Sharing Snow

Di'an was snowing.

Goose-feather snowflakes drifted down from the pitch-black heavens, fluttering in a chaotic swirl. Overnight, they draped the entire colossal city in a coat of white. The people often said that timely snow promised a bountiful year, but the blizzards and disasters year after year had gradually turned snow into an omen of ill fortune in the north.

The first snow of Jiajing Year Forty-Seven was still falling heavily, heavy enough to obstruct travel. But Di'an was, after all, beneath the Son of Heaven's feet. Before dawn had fully passed, servants from the government offices were already riding specially inscribed beast-carts through the streets to clear the snow, their rumbling din making sleep impossible. Yet once the common people collected heating charcoal from the official distribution stalls set up throughout every district, their resentment at having their sleep disturbed vanished into thin air.

Life for Di'an's citizens continued as usual, utterly unaffected by the blizzard, but some rotten gears had already begun silently shattering in places beyond their sight.

This sudden snowfall from the skies had brought disaster-relief efforts in the Three Northern Prefectures nearly to a standstill.

Great Yan's court had originally prepared plans for postwar reconstruction in the Three Northern Prefectures, but now those plans had already fallen apart.

There were holes left behind by past corruption, parasites presently embezzling disaster-relief funds under the guise of fire-loss expenses, but more than anything, there was the war that lay ahead.

Influenced by the situation across the realm, most resources belonging to both the imperial clan and the Prime Minister's Mansion had uncontrollably tilted toward military production. The disaster-relief supplies—and even the manpower—that had once been planned were inevitably diverted toward war preparations.

Yet in such tense times, Lou Ji still set aside part of the Black Scale