Autumn Tax, Part Two

Autumn Tax, Part Two

After returning home, Liang Qu cleared out the rice vat, heated some water, poured it into the vat and stirred it around. Once he confirmed the temperature, he jumped in, soaped himself up, and enjoyed a thorough bath.

He went into the water often enough, but without soap, it always felt as though something were missing. At fifteen or sixteen, his metabolism was at its peak; his hair was constantly oily, and with all the sweating from training martial arts, he never felt properly fresh and clean.

While bathing, Liang Qu also discovered another use for his water flow. After soaping up, he could control part of the current to rinse himself clean and let the water flow away, without needing to change the bathwater at all.

That night, Liang Qu laid out the newly bought mattress and slept comfortably through the night.

For the next several days, Liang Qu took the boat out, practiced on board while A Fei went fishing, then returned at dusk, pretending he had spent the whole day fishing. He also began bringing back more expensive kinds of fish, saving up another six qian of silver.

Perhaps because he had been sleeping well, he had more energy for training, and his efficiency noticeably improved.

"Damn weather. It's getting colder and colder."

That day, Liang Qu hugged his blanket and did not want to crawl out from under the covers. He only wanted to go back to sleep.

Reality truly differed from novels. He had always seen protagonists who trained tirelessly day and night as though cultivation were their daily bread, but in reality, unless one was a machine, no one could keep turning without rest. Training continuously for three shichen was already impressive; any longer, and a person would collapse.

"Autumn tax collection! Autumn tax collection! Everyone, hurry to the wharf and pay your grain!"

Just as Liang Qu was about to go back to sleep, he heard someone shouting outside and jolted awake.

The date for autumn tax collection was never fixed, only falling somewhere within a few days. The exact day depended entirely on the clerks.

He hurriedly got dressed and went outside, finding every household beginning to carry grain toward the wharf.

"Damn it, wouldn't paying in silver be better? They insist on fine rice, and I have to haul over two hundred jin myself."

Unfortunately, he could only grumble in private. What had to be done still had to be done.

More than a hundred jin of rice could not be moved in one trip, and it was not easy to carry either. Fortunately, Liang Qu spotted Li LiBo's family at the wharf, so he asked them to keep an eye on the grain before running back for another load.

"How's it going? How far have you gotten at the Martial Arts School lately?"

Li LiBo sighed. "Ah, I just finished Ape Fist and started learning Tiger Fist. I've only just caught up with you."

Liang Qu patted his shoulder, not knowing how to comfort him.

"By the way, why haven't you gone these past few days?"

"Isn't it because I've been busy with the autumn tax? I don't have anyone to help me manage these things."

"Oh."

"A Shui, my boy's slow-witted. You have to help him more." The old man standing beside them spoke. He was Li LiBo's father, Li Dakang. He had heard Li LiBo mention Liang Qu's excellent Root Bone, and had also heard that Liang Qu had beaten the Wang Family Brothers until they were rolling and crawling in misery a few days ago.

"Of course, of course."

Liang Qu felt that the scene before him oddly resembled his school days in his previous life. Truly, parents' hearts were pitiable everywhere under heaven.

"Next! Chen Jiechang!"

At the wharf, the Village Head called names one by one from the household register. Beside him, the household head and Village Secretary sat upright at a table, recording with writing brushes. Nearby, minor clerks kicked the Official Peck used to measure grain. Each kick sent some of the leveled rice spilling out, scattering it about, making everyone's hearts pound in alarm.

Some hotheaded youths tried to pick up the rice from the ground, only to be loudly rebuked by the clerks. "Don't pick it up! That's loss! Hey, I'm talking to you! Still picking it up?"

The official kicked the man on the ground, sending him sprawling onto his back.

This was the infamous Pouring Excess and Kicking the Peck. Grain had to be piled into a pointed heap, leaving part of it above the peck's rim. Then came a kick, knocking out a considerable amount of rice. Afterward, the missing amount still had to be made up by the common people.

Put plainly, losses were difficult to quantify. There were all kinds of risks in transport, and Pouring Excess and Kicking the Peck was how officials shifted those transport risks onto the people. If the actual losses were small, they pocketed the difference, so the more they kicked out, the better.

"This year looks hard to deal with. Good thing we prepared extra." Li LiBo still felt lingering fear, then sighed. "If only I could become a Martial Master. Not only would I have a tax-exempt quota, I could even earn money. I'd practically be on par with a Scholar Official—what prestige!"

"Ping Yang Town collected taxes yesterday. A Shui, you didn't see it. Several Martial Artists who had broken through went over, and those clerks didn't dare kick a thing. They smiled so hard their wrinkles spread open."

Li LiBo was secretly mocking them, but before he could finish, his father gave him a vicious kick. "You brat, how can you dare say anything at all? Shut your mouth!"

Li LiBo pulled a long face and fell silent.

The long line slowly shuffled forward. From time to time, someone unable to pay the tax would appear, kneeling and wailing. Yet the only result was being whipped and dragged aside. Their final fate would be forced labor.

Liang Qu watched the cruel scene, helpless. All his savings amounted to only six qian of silver and one and a half shi of rice. He could only wait quietly in line. When his turn came, he swiftly handed over his grain, watched the clerk kick out a substantial amount, then went back to bring more rice to make up the difference.

Liang Qu was not foolish enough to carry over all two hundred-odd jin of rice he had prepared in advance. If he saw a shortage and immediately filled it, the officials would not praise him for being efficient. They would only push their luck further.

Once it was done, Liang Qu saw the Village Head make a checkmark in the register and finally let out a breath.

Fortunately, the clerks were not blackhearted enough to count his dead "father" as well. After all, he had been dead for less than two months. If it had been a little later, those people absolutely would have done it.

Liang Qu packed up his cloth sack and walked back against the flow of the crowd. Before he had gone halfway, however, pleading cries rang out behind him again, followed by the explosive crack of a terrifying whip.

"Damn thing, you got snot all over my leg!"

Liang Qu initially thought it was another poor man unable to pay his taxes, but when he turned around, he was shocked to discover that the person who had been whipped was Chen Qingjiang's father, Chen Renxing!

What was going on? Hadn't he seen Uncle Chen bring grain earlier? That should have been enough! Something was wrong. Liang Qu quickly tugged Li LiBo. "Brother Li, hurry to my house and get the rice. There are still three dou left."

Li LiBo was greatly surprised, but he understood that this was not the time for questions. Lowering his head, he swiftly headed out through the crowd.

At that moment, Chen Qingjiang was shielding his father and begging the clerk to grant them a few more days.

"It isn't that we don't want to pay the tax, but we truly have no way! My youngest caught a chill some days ago, and to treat his illness, the family has no savings left. Besides, my eldest is truly only six years old—he hasn't reached seven yet!"

It turned out Chen Qingjiang had not failed to bring enough tax grain. His family had five members: two men, one woman, and two children. They should have paid two shi and six dou of rice.

But the clerk had kicked especially viciously, creating a shortfall of a full seven dou. And that was not all—he had forcibly counted Chen Qingjiang's eldest son, who was over six, as seven years old! A seven-year-old male reached the threshold for taxation. Because he was young, his quota was lower than an adult's, requiring only three dou of rice, but that made the gap nearly a whole shi of rice!

Chen Qingjiang had expected there might be a shortfall, so he had prepared three extra dou of rice. But with another seven dou missing, there was no way he could make it up.

The clerk snorted coldly. "Are you saying I wronged you?"

"I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare! I only beg my lord to grant us a few more days. This humble man will definitely make it up!" Chen Qingjiang knelt on the ground and kowtowed in pleading. Six-year-old Chen Shun wailed loudly beside him.

The watching crowd was silent as cicadas in winter. No one dared speak, much less step forward to help.

That was seven dou of rice!

More than seven hundred copper coins—what family would be generous enough to take that out?

The crying child irritated the clerk. "What can I do if you can't pay the tax? But it's fine. Lan Province happens to be building a canal and needs plenty of labor."

Liang Qu's heart pounded in fear. Who knew how many would die digging a canal? Would anyone who went ever return? Seeing Chen Shun's cries further anger the clerk, who was about to bring down his whip again—

Liang Qu rushed over and pulled Xiao Shunzi behind him, rubbing his hands as he lowered his head with an ingratiating smile. "Please calm your anger, sir. Uncle Chen was muddleheaded and forgot there was still rice at home. We'll fetch it for you right away."

The words had barely left his mouth when Li LiBo came running over, shouting for people to make way. He carried a sack of rice on his shoulder and poured it into the peck—exactly three dou.

The clerk sneered. "Only three dou? What about the other four?"

Liang Qu took out the six qian of silver he had just saved, smiling apologetically. "There really is no other way. We've been too busy lately and had no time to buy rice. Please accept these six qian of silver as a token of respect."

There had not been much of a shortfall to begin with; it was merely an excuse for greed. Six qian of silver could easily buy six or seven dou of rice. Together with the three dou, that made nine dou—two dou more than needed.

The clerk weighed it in his hand and accepted it without changing expression. "Fine. Let this be the last time."

"Yes, yes. Thank you, sir."

Liang Qu wiped away his sweat, quickly helped Chen Qingjiang support his father, then took Xiao Shunzi's hand and left beneath the clerk's watchful gaze.