"Miss, why are you blaming the authorities instead?" The day laborer said unhappily, "Though the authorities couldn't win justice back for us, that was because Feng Bancheng had troops under his command. He was also reclaiming military farmland for the Emperor. Let alone the County Magistrate, even the Prefect could do nothing about him. The authorities had already done their utmost by compensating us with official fields."
Xue Shao asked gently, "The people in the village must all be very grateful to the authorities, then?"
"Of course!" The day laborer straightened his chest. "That's why our village pays its full land tax every year, and we voluntarily pay an extra sheng of tax for every mu of land."
Xue Shao and Pan Yun both fell silent. Beside them, Xi Jin's mouth hung open, but he stopped himself from speaking.
The landlord somehow produced a bamboo tube of wine, opened it, and poured Xue Shao and Pan Yun each a bowl. Laughing heartily, he said, "Don't mind them, you two. Fools have fools' blessings. They don't resent, hate, or fret, so their hearts are at ease. Their days don't feel quite so bitter."
Pan Yun did not expose the truth either, merely asking the day laborer, "How long have you been paying it?"
"Seventeen or eighteen years, I suppose. I was still in my mother's belly back then. Every year, our village head led the men, women, old, and young of the village into the county seat to pay the grain tax, and the County Magistrate always praised our village," said the day laborer. "Compared to us, Da Chun and the others have it much worse. They have to cultivate so much land every year, and if war breaks out, they have to go to the battlefield too."
Xue Shao told