Chapter 17: Unity is Strength

In front of the Luoyang Prefectural Government Office, a temporary shed had been erected to shield against the wind and snow.

Under the shed, five clerks were writing feverishly.

"Name," a clerk asked.

"Tian Dafu," a middle-aged man with a large belly dressed in silk said with a beaming smile.

"What are you donating?"

"Ten thousand taels of silver, plus one hundred bolts of mulberry silk and one hundred dan of grain."

The clerk noted it down, "We thank Benefactor Tian for his donation."

As the slip of paper was passed to the back, the clerk specifically responsible for writing the Red List immediately dipped his brush in ink. Seeing his name ranked second, written directly beneath the two large characters for Tang Zhao, Tian Dafu departed, feeling thoroughly satisfied.

"Name."

"Zhang Qian," said a young scholar dressed in a scholar's robe.

"What are you donating?"

"My family's circumstances are modest, but I wish to contribute my part to the people of our Great Yu. I wish to donate thirty taels of silver to help the victims survive the winter."

"We thank Scholar Zhang for his donation."

"Name."

"My folks didn't give me a name. I'm a butcher; the neighbors all call me Butcher Zhang. Just write Butcher Zhang, sir."

"Butcher Zhang," the clerk noted, "and what are you donating?"

"My family slaughters pigs, and we raise them too. I'm donating thirty pigs so the victims can have meat!"

The clerk paused, then wrote down a donation of thirty pigs, addressing him with equal respect: "We thank the Righteous Man Zhang for his donation."

This was the first time in his life Butcher Zhang had been called a "Righteous Man," and it was by an official. The burly man felt a sudden wave of bashfulness and bolted away.

The Consort of the Heir watched, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh, but when she turned her head, the scene before her made it impossible to laugh.

"Are you truly donating?" the clerk asked repeatedly.

"Donating!" a small beggar of thirteen or fourteen patted his chest. "A real man stands by his word. If I say I'll donate, I'll donate."

Fine, the clerk conceded, "What do you wish to donate?"

The little beggar pulled a piece of tattered cloth from his bosom, carefully unfolded it, and held it out with both hands. "There is a total of one hundred and thirty-two wen here. It's what my thirteen brothers and sisters managed to beg over the last two months." The little beggar asked sheepishly, "Can you write all our names down?"

"I can," the clerk choked up, picking up his brush. "What is your name?"

The little beggar scratched his head. Oh no—they had forgotten to give themselves names!

"How about this? I'll write 'Donation from the Thirteen Beggar Righteous Men'?"

The little beggar was dissatisfied. What did he mean by "Beggar Righteous Men"? He pointed to the first name on the Red List and asked, "How do you say that character?"

The clerk looked back. "Tang."

"Then our surname is Tang," the little beggar urged. "Just write 'Righteous Man Tang'."

The clerk's lip twitched as he wrote: *Thirteen Righteous Men Tang donated one hundred and thirty-two wen.*

The little beggar could not read, so he pestered the clerk to read it aloud three times before departing, satisfied.

The Consort of the Heir signaled for someone to stop the little beggar.

"What are you doing?" the little beggar asked, frightened.

Fengqi grabbed a handful of candies from her pouch and gave them to him. "Don't be afraid. My mistress is the Consort of the Heir of the Prince Xuan Mansion. She only wants to ask you a few questions; she won't hurt you."

"Prince Xuan's Mansion?" The little beggar's eyes lit up. "Is it the same Prince Xuan's Mansion where the Fifth Young Mistress donated her and her biological mother's entire dowry?"

Fengqi faltered at the introduction. "Yes, our Consort is the eldest sister-in-law of the Fifth Young Mistress."

"Then, Consort... may I ask why you are looking for me?" the little beggar asked, stammering with excitement.

Looking at the little beggar in his thin hemp clothes and with frostbitten, cracked toes, Lady Ming asked with eyes full of pity, "You can barely feed or clothe yourself; why do you still want to donate your belongings to the victims?"

"The Fifth Young Mistress was willing to donate hundreds of thousands of taels to aid the disaster; what do we have to lose by giving a mere hundred wen?" the little beggar said. "Lord Yin allowed us to go to the relief tents to drink porridge and receive hemp clothes. If we did that, the money we begged would be useless. Rather than keeping it, it's better to donate it so everyone can use it together."

"Consort, are you also here to donate?"

Lady Ming said gently, "Yes, though my donation is far less than that of the Fifth Young Mistress."

"It's alright. Even if it's just one wen, the officials and the victims won't think it's too little." The little beggar pointed to the Red List. "That seamstress donated only five copper coins, and she made it onto the Red List too. Whether it's a lot or a little, it's everyone's heart."

Having asked all she wanted, Lady Ming instructed someone to settle the little beggar properly and then stepped forward to join the queue.

Fengqi felt distressed. "Why must you endure the cold here, Consort? You could have gone straight into the government office."

"It's fine. I don't feel cold."

And she truly didn't. Seeing so many people gathered here, discussing how to help the victims survive the winter, she felt a sense of warmth.

Soon, it was Lady Ming's turn.

"Name."

"The Prince Xuan Mansion."

The clerk looked up in surprise, but did not bow; he merely became more respectful. "What are you donating?"

"Five thousand taels of silver."

The clerk wrote it down, "We thank the Prince Xuan Mansion for its donation."

Lady Ming turned to leave. Before mounting her carriage, she looked back and saw that the Red List, which had once been nearly empty, was now densely packed with donations. Nearby, an official held a new list, waiting for this one to be finished so it could be replaced.

Looking at the endless queue before her, Lady Ming smiled with relief for the first time since the snow disaster in Luoyang.

Upon returning to the Prince's Mansion, Lady Ming recounted everything she had seen and heard to the Princess Consort.

The Princess Consort pondered for a long time before sighing with emotion, "With such pure hearts and united will, there is no need to worry about the victims' welfare."

"Do you think our Fifth Young Mistress is truly, as the State Preceptor and the commoners say, a lucky star descended from heaven?"

Lady Ming did not know how to answer.

The Princess Consort did not need an answer; she was happy in her own right. She then called her son over and gave him a long lecture, insisting that he must treat his wife well!

Gu Ci accepted with a cold face.

In the main courtyard of Bidan Courtyard, Tang Zhao sprayed out a mouthful of water. "A lucky star? Why not just say I'm Guanyin Bodhisattva descended to earth?"

Dongmei said with a serious face, "People do indeed say that, but it doesn't have the same level of popularity as 'lucky star'."

Tang Zhao's face darkened; superstition was something to be avoided.

"I've looked into it; these words were spread by a cook from the Luoyang Prefectural Government."

A cook from the Luoyang Prefectural Government—that was practically the same as saying the Prefect himself had spread it. What was Yin Wei up to?

No matter how clever Tang Zhao was, she only had experience in the business world. When it came to officialdom, especially ancient officialdom, she was an outsider.

Unable to see through it or grasp it, Tang Zhao decided to simply ignore it.

But Gu Ci could not ignore it. "Are you saying, Brother, that Yin Wei had this spread?"

"The guards report that Yin Wei has had many rumors spread, all of them without exception favoring my sister-in-law and casting suspicion on the Duke of Wei's mansion and the An family."

"What is he trying to do?"

"I suspect he wants to secure a title or a memorial archway for my sister-in-law, or at the very least, some form of commendation or reward."

In any case, it was something that could protect Tang Zhao.

After all, this time, Tang Zhao had thoroughly offended both the Duke of Wei's mansion and the An family.

The An family was one thing, but the Duke of Wei's mansion was Tang Zhao's maternal family. What girl in this world would dare offend her own maternal family to such an extent?

It was as if she were afraid her life was going too well!

"So that's why Mother lectured me to treat her well?" Gu Ci was speechless.

"After all, you previously had a..." He swallowed the remaining three words under his brother's threatening gaze.