Cut to Reality
Huoyu thought he had been momentarily dazzled—had his master just smiled?
"You may go. Don't concern yourself with this matter anymore."
Li Yan was a shrewd man. He knew how to suppress this issue and handle it in a way that wouldn't affect his future career in the officialdom.
Yet, Huoyu stood motionless in front of the desk.
Mu Zhao glanced at him. "What else is there?"
Huoyu's expression instantly fell. "Your Highness, a few days ago, we found some traces of the Xuanyin Sect. We led a search party near Qiongshan for several days but still failed to locate the Tianyin Master."
"The Xuanyin Sect disappeared over a decade ago. Now, there's hardly a trace left of it."
"We finally received some leads, but they turned up nothing."
Mu Zhao nodded, appearing indifferent. "There's not much to be done. In truth, no one even knows whether the Tianyin Master still exists. If the circumstances allow, continue the search, but don't force it."
Huoyu nearly jumped in frustration. "How can we just let this go? Your injury is still untreated!"
If they could capture the Tianyin Master by force, even if they had to drag him back in chains, they had to send him to the prince!
Huoyu looked both confused and distressed. "Don't worry, my subordinates and I will continue the search."
Mu Zhao waved a hand dismissively. He knew they would spare no effort, whether it was Xuanping Hou's Mansion or their own forces.
No matter how many times he tried to persuade them not to waste their efforts, his parents wouldn't listen. They would still send search parties and scour every corner.
Forget it. Let them do as they please.
Mu Zhao wanted to bathe and change, but he suddenly recalled something. He called Changqing inside and asked, "Did something happen to Lord Lu earlier? He seemed troubled when he returned."
Changqing nodded quickly. "Tonight, we prepared hundreds of barrels of corn and bean porridge for the famine victims outside the city. It should have been a good deed, and Lord Lu even personally supervised the distribution. But to our shock, he discovered that a large amount of fine sand had been mixed into the porridge."
Mu Zhao remained silent, eyes closed in contemplation.
Changqing continued, "Lord Lu questioned some of the workers and found out that the chief minister had ordered it. The reasoning was absurd—he claimed it was to prevent wealthier civilians from disguising themselves as victims to take advantage of the food distribution."
"Lord Lu was furious! He had a private confrontation with Chief Minister He. Imagine it—a refined and composed young man, pointing at He's nose, berating him for dereliction of duty, and calling him a lazy, mediocre official. He was so enraged!"
Mu Zhao: …
It was hard to imagine Lu Xiwen cursing at someone.
He had always thought the man had no temper at all.
Just as they spoke, a soft knock came at the door, followed by a familiar voice.
"Huaizhi, are you still awake?"
Changqing shot his prince a knowing glance.
It felt like they had just been caught gossiping by the very subject of their conversation.
Mu Zhao gave him a slight nod, and Changqing quickly walked over to open the door. He bowed respectfully. "Please come in, Lord Lu. I'll make some tea for you two."
Lu Qian entered, looking sullen. Mu Zhao couldn't help but find it amusing.
After bringing the tea, Changqing tactfully left the room. Mu Zhao personally poured a cup for Lu Qian and teased, "Are you sulking because you scolded He Changshi too much?"
Lu Qian let out a heavy sigh and looked up at him. "You knew about this long before I did, didn't you?"
Mu Zhao raised an eyebrow.
"You don't seem surprised at all. Has this kind of thing happened in the army before?"
Mu Zhao took a slow sip of tea. "Worse things have happened. Forget a little sand—soldiers have eaten dirt, tree bark, and even stones just to survive."
Lu Qian's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp. "So, do you think He Changshi was right?"
He had questioned the workers, and they admitted this practice had been going on since the first day of porridge distribution. This wasn't an isolated case—it had been happening for days.
For days, famine victims had been eating nothing but porridge laced with sand.
He stared at Mu Zhao, hands clenching tightly.
He should have realized it sooner.
Who was Mu Huaizhi? He was the one praised by the emperor himself for his brilliance.
How could he not have known?
He had known all along—but he simply hadn't said anything!
"You tacitly approved of what He Changshi did. You believe he was right!"
"Mu Huaizhi, do you even see how miserable those starving people are?"
Mu Zhao let out a soft sigh. "I see it. But sometimes, reality is harsher than morality."
"The fact is, we have only a limited amount of food, yet the number of famine victims is endless. If we mix the porridge with some sand, it lasts longer. If it were nothing but muddy water, they'd still drink it—to stay alive."
Lu Qian fell silent.
Mu Zhao's words felt cold, pragmatic—like a man who had accepted that survival sometimes required cruelty.
It was as if he were saying, Even if you placed a bowl of poison before me, I'd drink it if it meant I could live another day.
"We're currently building wooden shelters outside the city and arranging for groups to clear land and plant trees."
"Even if we plant winter wheat now, the earliest harvest won't be until next year."
"The imperial court has allocated three batches of food shipments, totaling just over a thousand stones of grain." Mu Zhao lowered his gaze. "Even with donations from nearby counties and villages, it's not enough."
"If we prioritize the people at the front of the line, what happens to those still arriving? Have you thought about trading some of this food for medicine and essential supplies?"
"These people have traveled long distances, exposed to the elements. If we ignore their illnesses, they won't survive, food or not."
Lu Qian's expression was heavy. He was silent for a long moment before finally exhaling deeply.
"You're right," he admitted. "Your wisdom surpasses mine. I only see three steps ahead, but you're already looking three hundred steps forward."
"In the past few days, the death toll has increased… Huaizhi, you're not in good health, yet you're still dealing with all these matters."
Mu Zhao chuckled. "It's nothing. The real challenge is maintaining order. If chaos erupts, it won't matter how much food we have."
"The last batch of grain will arrive in three days. I've already discussed with Governor Yu—tomorrow, we'll gather the wealthiest families in the city and request further donations. That should help."
Lu Qian hesitated. "Should I… apologize to He Changshi?"
Mu Zhao laughed. "No need. I'll smooth things over with him later."
Lu Qian sighed, feeling even guiltier for causing trouble for Prince Mu.
Taking a sip of tea, he asked in a low voice, "Are we still going to Changle Gambling House tomorrow morning?"
"Yes," Mu Zhao nodded. "I'm curious—perhaps Miss Yu has discovered something during her investigations."
Lu Qian didn't reply but shared his curiosity.
The two talked late into the night, and by the time they finished, Lu Qian was no longer as frustrated as when he arrived.
The next morning, after breakfast, they ordered a carriage and rushed to Changle Gambling House—where, from a distance, they could already see the Yu family's carriage had arrived.