Chapter 15

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Dark clouds hung low, casting an oppressive weight over the land that made every breath feel stifling. In the distance, lightning flickered intermittently, illuminating the thick, heavy layers of clouds. The moisture condensed in the air pressed down heavily; everyone could sense it—the downpour was imminent, and the threat of the levee breaking was close at hand.

Far off, the river churned and roared, its murky waters swirling with sediment as they surged forward. On the embankment, crowds of people swarmed like ants, shouting and gasping in a chaotic symphony of urgency.

"Pile the sandbags higher on the left side! The base there is too thin—do not leave any gaps!"

"Someone! We're running low on sandbags—quick—"

Voices rang out loudly in the dim pre-rain gloom.

Yet atop the highest point of the embankment, a subtle silence was maintained. This was the river’s bend, the area of greatest stress along the entire levee. Though the foundation here was relatively stable, years of water erosion meant that a sudden rise in water level would make this the first place to cry for help.

Chu Yingzhao stood there, speaking quietly with Bai Wenqing behind her, exchanging views and assessments. The wind carried the mist and scattered her hair wildly; her black and crimson garments clung to her slender frame, making her silhouette seem all the more fragile.

“Upstream reports say the levee collapse is worse than expected; the flood peak will be fiercer,” Bai Wenqing said, wiping water from his temple and squinting slightly. “The rain should start within an hour at most. When the flood strikes, this section of the levee... it’s hard to say.”

Chu Yingzhao remained silent, rapidly constructing a mental map of the terrain’s interaction with the river flow. Upstream rainfall, the steepness of the land, sediment accumulation, even changes in riverbed width—all flickered through her mind as a series of data points.

At the same time, her fingers moved swiftly over a roughly drawn map on silk, tracing precise arcs before circling several key points.

“Here, here, and here,” she said in a low, steady voice, enunciating clearly and with undeniable authority. “These are the weakest points of the levee. If any break, the entire downstream area will become a vast swamp.”

She marked the map with a brush stained with muddy water as she spoke.

“The third and seventh sections of the embankment bear the greatest pressure. Gather all sandbags and wooden stakes, and allocate manpower to reinforce them.”

“Form three teams from healthy laborers; each team is responsible for one key point to ensure even distribution of force along the levee.”

“At the low-lying eastern area, immediately assign personnel to dig diversion channels and prepare for early drainage.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard commander acknowledged, hastening down the embankment to relay the Empress’s commands.

“Your Majesty!” Qi Wangzhu hurried over. “It’s too dangerous for you to stand here! This spot is near the main current’s impact zone—if the water level rises further—”

“It won’t rise that fast,” Chu Yingzhao replied calmly without turning. “This ground is higher, though treacherous, it can still hold, and offers the clearest view of the water level and levee conditions. Now is not the time to dwell on that. Why have you come?”

“To discuss diversion,” Qi Wangzhu hesitated. “The planned diversion points are all farmland; diverting floodwaters there will surely cause significant losses…”

“Merely material losses. That’s the least we can bear right now,” Chu Yingzhao said without hesitation.

Qi Wangzhu paused, seeming reluctant, then added after a moment, “Your Majesty, that farmland belongs to Lord Liu’s private estate.”

“Liu Qianzheng?” The Empress finally lifted her gaze from the map to look at him. “The Chancellor who has been on sick leave due to ill health?”

Qi Wangzhu nodded hesitantly. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Liu Qianzheng—the current head of the Liu family, which boasts four generations of high officials. As the fourth male lead’s elder brother, he commands a reputation for coldness, rigor, and supreme authority. Beyond managing the entire Liu family, he holds numerous prestigious titles: Chancellor, Minister of Rites, Director of the National Historical Institute, Grand Master of the Palace, Minister of the Imperial Stables, Dean of the National Academy, Imperial Scholar, and former Senior Minister of the Left Spring Pavilion.

In short, a pillar of the Mu Dynasty.

Yet neither he nor his impressive titles offered any aid to the Empress in her current predicament.

“Divert the water,” she said decisively. “I will handle the subsequent arrangements.”

Qi Wangzhu glanced at her, his Adam’s apple moving as if swallowing some emotion. After a brief silence, he lowered his eyes and finally nodded.

He appeared to make a firm decision, bowing deeply. “Yes, Your Majesty. I will proceed at once.”

Meanwhile, in an unnoticed corner of the system, his favorability rating shifted once more.

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Time passed steadily, and the river’s power grew ever more violent.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as if to shake mountains; lightning flashed across the sky, casting flickering light over the river’s surface and highlighting the terrifying force of the turbulent water.

Raindrops began to fall thick and fast, shrouding the levee in mist. The wind intensified.

Sandbags and wooden stakes moved steadily toward the most perilous sections, accompanied by the continuous shouts of the workers.

The rain grew heavier, mixing mud and sweat into a slurry. Some slipped and nearly fell but scrambled back up immediately, carrying supplies without pause.

Yet bad news followed swiftly.

A rudimentary upstream sand barrier had already broken under the flood’s assault. Mud, sand, and stones were swept into the raging current like wild beasts, charging toward downstream.

Upstream officials had hesitated initially, missing the best moment to reinforce. The levee’s stress surged to its limit in an instant.

Waves slammed the embankment, shaking the soil beneath. Some already fragile sections began to reveal fine cracks.

Amid the roar of wind and rain, no one dared relax. Everyone knew that if one section collapsed first, the floodwaters would rush in like a swarm, overwhelming the entire defense line.

Suddenly, a tremendous crash came from the western side of the levee, followed by shouts: “Cracks! The levee is breaking!”

At one of the weakest points, the murky river water, carrying countless stones, battered the embankment like a hundred giant serpents, forcing apart sandbags and creating a terrifying gap in the defense.

The surging floodwaters poured through instantly. Without swift repairs, the breach would widen, eventually causing the entire levee to fail.

“The water level is rising faster than expected. It could reach the top of the embankment in half an hour!” Bai Wenqing scrambled up from one side, breathless and anxious. “This place is too dangerous—you must move!”

But Chu Yingzhao’s eyes remained steady and calm. She decided immediately: “Shadow, gather all the secret guards and attendants. Head to the western levee and use sandbags and wooden stakes to hold the breach as quickly as possible!”

“…Your safety is more important than the levee and—” Shadow hesitated for the first time instead of responding immediately.

“I order you,” Chu Yingzhao cut him off without hesitation. “Mobilize every available soldier. Anyone who falters will face military law on the spot!”

Time flew amid the thunderstorm’s roar and the anxious cries of the people.

The crack on the western levee continued to leak water. Secret guards and soldiers strained every effort to block it, but the flood’s force was relentless; every time they stacked sandbags, the rush of water knocked them down.

Mud splattered everywhere. Their clothes were torn, faces and bodies scratched by stones carried by the torrent. Blood mixed with rainwater painted a grim, brutal scene.

Chu Yingzhao looked up at the clouds and wind again. The cold wind, mixed with moisture, struck her face, strengthening her resolve:

“This storm will last until dawn, at most three hours. The levee won’t hold—has the eastern diversion channel been dug through yet?!”

That section’s earth was soft but littered with stones. The moment the shovel struck, mud gushed out. Though manned almost entirely by elite soldiers, progress was painfully slow.

Hoarse shouts rose and fell in the rain. Some slipped and fell but struggled up again, frantically digging on.

Shovels, hoes, even wooden sticks splashed mud everywhere in a chaotic yet heroic abstract dance.

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Almost at the very moment the Empress shouted her question, a deafening boom came from the excavation site—the hard sand layer had finally been pierced!

In an instant, the flood burst forth, surging with mud and sand like a wild beast breaking free, roaring as it rushed toward the low, expansive farmland!

The earth beneath their feet suddenly collapsed. Several soldiers cried out, nearly swept into the torrent, but comrades grabbed their collars just in time.

“It’s through!” someone shouted.

Everyone’s minds went blank, breaths ragged, eyes fixed on the turbid river.

Some half-kneeling, their clothes soaked and clinging to their backs, hearts pounding wildly.

The farmland, already low-lying, was swiftly swallowed by muddy waves.

Crops were uprooted, fields filled with mud and stones. In mere moments, the land became a vast swamp.

Yet because of this diversion, much of the floodwater dispersed; pressure on the main river channel dropped sharply, and the water level receded slightly, buying precious time to repair the breach.

Refugees and guards worked again in unison, desperately packing sandbags and stones into the gap, driving wooden stakes into the riverbed, then firmly binding them with iron chains.

After more than an hour of life-or-death struggle, several critical sections held without total collapse. Though cracks remained dangerous, they had at least stabilized for the time being.

Through the night, under the combined assault of darkness, wind, and rain, this heart-stopping battle against the flood raged on until dawn.

As the first faint gray light emerged behind eastern clouds, the rain finally eased.

The dark clouds remained heavy, but the once-furious flood no longer raged as before.

The main embankment held firm, without breaches or larger collapses; water levels at the diversion site gradually balanced out.

On the levee, people lay scattered everywhere—refugees, soldiers, officials—all utterly exhausted, collapsing onto muddy ground wherever they could, unable to rise again.

Some wept quietly, tears of relief after surviving disaster; some supported each other, faces muddy but smiling through the hardship.

Others lifted their heads, gazing distantly toward the high point of the embankment where a solitary figure stood.

The rain had not yet stopped. Chu Yingzhao’s hair was plastered wet against her temple, her sleeves stained with mud and blood from scratches.

A sharp stone had cut her left arm, blood seeping onto her sleeve, yet she had never taken a single step back.

She surveyed the scene, exhaled a breath of thick air, and tilted her head slightly, letting the cold raindrops beat upon her cheeks.

“Count the losses. Relief supplies must not be delayed for even a moment.”

After a brief pause, the Empress spoke again, her voice weary but still resolute:

“Tell the officials not to slacken. More rain may come. The Imperial Observatory must keep close watch on upstream conditions.”

“Bai Wenqing, Qi Wangzhu, stay here to direct and assist with follow-up matters. Zhang Yanli—”

Her gaze swept over Zhang, the warehouse supervisor—disheveled but with eyes shining brightly. She hesitated, then asked:

“If you can still hold out, come with me to court.”

Standing nearly all night, she was already drained. The countless calculations and decisions made her brain throb painfully. To still stand here meant she had a constitution stronger than ninety-nine percent of humans.

Yet now was the best moment to elevate Zhang Yanli.

Loyalty at 75, talent at 86, a minister so devoted and hardworking, sharing the same trials as the Empress through wind and rain...

What position would be fitting for someone promoted from eighth-rank warehouse supervisor?

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