Chapter 118: Overcoming the Drought

As the drought relief efforts progressed, the number of well-drilling tools produced by Mo Village and the Directorate for Palace Buildings continued to rise. With local officials organizing the able-bodied to work alongside soldiers, the pace of well-drilling accelerated dramatically.

The irrigated area of farmland expanded steadily. Parched crops greedily absorbed the hard-won moisture, and fueled by ample water and photosynthesis, they soon turned lush green, showing vigorous growth.

Every household in the Guanzhong region managed to secure a harvest for at least ten acres of land. Looking at their newly irrigated fields, the once-despondent farmers began to smile; at the very least, they had survived this year’s catastrophe.

No, it was more than just surviving this year. With these deep wells, they would no longer fear even the most severe droughts, provided the water did not run dry. Many quick-witted farmers were already making plans: once this drought passed, they would continue drilling until every remaining piece of their land had a well. If there were ever signs of another dry spell, they could irrigate day and night, perhaps even ensuring their entire permanent holdings were fully watered.

Furthermore, with a guaranteed supply of water, every annual harvest was sure to increase by over thirty percent—a predictable and welcome gain.

By this account, the drought was a blessing in disguise. Though much of the land was destined for a reduced harvest this year, the possession of these wells made the loss well worth it. The common people had their own way of weighing things; they understood the balance of profit and loss perfectly.

"Boom!"

On the twentieth day of the drought, a clap of spring thunder shook the earth of Guanzhong. A vast mass of dark clouds rolled in from the northwest, instantly enveloping the entire region. This time, the heavens did not toy with their expectations. Following a roll of thunder, large, bean-sized raindrops fell as if they were free of charge, pelting the thirsty earth. The rain poured down like a curtain, as if determined to make up for all the water it had withheld.

"Oh! It’s raining!"
"Heaven be praised, the drought is finally over!"
"The Dragon King... Bah! The Dragon King was long ago executed by His Majesty!"

"With these wells, who still believes in the Dragon King?"

The Guanzhong region erupted in joy. Great throngs of people rushed out of their homes, greedily soaking up the long-awaited rain and letting their clothes become drenched. Children played in the downpour, covering themselves in mud, yet their parents, watching with beaming faces, felt not a hint of reproach.

The drought had ended. Many felt a sense of relief; had the government not acted so promptly to combat the disaster, famine would surely have struck. Now, with the harvest from a dozen acres and at least some yield from the rest, this difficult year had been overcome.

Soldiers released the handles they had been gripping and collapsed onto the ground, letting the rain wash the mud from their bodies. The twenty-day struggle against the drought had finally concluded. Qin Huaiyu and his three companions sat on the ground, looking at each other's bedraggled states, and could not help but burst into laughter. The journey of drought relief had left a profound impact on them, a baptism of both body and soul.

"Hoeing in the midday sun, sweat dripping into the soil; who knows that the food on the plate, every grain is hard-earned." Qin Huaiyu found himself reciting the poem "Sympathy for the Peasants." Previously, they had only admired Mo Dun’s literary skill, but after this experience, they—who had never known the hardships of the common folk—truly felt the difficulty of the people's lives for the first time. The four of them finally understood that every grain they ate was precious.

Inside the Taiji Palace, Li Shimin led his court officials in watching the torrential rain outside. He finally let out a long sigh of relief; the drought had ended. Though the rain came late, it was better than not coming at all. In truth, Mo Dun believed that if not for the widespread irrigation across Guanzhong, which caused massive evaporation, it was uncertain when—or even if—this rain would have fallen at all.

"His Majesty’s virtue reaches the heavens. The drought is finally over; it is truly Heaven’s blessing upon the Great Tang!" Changsun Wuji said, his face full of joy.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty!" the officials echoed in unison.

Li Shimin laughed heartily, filled with pride, yet he spoke with feigned humility: "I cannot claim this credit. It is entirely due to the unity of the Tang’s military and people that we have overcome this disaster."

In this crisis, Li Shimin had turned a disaster into an opportunity. Not only had he found a clear path to combat drought, but he had also won the hearts of the people of Guanzhong, emerging as the greatest winner of all.

"Reporting to Your Majesty, now that the drought has been lifted, may the soldiers of the Sixteen Guards return to the capital? After all, Chang’an is left empty, and it may not be appropriate for this to continue for long," suggested Changsun Wuji.

Li Shimin pondered for a moment and nodded. "Fujin thinks of everything. I shall summon these heroes of disaster relief back to the capital, and they shall be duly rewarded for their meritorious service."

"Your Majesty is wise!" Changsun Wuji’s deep trust from Li Shimin stemmed not just from being his brother-in-law, but from his political sagacity. This simple suggestion allowed him to curry favor with the military while demonstrating his loyalty before the Emperor.

Fang Xuanling also felt a surge of joy. Among the civil officials, it was his own foolish son who had joined the army. Having been away for nearly a month doing such grueling work, he naturally felt a pang of fatherly concern.

"Your Majesty, the Sixteen Guards possess a large quantity of well-drilling tools. How shall we dispose of them?" Fang Xuanling asked.

To concentrate the strength of Guanzhong in such a short time had produced a massive amount of equipment. Now that the drought was over, the work could be done at a more measured pace, and such a surplus was no longer needed.

Li Shimin thought it over. This was indeed a dilemma. The tools had cost the imperial court a fortune in human and material resources. The mere cost of the iron had nearly emptied the Ministry of Revenue, as iron was a strategic material and extremely expensive. Yet, the tools and the pumps were of such vital importance to the Tang that, if used properly, they would fundamentally transform the empire’s agriculture.

"Leave one hundred sets of equipment in each county of Guanzhong, and have the county magistrates organize the able-bodied to continue drilling wells. Distribute the remainder evenly across the various circuits of the Tang to popularize our methods of drought relief," Li Shimin said, his heart aching at the expense. There were tens of thousands of sets, all worth real gold and silver! Still, for the sake of long-term planning, the investment was worth it.

Fang Xuanling’s eyes brightened. Popularizing the Guanzhong method—having households take turns drilling wells—would maximize the benefits for the majority of the people.

"As you command!" Fang Xuanling replied.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty! With such a miraculous tool, the Great Tang will never again fear the harm of drought," the officials cheered in unison. In the entire scope of agricultural production, the two greatest natural disasters were drought and flooding, with drought being the most frequent and destructive. Now, it would never again pose a threat to the Tang.

"Hahaha!"

Li Shimin was overcome with excitement. This was the first time in human history that a natural disaster had been conquered, and it had been achieved under his reign.