« Previous Volume 3 Index Next »

Chapter 229: The Clerk

Lingao’s commodity economy was poorly developed. With little silver in circulation, the price of silver was relatively high, while grain prices were low. Collecting taxes in silver inevitably required collecting more grain. The price difference in this exchange, though seemingly minuscule per unit, accumulated into a substantial sum.

The total taxable government land in Lingao was 1,660.98 qing. At a rate of 0.009 taels per mu, the total tax amounted to nearly 15,000 taels of silver. Although some fields were taxed at a lower rate of 0.004 taels and others were exempt, the total sum was still close to 10,000 taels. For such a small county, this additional levy was an almost unbearable burden.

Consequently, during tax season, the price of silver would soar. This was not only a huge burden on the grain-paying households but also a major headache for the county government. In the past, before the additional levies, completing the grain tax collection had been relatively easy. But since the first levy was imposed in the late Wanli era, the county government had been stretched thin, trying to collect both the grain tax and the silver levy.

What troubled Wu Mingjin and his staff the most was that Lingao was a remote place where the emperor’s authority was distant. The county government’s power was very limited. Never mind the local gentry; even ordinary, self-sufficient local squires paid taxes as they pleased, and the government could hardly question them. As for the countless acres of undeclared, privately cultivated land, it was impossible to even begin to tally.

Nevertheless, in previous years, through Wu Mingjin’s methods and Wang Zhaomin’s efforts, Lingao’s autumn tax had always been collected on time. Last year, despite the arrival of the Australians, they had not interfered with the tax collection, and the task was completed. The later implementation of the “reasonable burden” system was a separate matter that didn’t involve the county government.

This year, however, the situation was more delicate. The Australians were openly reclaiming wasteland and planting their own crops. Wang Zhaomin had a great, hidden worry.

What was this worry? It concerned the practice of “fraudulent entrustment.” To evade government taxes, some families would place their land under the name of a powerful patron, someone with an official title or significant influence. In the Ming dynasty, there were clear regulations on tax exemptions for officials of different ranks, as well as for provincial and county-level scholars. However, in practice, these exemptions were often greatly exceeded. Lingao was no exception. While there were few gentry with official titles, there were many powerful landlords. Legally, entrusting land to a powerful landlord offered no tax exemption, but for the county magistrate, not offending the county’s major households was a basic principle of governance. They often had to turn a blind eye to the amount of tax collected. Generally, both sides managed to get by.

Now, the Australians were unquestionably the most powerful household in Lingao county. If they openly refused to pay a single grain of rice, and the county government was powerless to do anything about it, many of the wavering small and medium-sized landlords or independent farmers might seek their patronage. Lingao’s autumn tax revenue would shrink even further. This was a very bad omen for both Wu Mingjin and Wang Zhaomin—it concerned not only Wu Mingjin’s performance evaluation but also their own personal finances. For local officials, the surplus collected from taxes was a reliable and risk-free source of income.

After much thought, Wang Zhaomin proposed that their only option was to consult the Australians and ask them to set an example. Based on their behavior over the past year, the Australians did not seem to want to be enemies with the Ming government and were sometimes even willing to spend money to buy a good image. Therefore, as long as the price was right, they might not refuse outright.

Xiong Buyou, unaware of these calculations, was trying to figure out what the other party truly meant.

“The county’s grain tax is very light,” Wang Zhaomin said quickly, seeing him hesitate. “The official rate is only three and a half dou per mu. For your several thousand mu of land, it would be sufficient for Bairen Village to pay the levy for five hundred mu.”

Xiong Buyou shook his head. “Master Wang, I must report this matter to the Executive Committee before I can give you an answer.”

“Of course,” Wang Zhaomin said, overjoyed to see that there was room for negotiation. He thanked him profusely. If he hadn’t already known that this group of “short-hairs” was impervious to bribes, he would have likely promised him a handsome reward.

Upon his return, Xiong Buyou immediately reported to Wu De. The matter immediately caught Wu De’s full attention, and the Executive Committee convened a meeting to discuss it.

“This is a gift that’s walked right up to our door!” Wen Desi exclaimed, his eyes dancing with excitement. “We were just wondering how to persuade them, and they came to us themselves!”

“This isn’t the same thing, is it?” Ma Qianzhu immediately played devil’s advocate. “He’s asking us to pay the grain tax, not to become the tax collectors.”

“It’s not the same thing, but Wang Zhaomin has just shown us his underwear,” Wen Desi said, using a crude metaphor.

“Previously, we didn’t know how much pressure the Lingao county government was under to collect taxes. Now it seems their pressure is immense,” Wen Desi analyzed. “From Wang Zhaomin’s request, it’s clear that the Lingao county government is facing serious difficulties in tax collection.”

Since they were having trouble collecting taxes, there was much room for the transmigrators to maneuver.

However, they were still in the dark about the specific nature of these difficulties. Before making their next move, they needed to understand the county government’s situation completely.

For such matters, the most direct way was to inquire with the clerk of the county’s “Household Office.”

This was no easy task. The county government had its “Three Ranks and Six Offices,” and the heads of these ranks and the clerks of these offices were not easy people to deal with. Only the clerks were familiar with the grassroots affairs of the government offices, big and small. This knowledge was their “capital.” The true state of affairs, the key points, and the tricks of the trade were closely guarded secrets. Thus, although the position of clerk was not officially hereditary, it was an unwritten rule that it passed from father to son. These men were all seasoned veterans of the bureaucracy, intimately familiar with official business, human nature, and the philosophy of officialdom. The transmigrators could not hope to control or bribe them. Therefore, the Executive Committee’s policy towards this group was to first appease them for their own use, and then, when the time was ripe, to purge them completely.

The clerk of the Lingao County Household Office was named Chen Minggang, a local. It was said that his ancestors had been clerks in Lingao since the Song dynasty. His family possessed many secret, inherited ledgers, and he was extremely familiar with the county’s affairs. Everyone, from all walks of life, had to give him face, making him a very influential figure locally. The Gou brothers’ rampage through Lingao had greatly benefited Chen Minggang. In Ran Yao’s view, gangs like the Gou brothers, despite their temporary noise and apparent power, were easy to eliminate. Once they fell, they would scatter. It was the deeply entrenched, interconnected figures like Chen Minggang who were the true “unseen black hands.”

In the county, he was also an indispensable and popular figure. The fact that Wang Zhaomin could successfully collect the autumn grain tax each year was largely due to Chen Minggang’s considerable efforts. In fact, a magistrate’s ability to establish a good working relationship with the Household Office clerk could directly affect the smoothness of his official career.

Therefore, even Wang Zhaomin, a man of real power in the county, would greet Chen Minggang warmly with a familiar “Old Eighth!”—Chen Minggang was the eighth child in his family—as a sign of informal closeness.

Because the Household Office clerk was a crucial figure who dealt with the entire county’s taxes, Wu De had long thought of winning him over. He had sent Xiong Buyou to interact with him several times, and Lin Baiguang had also tried his hand, but the results were mediocre.

Chen Minggang was not an upright man, nor did he have any firm principles. His attitude was the epitome of slipperiness. Towards the transmigrators, he was extremely accommodating. He handled any request or task without delay and never asked for the usual bribes, giving them more “face” than they could ask for. But when it came to critical issues, especially those concerning the amount of land and the tax burden, he would always beat around the bush, telling half-truths or simply spouting obscure jargon to confuse them.

In the archives of the Political Security Directorate, there was a great deal of “black material” on Chen Minggang. He was arguably one of the most hated yamen runners in the entire county, his crimes even greater than those of the clerk from the Justice Office. Zhang Xingjiao also hated this man to the bone—after all, the ruin of his family had begun with the Household Office colluding with the Gou brothers to pull the “land gone, tax remains” scheme.

But for now, the transmigrators still needed to use him for a while. Xiong Buyou had a formal invitation prepared and sent to Chen Minggang, asking him to meet at the teahouse in front of the county yamen.

Generally, the street in front of the county yamen was the liveliest place in the county, and opposite the yamen, there were always a few teahouses and similar businesses. Here, one could find “scribes” licensed by the government who specialized in writing petitions and lawsuits, as well as experienced pettifoggers who connected with all parties, all of them waiting in the teahouses for clients or looking for business. The yamen’s clerks, runners, attendants, and advisors of all sorts also used these places to exchange information, negotiate terms, collude in corruption, and haggle over prices. If one wanted to do business with the yamen, this was the best window.

Lingao was a small county and lacked such elaborate setups, but the general situation was similar, just on a smaller scale. So, though the teahouse was small, it existed.

Xiong Buyou was already a “celebrity” in the county. Everyone knew he was a leader of the Australians, responsible for liaison with the county government. So, as soon as he arrived at the shop, a waiter immediately led him to a private room in the back.

It was called a private room, but it was actually very small, with just enough space for a table and a few chairs. The tea was nothing special. In any case, the people who came here were mainly to talk business; drinking tea was secondary.

When dealing with the county clerks, Xiong Buyou usually met them here. This was mainly because it was a familiar environment for the clerks, which put them at ease. Additionally, the Executive Committee had another concern: they were reluctant to summon the clerks directly to Bairen City for secret talks, lest it give outsiders the impression that the transmigrators had too deep a connection with the county’s corrupt clerks. Talking in a place for “settling disputes” and “negotiating terms” was more appropriate.

Before long, Chen Minggang arrived. He was nearly fifty, with a dark complexion and a slightly stout build. Due to his status, his clothes were not opulent, but the material and workmanship were quite fine. He held a Sichuan-style fan in his hand.

The waiter led him in. Chen Minggang’s attitude towards the transmigrators could be described as deferential; he bowed every time they met.

“No need for formalities, sit! Sit!” Xiong Buyou greeted him.


Translator’s Notes:

  1. Liao Sarvice Tax: The author notes that the tax rate for the war in Liaodong was 0.009 taels per mu by the second year of the Chongzhen era, though it varied slightly by region. This detail is not delved into deeply.
  2. Lingao’s Tax: The author could not find the specific Liao Sarvice tax for Lingao. The figure used is calculated from Lingao’s taxable land and is not necessarily accurate. For comparison, the tax for Yancheng County in Huai’an Prefecture in the third year of the Tianqi era was 23,000 taels. Yancheng was not a particularly wealthy area, but it was much better off than Lingao.
  3. Tax Rate: The tax rate of 3.5 dou per mu was the average for the Ming dynasty. Records show eighteen different tax standards for Qiongzhou Prefecture, with 3.5 dou being the most common, so that figure is used.
« Previous Act 3 Index Next »