Summer tax

On the second day after Su Yan returned from the Market Ward, Old Zheng, the village head, went from one end of the village to the other, banging a gong.

Each time the gong rang, the little old man called out, "The town's revenue officer will be here tomorrow to collect the summer tax. Every household should stay home and have silver ready for registration. Pay your summer tax, and don't miss the appointed time."

With Old Zheng's announcement, the villagers simply decided not to go out. It was one of the rare occasions when nearly everyone was in the village.

When Su Yan heard this, he gave up his plans to forage in the mountains as well.

He absorbed the wisp of insect essence the Darkwater Centipede had condensed that day, then began practicing the Golden Ape Stance Art in his courtyard.

In the past, Su Yan's rapid rise in wealth, with gains from both foraging and hunting, would have drawn plenty of watchful eyes.

Now, however, no one dared bother him. They had even grown somewhat afraid of him.

A young man had carried a tiger through the market.

Such a display showed more than swagger. It showed strength.

Besides wanting to dispose of the tiger meat quickly, he had made such a spectacle of himself to establish his authority.

He wanted everyone in the surrounding villages to know that Su Yan was not to be trifled with, and that they should leave him alone.

And so Su Yan's fearsome reputation had spread, and no one dared disturb him.

As his body rose and fell through the Golden Ape Stance Art, a thread of insect essence spread into the skin and muscles throughout his body.

His breathing was long and steady, reaching deep into his lungs and driving his blood and qi to surge like a mighty tide.

Suddenly, his eyes opened. His mind was clear, and the Stance Training seemed to have fused into his very bones.

He stepped forward, leaving a small hollow in the ground, then began moving with the shifting agility of an ape.

He performed a full set of Monkey Fist, all eight forms with their many variations. His blood and qi surged, turning his skin and flesh red.

Yet even as he moved like this, fifty or sixty percent of the stance art's effects remained active, continually tempering his blood and qi.

Su Yan practiced again and again, from the time the sun rose above the treetops until noon, when its scorching heat felt like a furnace.

Sweat soaked his short tunic, making it cling to his body and reveal the sharply defined contours of his muscles.

Ordinary people have to wait for a spark of insight, and they can't afford any mistakes. But I'm different...

Su Yan kept throwing punches. In his mind, the eight forms of Monkey Fist shifted like images in a revolving lantern, gradually coming together with the Golden Ape Stance Art.

Right is right, and wrong is wrong. I can see every move and every variation perfectly clearly. This comparison is even more meticulous than the guidance of a renowned master. With this, I can master the stance art!

He drove a heavy punch down. The muscles and bones of his back and arm rang out together, and its force was thirty percent greater than usual.

Combining the Stance Training with his Fist Technique and practicing it in motion could actually increase the power of his attacks.

[Golden Ape Stance Art: 41/200 (minor mastery)]

[Monkey Fist: 12/200 (minor mastery)]

Su Yan settled his breathing, went indoors, and drank the ginseng soup he had been simmering to supply his body with more energy.

Martial training required a balance of exertion and rest. Not only did the worked body need time to recover, but more importantly, its energy had to be replenished.

If Su Yan wanted to improve faster, he would have to put more effort into nourishment.

Insect Essence, precious medicinal herbs, wild beast meat... only by supplying the energy his body needed could he keep training and increasing his strength.

He rested until afternoon, then practiced the Stance Training for a while longer. This time, rather than throwing punches, he walked, keeping his steps and movements as ordinary as anyone else's.

Training this way proved even harder.

Several times, the Stance Training faltered, forcing him to find the right feeling all over again.

After finishing his stance practice, he found an open patch of ground in the village and practiced drawing his bow and shooting arrows. Only when the moon rose above the treetops did he finally stop to rest.

After he had carried the tiger through the market, word of his martial training had spread. Naturally, he no longer needed to hide his archery practice.

Early the next morning, Old Zheng gathered the village's households at the grain-drying ground.

He counted everyone first, then had them wait together.

They waited for about an hour after the sun rose above the treetops before a clamor finally sounded outside the village.

The old village head ushered a group inside with an ingratiating smile, his stooped back bent even lower.

"Revenue Officer, all the households of Yunqian Village are waiting at the grain-drying ground."

"Good. At least your Yunqian Village doesn't have all those other messy affairs."

The revenue officer was a fair-faced, bearded man of about forty, dressed in a dark blue-black robe. Two clerks followed him, each carrying a register, along with seven or eight laborers.

Beside him were three or four constables in indigo martial uniforms, each with a Broad Saber at his waist.

Their leader was a chief constable, tall and powerfully built, with hawklike eyes, bulging temples, and a stern face. He was a trained martial artist.

"Chief Constable Xu, sorry for the trouble, but please keep an eye on order here."

Fang Xueyun cupped his hands toward Chief Constable Xu Guan, his manner quite courteous.

Their official positions were of equal rank, but martial artists commanded respect. Moreover, a chief constable truly wielded power through the men under his command.

"Rest assured, Revenue Officer Fang."

Once everyone had taken their places, Xu Guan swept his gaze over the people of Yunqian Village. It seemed to linger briefly on Su Yan.

Then Old Zheng stepped forward. "The revenue officer and chief constable are here, so quiet down. When your name is called, come up and pay. The summer tax is eight mace, with two mace for melting loss, making one tael of silver in total. Anyone under ten doesn't count toward the head tax."

The Great Li Dynasty collected its head tax twice a year, in summer and winter. There were somewhat fewer miscellaneous taxes under other names.

This was not because the court was merciful, but because martial artists abounded, while local magnates and sects each controlled their own territories.

Every layer of exploitation demanded its share of the profits. If the Great Li Dynasty were allowed to collect all the taxes, ordinary people would already have been squeezed dry. Wouldn't everyone else be left with nothing to eat but plain rice?

Thus there were mountain fees for entering the mountains, water fees for going onto the rivers, and all manner of similar charges, each going to a different power.

Some powerful clans and sects could even dictate the affairs of an entire commandery or prefecture, beyond the court's ability to interfere.

This was what it meant for martial artists to reign supreme and share dominion over the realm.

A clerk beside Fang Xueyun stepped forward, expressionless. "Come up and pay when you hear your name. If you haven't prepared silver, you can pay in grain."

"Zheng Daqing."

The village head stepped forward and paid his silver. With his son included, his household counted as two taxable heads.

The clerk weighed the silver in his hand, checked its purity, placed it in the box they had brought, and marked the register.

The clerk called out one name after another, and the people of Yunqian Village came forward in turn to pay their taxes.

Xie Yuzhu also queued up and paid. His son, Xie Bao, was still only a half-grown boy of nine and did not yet owe any tax. Otherwise, it would have been no easy burden.

"Su Dahe, Su Yan."

"Sir, Su Dahe unfortunately fell from a cliff several months ago."

The old village head's expression shifted slightly as he quietly explained the situation to the clerk.

Hearing this, the clerk lifted his gaze a little, nodded, and crossed out Su Dahe's name. Deaths in the mountains were perfectly commonplace.

Presumably, the village head would not help anyone fake his death. That was a serious crime.

Some people cautiously looked at Su Yan's expression. His face remained composed as he stepped forward, ready to put his tax silver into the wooden box.

Suddenly, a large hand blocked his way. "No hurry. I heard you carried a tiger through the market a few days ago, young man. Did you beat it to death yourself?"

Curiosity showed in Xu Guan's eyes. Su Yan met his gaze and nodded. "I was lucky to kill it. What can I do for you, Chief Constable Xu?"

"Under the Great Li Code, martial artists do not pay the head tax. If you've reached minor mastery in skin tempering, you count as a martial artist. Have you, or haven't you?"

Xu Guan's eyes were full of curiosity, while a flicker of something unusual passed through Su Yan's.

I don't know what Xu Guan is after, but I doubt I can dodge him. I never took action in that business with Niu Han, so there's no reason to fear him. Let's see what he wants.