Chapter 15: The Cruelty of Chen Fusheng
Chapter 15: The Cruelty of Chen Fusheng
After parting ways with Chen Chang’an, Zhuge Haotian raced toward the river levees, his horse’s hooves churning the mud into a frantic rhythm.
Days of relentless, oppressive rain had swollen the river until the water level clawed at the warning markers. Sentries stood like statues along the banks, their gazes fixed and unblinking upon the rising tide. Though the prophecy from the Dragon King’s dream had specifically identified the seventh levee as the point of failure, Zhuge Haotian was not a man to leave his fate to the whims of chance. He inspected every single one.
Levee One: Secure.
Levee Two: Secure.
Levee Three...
Night fell, a heavy shroud of damp darkness. Just as Zhuge Haotian began to wonder if his paranoia had finally eclipsed his reason, a subordinate burst into his command tent, breathless and wild-eyed.
“Excellency! You must come at once! Something is wrong with the seventh levee!”
A cold tremor seized Zhuge Haotian. He followed the man at a dead run, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Three days and nights of torrential downpour had transformed the river into a churning, mud-choked leviathan. The water lashed against the embankments with the fury of a cornered dragon. The seventh levee looked like a titan on the verge of collapse; the very earth and stone seemed to shudder, groaning under the weight of the immense pressure. Each impact of the river sent a dull, sickening thud through the soles of his boots.
The structure was beginning to tilt. It was a desperate, final struggle against the inevitable—the clear, terrifying precursor to a catastrophic breach.
Seeing the state of the masonry, Zhuge Haotian’s fury boiled over. He kicked a pile of loose sediment at the base of the levee, his face contorting. “I issued the order three times! No sand was to be used in these levees! Who dared defy my command?”
He grabbed a nearby officer by the collar, shaking him. “If the seventh levee breaks, Yuyang City will be swallowed whole! Who was responsible? Give me a name!”
The subordinates swallowed hard, trembling so violently they could barely remain upright. Silence reigned, save for the roar of the water. Finally, an elderly overseer stepped forward, his voice a thin reed in the wind. “Excellency... this section was under the direct supervision of Lord Dong Qingshan. We were merely following orders. We didn’t know...”
*Dong Qingshan? My own brother-in-law?*
Zhuge Haotian’s eyes turned a lethal, bloodshot red. He should have known. His marriage to Dong Qingshan’s sister had been a political necessity, a union forced upon him by the Dong family’s prestige. He had been obligated to keep the man close, but he had never imagined the fool would be so brazenly suicidal.
*Damn him. I’ll see him executed for this.*
“Send a rider to Jiangdu immediately!” Zhuge Haotian barked. “Notify the Prefect that the upstream gates must be opened. Tell him to begin the emergency evacuation of the lowlands! We have one night. At the Hour of the Dragon tomorrow, we open the floodgates.”
He turned back to the overseer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Where is Dong Qingshan?”
“The... the Red Plum Pavilion, Excellency.”
Zhuge Haotian’s temper exploded. The Red Plum Pavilion—the most decadent pleasure house in Yuyang City, a den of silk, wine, and sin. While the city stood on the brink of annihilation, his brother-in-law was dallying with courtesans.
“Gather the guard,” Zhuge Haotian commanded, his eyes burning with a cold, blue fire. “I’m going to kill him myself.”
***
Inside the Red Plum Pavilion, the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and expensive wine. The melodies of lutes and flutes wove through the halls, enchanting and ethereal. Courtesans clad in gossamer silks danced upon the stage, their movements as light and erratic as butterflies in a summer gale. Laughter and the rhythmic clinking of jade cups filled the humid air.
In a private chamber, candlelight flickered against silk screens. Women reclined on plush couches, teasing their guests with honeyed voices that could melt the strongest resolve.
“My Lord, there is a beauty mark upon my breast,” one whispered, leaning in close. “Would you care to find it?”
“Oh, don’t ignore Chun Tao! Let me join the fun!”
Dong Qingshan was lost in a sea of soft curves and perfumed skin, laughing with drunken abandon. Though he was barely five-and-twenty, the dissipation of the brothels had already hollowed him out. He looked like a walking corpse, pale and devoid of vitality.
*Bang!*
The door was kicked off its hinges. Zhuge Haotian strode into the room, radiating a killing intent so potent it seemed to freeze the very air.
The courtesans began to shriek in protest, but the words died in their throats the moment they recognized the intruder. They scrambled to their knees, heads bowed in terror. “We greet the Excellency of Works!”
Zhuge Haotian ignored them, walking straight toward Dong Qingshan. The younger man rolled his eyes lazily, barely shifting his position. “Brother-in-law? What is all this fuss? You’re ruining the mood.” He patted the hand of a girl nearby. “Don’t worry, little beauties. Lord Dong is here to protect you.”
The sheer gall of the man ignited a wildfire in Zhuge Haotian’s chest. He didn’t bother drawing his blade; instead, he swung the heavy bronze hilt down, smashing it into Dong Qingshan’s forehead.
*Crack!*
Dong Qingshan recoiled, his vision blurring as blood began to stream down his face. The courtesans gasped in horror. Lord Dong—beaten like a common thief?
“You dare strike me?” Dong Qingshan roared, his pride stung worse than his flesh. “I’ll tell my sister! I’ll see how she punishes you for this!”
*Clang!*
Zhuge Haotian drew his steel, the ring of the blade silencing the room. “Dong Qingshan, you have committed a capital crime, yet you still posture like a king? Even if your sister knelt before me in tears, I would still take your head today.”
Sensing the genuine lethality in the air, Dong Qingshan faltered. “A crime? What are you talking about?”
“The seventh levee. I ordered mountain stone. Why is it filled with sand and river mud?” Zhuge Haotian’s eyes spewed fire. “Speak! Give me the truth, or die where you sit!”
Dong Qingshan froze, then, to Zhuge Haotian’s shock, he burst into a mocking laugh. “The seventh levee? So, you found out. I admit, it was a shortcut. But I was merely following orders. The person who commanded this is someone neither of us can afford to offend. Now, put that sword away. Let’s drink!”
Zhuge Haotian’s grip tightened. *Does he think the lives of Yuyang’s people are a joke?* He swung the blade horizontally, the edge whispering against the skin of Dong Qingshan’s throat.
“Who gave the order?”
Dong Qingshan’s face finally went ashen. He saw the abyss in his brother-in-law’s eyes. “Fine! Everyone, get out! Out!”
The courtesans fled the room in a frantic rustle of silk. Once they were alone, Dong Qingshan spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. “You’re a clever man, Zhuge Haotian. I’ll give you that. It was the Eleventh Prince—Chen Fusheng. I was just the hand that took the coin. You can’t blame me for the whims of the Huainan Manor!”
*Chen Fusheng?*
Zhuge Haotian’s mind flashed to the image of the Eleventh Prince—a youth known for his refinement and scholarly grace. He clenched his jaw until his teeth creaked. “Lies. Yuyang is under the Prince of Huainan’s protection. Why would his own son seek to destroy it? What could he possibly gain from a flood?”
Dong Qingshan let out a dismissive snort. “No wonder you’ve remained a mere Excellency of Works all these years. You have no vision. The imperial examinations are approaching. With the Eleventh Prince’s talent, he is a lock for Imperial Laureate. But talent isn’t enough for the throne—he needs a legacy.”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping. “If a ‘natural disaster’ strikes Yuyang, the Eleventh Prince will be the first to petition the Emperor to lead the relief efforts. With the Huainan Manor’s resources, he will ‘save’ the city in record time. The Emperor will be overjoyed. Political capital, Zhuge Haotian. Do you understand now?”
A chill raced down Zhuge Haotian’s spine, his scalp tingling with pure horror. To drown thousands of innocents just to manufacture a heroic reputation? It was demonic.
He grabbed Dong Qingshan by the throat, hauling him up. “We are going to the Huainan Manor. I will confront the Prince with your testimony!”
“Let go! You fool!” Dong Qingshan struggled. “What will that achieve? Chen Fusheng is his father’s favorite. If he denies it, who will the Prince believe? You’ll only succeed in getting the Zhuge and Dong families wiped out in a single night!”
Zhuge Haotian’s face turned a bruised purple with exertion and rage, but his arm slowly lost its strength. His blade fell to the floor with a hollow clang. His brother-in-law was right. To strike at Chen Fusheng without absolute proof was suicide.
*Chen Fusheng... you are truly a monster.*
“Brother-in-law, this is the way of the world,” Dong Qingshan said, smoothing his robes as he sat back down. “If you only seek to do good, you will never be valued. One general’s glory is built upon ten thousand rotting bones. What does it matter if a few lowly commoners drown for the sake of a Prince’s future?”
He reclined comfortably, shouting toward the door, “Ladies! Come back in! Our guest was just leaving!”