back to what Zhou Rui had told her today. It was clear that someone in Yanzhou was exploiting the disaster for personal gain. She resolved to head to Yanzhou first thing tomorrow to meet Meng Wan and see what she had uncovered.

She blew out the candle and was about to sleep when sudden commotion erupted downstairs.

The innkeeper’s panicked voice rang out. “Officers, officers! What’s the meaning of this?”

Several rough voices shouted, “We’re here to arrest a notorious bandit! A swindler! Someone saw her staying at your inn.”

The innkeeper was shocked. “Officer, you must be mistaken. How could there be a notorious bandit here?”

“Hmph! Have you seen a masked woman in green? Which room is she in? Speak quickly!”

“Ah! This, this…”

Ever since Xuan Jingchi had gained a trace of spiritual power, her internal energy had greatly increased, and her vision and hearing had sharpened. Although the officers deliberately lowered their voices, she could still hear them clearly.

Now, she finally understood—the so-called “notorious bandit” they were talking about was none other than herself!

She hurriedly packed her belongings, took the blood letter, slung her bow over her shoulder, grabbed her sword, and seeing the open window, she swiftly leaped out. Then, she quietly slipped to the back, knocked out an officer guarding below with a single palm strike, led out a horse, mounted it, and whipped it into a gallop.

From behind, she heard shouts, “Here! Over here! She’s here! She’s escaping!”

Xuan Jingchi turned her head and saw the officers rushing out of the inn in a flurry, immediately giving chase.

With a hearty laugh, she cracked her whip, and the horse sped away like the wind, vanishing into the streets in an instant.

She rode straight out of the city, not slowing down until she was more than twenty miles beyond the walls.

True to her promise to Xiao Yueli, she avoided direct confrontation. Even though her current skills would have made short work of those officers, she chose instead to play the part of a fleeing rabbit with effortless grace.