Emperor Chen leaned forward slightly. His eyes brightened behind the curtain of beads, and his voice softened. "It is still early, Qingzhou. Tell us in detail."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Gu Qingzhou straightened. "When I first took office, I sent veteran officials versed in river management to inspect a thousand li upstream and downstream, assess the force of the currents, and examine the foundations of the embankments. They found five breaches in the old embankments and nine weakened sections. Years of neglect had left them riddled with ant nests and rat holes; any major rise in the water would bring them down."
He held up three fingers. "Since work began last September, we have employed sixty-three thousand laborers, gathered one hundred and twenty thousand timber piles, and collected five hundred thousand bundles of brushwood and straw. Using the fascine method familiar to our craftsmen, I had reeds woven into bundles, packed with earth and stone, bound with heavy cables, and sunk into the breaches. We have now sealed all five breaches and rebuilt more than seventy li of collapsed embankment."
He spoke at a steady pace, every sentence grounded in substance, without a trace of empty, ornamental language.
Among the officials in the hall, some nodded faintly while others exchanged glances. The Huai River Flooding had been one of the court's greatest headaches for years. Two senior officials had been dispatched in succession, neither achieving any results. Yet Gu Qingzhou's account seemed to offer a glimmer of hope.
"The most critical point was the Overlord Embankment north of Sizhou. Every autumn flood overtopped it, and for more than a decade, no one could find a solution. I ordered a crescent embankment built outside the main one, curving around it protectively like a crescent moon. Even if the floodwaters battered and gnawed