Chapter 488 - New Land Deeds (Part 2)

The surveying and verification work consumed considerable time. Under modern methods, problems yielded one by one, and the land map of Meiyang Village spread across the center of the command tent grew steadily clearer. Numbers and colored blocks crowded the floor—a dense configuration comprehensible only to specialists, its kaleidoscopic complexity resembling an abstract painting.

From the emerging picture, it became obvious that certain households had concealed their acreage. Numerous surveyed parcels bore no declarants whatsoever. These were undoubtedly hidden fields. Exercising caution, Wang Ruixiang personally met with Fu Buer and several village elders to inquire whether any outside landlords had purchased land within the village. The answer was negative.

Excellent, Wang Ruixiang thought, settling back in his tent. Now you shall be made examples. As for precisely which families had failed to declare, he felt no urgency to investigate. They would confess readily enough when the time came to issue land deeds.

On the appointed day, Wang Ruixiang convened a village-wide assembly on the threshing floor to distribute the new deeds in person.

The new land deeds featured a double-page certificate format with unified serial numbers. Cover and backing consisted of thick, durable cardboard. The inner pages were heavy-duty cardstock with watermarks produced at the paper mill. To sidestep the inconvenience of reissuing deeds after formal independence was declared, the documents bore only the name of the Lingao County Grain Collection Bureau, stamped with its official seal. Only the final page carried the seal of the Lingao County Magistrate—a concession to public trust while the Great Ming's banner still flew.

Beyond recording landowner, area, dimensions, and location, each deed included a scale plan drawn according to modern cartographic standards. The documents existed in triplicate: one copy for the landowner, one for the Household Office archives, one for the Grand Library.

When the distribution concluded, Wang Ruixiang made his announcement: all remaining undeclared land would be confiscated as ownerless property.

"It would be a shame to leave so much land lying fallow," he remarked, affecting indifference. "However, the county has already recruited considerable numbers of refugees from Guangdong. The ownerless parcels will be distributed to them for cultivation." He let this sink in before adding, "More than a dozen households will be settling in your village. I trust everyone will get along harmoniously."

Everyone in Lingao knew the Australians were ferrying boatload after boatload of refugees from the mainland through Bopu. Presenting this as a logical consequence—using the village's unclaimed land to settle them—was both reasonable and irrefutable.

The villagers stood stunned. Not merely those who had hidden land, but even the tenant farmers felt the blow—what a ruthless maneuver!

"Very well, deeds have been collected. Everyone may disperse."

The courtyard erupted into agitated murmuring.

"Chief! Have mercy!" A shrill scream pierced the din. A woman from one of the landlord families, hearing that all undeclared land would be seized and given to mainlanders, lost whatever composure she possessed. Heedless of her household patriarch's authority, she burst from the crowd, fell to her knees, and crawled forward to prostrate herself at Wang Ruixiang's feet.

"We lowly folk still have land we haven't declared—"

"Too late. The declaration period has closed." Wang Ruixiang's face remained impassive. "In another month, the mainland immigrants will arrive."

Pandemonium erupted. Families throughout the courtyard who had initially feigned calm now shattered utterly. They collapsed to their knees in a collective wave, pleading desperately.

Wang Ruixiang remained unmoved. He let them kneel there—young and old alike—weeping and begging. Let them cry, tear at their garments, beat their breasts. The family facing the heaviest losses stood to forfeit nearly half their holdings. Several elderly members and children fainted from the intensity of their wailing.

"I told you repeatedly: declare truthfully. Declared reclaimed land receives a deed; undeclared land is treated as ownerless even if you possess an old document." When the scene had reached its peak, Wang Ruixiang allowed a note of feigned sympathy to enter his voice. "There is nothing to be done if you refused to listen. The mainland immigrants are arriving soon. Now you come forward to say you concealed land—tell me, what am I supposed to do?"

"It was lard blinding our hearts! Please, Master, show mercy!" A dense throng knelt before him; the old men at the front had battered their foreheads against the ground until blood ran.

"Spare me the performance. If we hadn't measured, you wouldn't be here begging," Wang Ruixiang said coldly. "Perhaps you'd be snickering at home this very moment, congratulating yourselves on your cleverness."

These words struck at the heart of the matter. Those kneeling below turned ashen and found themselves unable to reply.

Wang Ruixiang cleared his throat. "If you have the courage to deceive, you must have the courage to face consequences. Stop behaving like men without spines."

"We lowly ones will never dare again!" The supplicants continued their entreaties, their foreheads striking the stone with audible thuds. Several had raised swollen, bleeding lumps.

Women in the crowd keened and sobbed. Many villagers had gathered on the threshing floor to watch—mostly ordinary farmers. Seeing the village's wealthy reduced to such wretchedness brought a grim satisfaction. Some permitted themselves smiles; others jeered from the sidelines.

Fu Buer stood among the onlookers, maintaining a neutral expression and keeping silent. Inwardly, however, he felt vindicated—this gamble had paid off. The Australian, whose rough exterior concealed considerable shrewdness, had just praised him as a "model" and made many promises. Whether those promises would be fulfilled remained uncertain, but at minimum, all his land remained intact.

He stole a glance at Fu Yizhuang, eldest son of Fu Yousan. The young man was drenched in nervous sweat. The Fu Yousan household had held their silence and made no confession. They remained convinced the farmstead's location was hidden and that the Australians hadn't discovered it. But confronted with this spectacle, Fu Yizhuang's confidence crumbled. The torment was unbearable. Silently, he cursed his father—always the one hatching schemes, but when confrontation came, always hiding himself and sending others to the front.

"Very well," Wang Ruixiang said at last, observing that foreheads were swollen from kowtowing and the assembly teetered on the verge of collective collapse. He finally relented. "Seeing how pitifully you plead, I will offer everyone a path forward."

"Thank you, Chief—" They moved to kowtow again.

"Save your gratitude." Wang Ruixiang's smile was thin and cold. "If any of you exposes another household in this village that failed to declare honestly, I will grant you an opportunity for leniency."

Silence fell across the courtyard. Every gaze swung toward Fu Yizhuang. Everyone in the village knew the Fu Yousan family possessed far more land than they had reported.

Wang Ruixiang followed the collective stare. Fu Yizhuang felt the weight of their attention like needles against his spine. His legs trembled; he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for mercy. He forced himself to maintain composure, reassuring himself silently: No matter how capable these Australians may be, they lack clairvoyance and supernatural hearing. Even the villagers cannot articulate the farmstead's precise location. What is there to fear? Even if someone wished to inform, they would be unable to describe where the land actually lies.

"The Fu Yousan family has considerable holdings." At last, someone concealed in the crowd spoke in an undertone.

Those kneeling seized upon this as if grasping a lifeline. They transformed into vicious dogs, scrambling to their feet, eager to tear at the Fu Yousan household. Men, women, and elderly alike shouted vehemently: "The Fu Yousan family has undeclared land!"

The accusation rose into a wave that crashed against Fu Yizhuang. His face went pale. Watching these same people—who mere moments ago had been kneeling and begging for mercy—abandon kinship, clan loyalty, and neighborly bonds to betray his family without hesitation filled him with such fury he nearly vomited blood.

He forced himself to maintain composure. Chief Wang's gaze had fixed upon him. Steeling himself, he answered:

"My family's land has all been declared. There is no concealment."

"He's lying!" A woman shrieked. "That miser Fu Yousan is the greatest hoarder of wealth. His family has piles of grain they cannot finish eating. He buys land every year—there must be other holdings!" Her words ignited a frenzy of agreement.

Wang Ruixiang raised a hand for silence, then beckoned Fu Yizhuang forward. "Does your family truly have no additional land?"

"Truly, none." Fu Yizhuang committed himself to brazenness.

"None in other villages either?"

"My family's holdings are modest. We cannot manage land purchased in other villages."

"Don't you have brothers? Where are your brothers?" Wang Ruixiang inquired.

Fu Yizhuang started. He hadn't expected the Australians to possess such detailed knowledge of his family. On reflection, Fu Buer must have informed them.

"Erzhuang went to visit his wife's maiden family."

"Hmm." Wang Ruixiang studied him for a long moment. "And your father?"

"He—he is unwell—"

"Unwell again? Remarkable how conveniently he falls ill, and always at precisely the right moment." Wang Ruixiang's smile carried no warmth. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Wouldn't you say?"

"Y-yes—" Fu Yizhuang was caught entirely off guard.

"Your family possesses undeclared land." Wang Ruixiang spat on the ground. "You and your father believe we cannot find that place. Am I correct?"

"I wouldn't dare, wouldn't dare presume—" Fu Yizhuang stammered, trembling uncontrollably.

"I'll tell you plainly now," Wang Ruixiang announced, sweeping his gaze across the assembled crowd, "nothing escapes our eyes!" He turned back to Fu Yizhuang's quaking form. "Go home and inform your father: we have no need of torture. Within three days, we will know precisely how much land your family holds. When that time comes, your household will pay double."

Fu Yizhuang wanted desperately to confess, but the thought of his father's inevitable reaction stopped him. Fu Yousan would never believe any explanation—the blame would fall squarely on him. He feared his father as a mouse fears a cat. Even knowing the gravity of the consequences, he dared not defy Fu Yousan's decree.

"Chief, I cannot make decisions for the family." Fu Yizhuang was in turmoil, practically begging. "Please forgive me! Forgive me!"

"Useless!" Wang Ruixiang eyed him with contempt. "A man past thirty, taking no responsibility for his own household affairs!"

Fu Yizhuang seethed inwardly. Dare I take responsibility in this family? Fu Yousan maintained an iron grip on everything. Though he was the eldest son, his father ordered him about like a common laborer. Naturally, he could voice none of this. He simply lowered his head and maintained his silence, determined to say nothing even under threat of death.

(End of Chapter)