Zhao Zhan looked at that stern face. Chancellor Li was his teacher, the most loyal guardian of the Myriad Ages Code, and the first lock placed on imperial power by the late Emperor Zhao Heng, who had personally promoted him.
“Do you mean,” Zhao Zhan said slowly, “that I should watch my people starve to death to uphold the law?”
“What I mean,” Chancellor Li replied without yielding, “is that Your Majesty should act in accordance with the Disaster Relief Regulations. They state that in the event of a catastrophic famine, the commandery governor may submit a request, which must be reviewed by the provincial authorities, verified by the Ministry of Revenue, and confirmed by an inspection from the Censorate. Only when all four official seals are in place may the reserve grain be released. The process is cumbersome, but every step leaves a record. It prevents corruption and abuse of power, ”
“By the time all four seals are in place, everyone will be dead!” Zhao Zhan finally lost his temper, his voice rising sharply.
Every official in the hall lowered his head in unison.
In the suffocating silence, a mild voice suddenly spoke up.
“Your Majesty, Chancellor Li, may I offer a suggestion?”
Deputy Privy Councilor Chen Ping stepped forward. This minister, a former imperial merchant who was over forty, always wore a perfectly measured smile. Today he wore a second-rank peacock badge and a jade belt, and spoke with unhurried calm.
“What solution do you propose, Lord Chen?” Zhao Zhan looked at him.
