Chapter 477 - Autumn Levy (Part 32)
"Isn't Delong already handling collections?" Yan Ming bristled at this encroachment on his territory.
"Delong manages the county treasury, but managing funds isn't the same as collecting taxes. When someone pays their taxes at a bank, that doesn't make the bank a tax collector."
"So you're proposing something like a tax bureau?"
"Precisely. Such an agency will need to exist sooner or later—we might as well begin with this year's grain collection." Wu De laid out his vision. The name "Grain Collection Bureau" was strategic: they still needed the Great Ming's official façade to lend legitimacy.
"Nominally, the Grain Collection Bureau will operate as a temporary agency under the county yamen. We'll invite Wu Ya—the County Deputy—to serve as Director-General. A figurehead, naturally. This arrangement allows us to conduct business under the yamen's authority and, when necessary, deploy 'official forces'..."
"Official forces? You mean our own people in disguise?"
"Ha, precisely." Wu De smiled. "The Grain Collection Bureau's primary mission is to assist Delong in collecting autumn grain. Meanwhile, our Leadership Group will focus on surveying and re-measuring the county's land."
The work would unfold in phases. From this autumn through next spring, they would conduct a comprehensive investigation of Lingao's land ownership and grain production—laying the groundwork for the new tax system. Beginning next summer, formal implementation would begin.
The first order of business was clarifying land property rights: reissuing deeds and verifying taxable acreage. Years of manipulation by the Household Clerk had rendered the fish-scale registers a fiction—the records bore little resemblance to actual ownership.
Second came the clearing of hidden land: properties concealed through "false registrations" or various schemes to escape taxation.
Finally, they would assess the fertility, cultivation practices, and harvest yields of each parcel—essential data for setting fair tax rates.
"...This will require the Agricultural Committee's assistance. I've already spoken with Wu Nanhai. He'll assign personnel with agricultural expertise to serve as consultants during the land surveys. Once we've gathered thorough data, we can design new tax rates and collection methods."
"So the Household Office becomes obsolete after this."
"Essentially, yes. Future duties will be limited to routine administrative paperwork, though we may retain some personnel for specialized tasks."
"Clearing the hidden land will face enormous resistance. The gentry and grain households will react violently."
"Their passion should be well exhausted after this incident. Even if they stir up trouble, we now know how to handle them."
The greatest dividend from this affair was insight. They now understood how the gentry and major households would react, the limits of their capabilities, and which individuals harbored the fiercest opposition. Though Chen Minggang's "land survey" had been a vehicle for corruption, it had inadvertently provided Wu De and his colleagues a preview of local resistance patterns.
The Grain Collection Bureau plunged into the grueling work of organizing account books. Grain runners from the study class, along with Household Office personnel who had "demonstrated good behavior," were assigned to assist. Under Sun Xiao's direction, all records were re-entered using modern accounting formats.
Re-registering the fish-scale registers proved herculean. Yu Eshui had boasted confidently, but once the actual documents were in hand, he found himself overwhelmed. Classical Chinese specialists and literate employees had to be recruited. Fortunately, Zhou Qi—who had served under Chen Minggang for nearly two decades—helped decipher the cryptic entries and land maps.
Using this working ledger, cross-referenced against collection records, each household's payment history was verified. New "grain notices" were then issued according to the principle of refunding overpayments and collecting shortfalls.
"The silver that Chen Minggang's gang extorted under the guise of 'land surveying'—we need a thorough accounting." Wu De examined the newly transcribed ledger of bribes. "How much Chen Minggang pocketed personally, how much each subordinate received—every coin must be traced!"
"Is that really necessary? Their assets all belong to us now anyway..."
"No. After investigation, all these bribes must be returned."
"Is that wise?" Sun Xiao was taken aback. "These were bribes willingly paid to Chen Minggang's gang. One party offered, the other accepted. Even under modern law, there's no provision for returning bribe money."
"Pay attention." Wu De shook his head. "These bribes were specifically connected to the land survey. We need to draw a clear line of separation."
Wu De intended the refunds to send an unmistakable message: the land survey would proceed. Bribes could not buy exemption.
"This really seems like an unnecessary gesture." Sun Xiao winced at the thought of parting with the money.
"A small sacrifice." Wu De was unmoved. "Establishing proper rules for these grain households—that's what truly matters."
News of the upheaval at the county yamen gradually filtered down to commoners and gentry alike. The sudden changes, the citywide lockdown, the palpable atmosphere of fear from the mass arrests—all of it had set nerves on edge throughout the city and surrounding countryside. But when daily life continued uninterrupted and the same flags still flew above the city gates, tension slowly ebbed. Apart from many unfamiliar faces, the yamen operated as before. The busy farming season meant the magistrate wasn't hearing cases—by custom, complaints went unheard and court was adjourned. Yet Magistrate Wu still made his ceremonial rounds in his sedan chair, touring the countryside to "inspect typhoon and flood prevention work."
Huang Binkun, who had been the most active agitator in recent weeks, now found himself adrift in bewildered impotence. By all rights, he should be celebrating. His tireless lobbying had seemingly thwarted the Australians' scheme to use clerks for county grain collection. Now collection was suspended, and Chen Minggang's entire network of grain runners had been swept away. The gentry and grain households had finally vented their fury.
Yet even now, he couldn't determine whether his efforts had achieved this result—or whether the Baldies had intended this all along.
If the goal was controlling the yamen, why had they left the county's officials untouched while purging every clerk who actually administered its affairs? Clerks might be despised, yet without them, no one could govern the county. Surely the Baldies understood this?
Seeking to divine their true intentions, he attempted to gather information through his yamen connections. The Huang family had always maintained excellent relations there—plenty of acquaintances were willing to accept Huang silver. But this institution, where any secret could once be purchased, had become an impenetrable fortress. Not a whisper of useful intelligence leaked out. The few remaining familiar faces saw Huang Binkun approaching with questions and fell silent, firmly refusing even his silver. Such behavior was practically the sun rising in the west.
Left with no alternatives, he found himself frequenting the proclamation wall by the yamen entrance, checking for new notices.
The weathered, rain-faded wall now displayed several crisp announcements. A crowd had gathered to read them. Huang Binkun's spirits lifted, and he hurried over.
Seeing his scholar's attire, someone called from behind:
"Scholar! Help us read it!"
Huang Binkun read aloud as he scanned. The first notice announced the establishment of the Grain Collection Bureau. It denounced at length the various abuses of using grain runners for past collections and declared that henceforth, the practice of the Household Office employing private grain runners was abolished. A specialized agency—the Grain Collection Bureau—would now handle these matters.
"Grain Collection Bureau—is that a new office?"
"Quiet! Let him continue."
Pressed by the crowd, Huang Binkun had no time to ponder the implications. He began reading the second announcement.
This one was peculiar: it concerned the agency management of the county treasury. Henceforth, all deposits and withdrawals would be handled by Delong Grain Trading Company.
Huang Binkun's experience was limited; for a moment, he stood dumbfounded. Could a county treasury really be "managed" this way?
The commoners also struggled to grasp what "treasury agency" meant. Everyone knew Delong Grain Trading Company—that large grain establishment at East Gate Market. Fully-loaded ox-carts came and went daily, an impressive display of prosperity. The circulation coupons most useful for purchasing goods at East Gate Market were issued by this very firm.
While everyone buzzed with discussion, Huang Binkun slipped away amid the confusion. Though he didn't fully understand how the treasury would be "managed," the notice's meaning was clear: all monetary and grain transactions for the county yamen would flow through Delong.
Connecting this with the Grain Collection Bureau, the picture crystallized. The Baldies were seizing control of the county's fiscal power! The Household Office would be stripped of all real authority—grain collection would become the business of the Australian-controlled Grain Collection Bureau. This so-called Bureau was clearly the Australians' creature.
Truly pressing forward step by step. Huang Binkun thought: the Baldies were no longer content to merely influence county administration from outside its walls—they were openly and directly inserting themselves into its operations.
He wandered toward the side of the county yamen. This area had formerly been where the county's clerks congregated—runners who worked at the yamen mostly lived here. Perhaps he could glean something from their women and children.
But the alley entrance was empty and deserted, the wooden gate barrier closed. A militia guard from the Militia Squad stood at the entrance, holding a wooden staff. This was new. Huang Binkun found it strange. He was about to inquire when the guard shouted: "What do you want?"
The accent was definitely not local. This startled Huang Binkun. To his knowledge, the county's militiamen were all locals—the position exempted one from corvée and taxes, making it a prize beyond outsiders' reach.
Studying the man's stance and the stubble of cropped hair visible beneath his cap, Huang Binkun recognized him immediately—a "fake Baldy"! Most likely one of those militia soldiers they had organized.
Huang Binkun explained he was looking for someone, but regardless of what he said, he was refused entry. The guard clearly considered this distinguished xiucai unworthy of respect. Beyond repeating "No passage allowed," he said nothing.
Huang Binkun pulled a string of copper coins from his sleeve and pressed them forward: "Friend, be a good fellow and accommodate me!"
"I don't take money." The militia guard shoved his hand back forcefully—had Huang Binkun lacked some martial training, he would likely have landed on his backside.
"Ungrateful wretch!" he cursed inwardly, slinking away in embarrassment as he pocketed the coins.
(End of Chapter)