บท 20: Chapter 20 Autumn Tax Part 1
Back home, Liang Qu cleaned out the rice bin, boiled some hot water, poured it into the bin, and stirred it around. After checking the water temperature, he jumped in, lathered up with soap, and had a thoroughly enjoyable bath.
He often went swimming, but without soap, he always felt like something was missing. At the age of fifteen or sixteen, with a fast metabolism, his hair was always greasy. Sweating from practicing martial arts all day long didn't give him that refreshing and brisk feeling.
During this time, Liang Qu discovered a clever use for the flow of water—he would soap up, rinse off with a part of the water flow, and let the water drain away, which meant he didn't need to change the water at all.
At night, Liang Qu laid out his newly purchased mat and slept comfortably and soundly.
For the next several days, Liang Qu went out boating, practicing his martial arts on the boat, while Fatty fished, and then they would return in the evening, pretending to have fished all day. Meanwhile, he began to increase the appearance of expensive fish breeds and saved another six pieces of silver.
Perhaps because he slept well, he found himself more energized during training and his efficiency noticeably improved.
"Ah, the damn weather is getting colder."
Today, Liang Qu held his quilt, not wanting to get out of bed, wishing to sleep in a little longer.
Reality and novels really are different. In the past, one could always see certain protagonists tirelessly cultivating all day long, treating it like meals, but the reality is that unless one is a robot, it's simply not possible to keep going non-stop. Managing to train for three hours in a row is already remarkable, any longer and a person would collapse.
"Collecting the autumn tax, collecting the autumn tax, everyone, hurry to the wharf to deliver the grain!"
Just when Liang Qu was thinking of sleeping in a little longer, he heard someone shouting outside and got a start.
The date for the autumn tax was not fixed, it was only within a few days, and the exact day depended on the official.
He quickly put on his clothes and went out, finding that every family had begun moving their grain to the wharf.
"Damn it, wouldn't it be better to pay with silver instead of polished rice? Over two hundred pounds that I have to carry by myself."
Unfortunately, he could only complain privately. The work that needed to be done still had to be done.
The more than a hundred pounds of rice couldn't be moved in one trip, nor was it easy to carry, but fortunately, when he arrived at the wharf, he saw Li Libo's family. Liang Qu asked them to keep an eye on his grain while he ran back for another trip to finish carrying it.
"How's it going, what have you learned at the Martial Arts School recently?"
Li Libo sighed, "Alas, I just finished learning Ape Fist and started on Tiger Fist, only just catching up to you."
Liang Qu patted his shoulder, not knowing quite how to console him.
"By the way, why haven't you been there these past few days?"
"Isn't it because of the autumn tax? I don't have anyone to help out."
"Oh."
"Ashui, my boy is slow, you have to help him more." The old man standing to the side spoke up; it was Li Libo's father, Li Dakang. He had heard about Liang Qu having good potential and also about how Liang Qu had beaten the Wang brothers to a pulp a few days earlier.
"Certainly, certainly."
Liang Qu felt that the scene before him was strangely similar to when he was going to school in his previous life. Indeed, the heart of a parent is a pitiful thing the world over.
"Next! Chen Jiechang!"
In front of the wharf, the Village Head, holding the household register, called out names one by one. Beside him, the head of household and the village scribe sat upright at a table, recording with their writing brushes, while a Minor Official kicked the official bushel measure of grain. Each kick would cause the perfectly level heap of grain to lose some, spilling out a bit, which was alarming to watch.
And then a young wit tried to pick up some of the spilled grain, but he was loudly scolded by an official, "Don't pick that up, it's loss! Hey, I'm talking to you, stop picking!"
The official then kicked the man on the ground and sent him sprawling.
This was the notorious "sprinkling tip kick." The grain pile must be arranged in a conical shape, with some of it protruding beyond the edge of the bushel. When the official kicks it, a substantial amount of grain is lost, and the shortfall must be made up by the common people.
To put it bluntly, it's difficult to define exactly how much loss there will be. There are various risks involved in transportation, and the "sprinkling tip kick" is the officials' way of shifting the transportation risk to the common people. If the transportation losses are small, they skim off the top, so the more they can kick away, the better.
"It looks tough this year, but thankfully, we've prepared extra." Li Libo said with lingering fear, then sighed, "If only I could become a martial master, not only would I not have to pay taxes, but I would also get money, almost as prestigious as being a Juren Master, impressive!"
"Pingyang Town collected taxes yesterday, Ashui, you didn't see it--a few martial artists came by, and those officials didn't dare to kick, grinning so wide their wrinkles showed..."
Li Libo was making a sly joke, but before he could finish, his father kicked him hard, "You kid, what nonsense are you spouting? Shut your mouth!"
Li Libo's face fell, and he fell silent.
The long line moved forward slowly, and from time to time, someone couldn't produce the tax and would be left kneeling and wailing. Yet the only outcome for them was to get whipped and dragged aside, ultimately being conscripted for corvée labor.
Liang Qu watched this cruel scene helplessly. All he had was six silver coins and a stone and a half of rice, so he could only wait quietly in line, swiftly handing over the rice when it was his turn, then watching the official step on it and create a deficit, before going back to fetch more rice to make up for it.
Liang Qu wasn't foolish enough to bring over the full two hundred catties of rice he had prepared. As soon as he saw a shortfall, he would immediately make up for it, knowing that doing so wouldn't earn him praise from the officials for being efficient but would only encourage them to be more aggressive.
Once the collection was complete, Liang Qu saw the Village Head make a check on the register and finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, the officials hadn't been heartless enough to include his deceased "father" in the count, who had been gone for less than two months. Had they wanted to, they could definitely have pulled such a move.
Liang Qu packed up his cloth bag and walked back against the crowd. But before he had gotten halfway, he heard the cries for mercy from behind, followed by the terrifying sound of a whip cracking.
"Damn it, you're smearing snot all over my leg!"
Initially, Liang Qu thought it was just another poor soul unable to pay the tax, but when he turned around, he was surprised to find that the person who had been whipped was none other than Chen Qingjiang's father, Chen Renxing!
What was going on? Hadn't he seen Uncle Chen bringing grain earlier? The amount should have been enough!
Something wasn't right. Liang Qu quickly pulled Li Libo: "Li brother, go to my house and fetch the remaining three dou of rice."
Li Libo was very surprised but understood it was not the time to ask questions. He bowed his head and hastily walked out of the crowd.
At that moment, Chen Qingjiang was protecting his father, pleading with the official to give them more time.
"We truly didn't mean to evade the taxes; it's just that we can't. Not long ago, my young son caught a cold. To pay for his treatment, we have exhausted all our savings. Moreover, my son is only just over six years old, not yet seven!"
It turns out Chen Qingjiang hadn't failed to bring enough taxable grain. His family of five, with two adult men, one woman, and two young children, was required to pay two shi and six dou of rice.
But the official was particularly ruthless in his measurement, creating a seven-dou shortfall. And that wasn't all; he also maliciously counted Chen Qingjiang's just over six-year-old son as seven years old!
At seven years old, a boy reaches the threshold for paying tax!
However, since he was young, his share wasn't as large as an adult's, only requiring three dou. But with this assessment, the deficit neared a full shi of rice!
Chen Qingjiang had anticipated some shortfall and prepared three dou, but with seven dou missing, it was impossible to make up the difference.
The official scoffed, "Are you saying I've wronged you?"
"Far from it. I only beg the lord to grant us more time, and we'll certainly make up the difference," Chen Qingjiang knelt on the ground, bowing his head in begging, while his six-year-old Chen Shun began to cry loudly.
The onlookers were as silent as cicadas in winter, none daring to speak up or offer assistance.
After all, we're talking about seven dou of rice!
Converted into Copper Coins, that's over seven hundred wen. Which household would be generous enough to give away that much?
The child's wailing annoyed the official, "What can I do if you don't pay the tax? But it's not a big deal, Lanzhou needs laborers for canal digging..."
Liang Qu's heart raced with fear—digging canals could cost countless lives. Who knows if anyone would return once sent there?
Just as Chen Shun's crying displeased the official and he was about to lash out again with his whip,
Liang Qu rushed over and pulled Little Shunzi behind him, rubbing his hands and bowing his head with a placating smile, "Official Master, please calm your anger. Uncle Chen was confused, forgetting there was still rice at home. I will fetch it for you right away."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Li Libo came running, shouting for people to move aside. He carried a bag of rice on his shoulder, pouring it into the measure and it was precisely three dou.
The official sneered, "Just three dou, and there are still four dou missing."
Liang Qu took out the six silver coins he had scraped together and said apologetically with a smile, "I'm really out of options. I've been too busy to buy rice recently, so please accept these six silver coins as a humble offering."
There was hardly any shortfall to begin with; it was just an excuse for greed. With the six silver coins, one could buy six or seven dou of rice. In total, nine dou, which would still be two dou more than required.
The official weighed the coins discreetly and accepted them, commenting flatly, "Alright, but don't let this happen again."
"Yes, yes, many thanks to the Official Master."
Liang Qu wiped the sweat from his brow, hurriedly helped Chen Qingjiang support his father, and took Little Shunzi by the hand to leave, under the watchful eye of the official.
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