Chapter 264: The Autumn Levy (Part 29)

Xiong Buyou took the paper and looked at it. It was a “petition” to undertake the agency of the public treasury. This was his first time handling such a matter, so he couldn’t help but ask, “Is this all that’s needed?”

“The yamen also needs to give you an approval and issue a public notice,” Wang Zhaomin said. “Then the matter will be settled. I will naturally handle this.”

Seeing how experienced he was in this matter, Xiong Buyou suddenly became suspicious. Could it be that Wang Zhaomin had handled such things before?

Wang Zhaomin, perhaps sensing his thoughts, smiled. “You don’t have to look at me like that. This business of acting as a public treasury agent has been done in other parts of the Great Ming—”

“This method has many benefits,” Wang Zhaomin said meaningfully. “Although I have never handled it myself, some of my fellow scribes have.”

“Oh?” Xiong Buyou’s interest was piqued. “I would like to hear more.”

“There’s nothing remarkable about it, it’s similar to your methods,” Wang Zhaomin said. “However, it also depends on the location. Some places are not suitable for it—like here.”

For a private bank to act as a public treasury agent, several prerequisites had to be met. First, it had to be in a prosperous area with developed commerce and a high flow of people and goods, involving large sums of public funds—like the prefectures and counties of Southern Zhili. Private banks wouldn’t open in poor, remote areas.

A private bank acting as a public treasury agent naturally had its benefits for public affairs, but the greatest benefits were for the county magistrate personally. The merchants who ran the private banks valued harmony and wealth, were open to negotiation, and would not easily kick a man when he was down. They were much easier to deal with than the greedy and ruthless clerks. Sometimes, when public funds were temporarily unavailable for private use, they could even borrow from the bank.

“But if there’s a deficit, wouldn’t it be difficult to cover—”

“Hahaha,” Wang Zhaomin laughed and shook his head. “When it comes to practical skills, no one in the Great Ming can compare to you. But when it comes to the ways of officialdom, your skills are still shallow.”

“I will have to ask for Scribe Wang’s guidance in the future.”

“Hehe, with your talents, if you were to serve in the Great Ming, you would all be capable officials,” Wang Zhaomin said, intending to flatter them.

“Not at all, not at all,” Xiong Buyou said. “They say a scribe’s pen is powerful; a single character can determine a family’s fortune or misfortune, decide life and death, and sometimes even affect the magistrate’s career! Others say ‘all the world’s great writings are in the scribes’ offices,’ which shows the skill involved.”

“That’s not an exaggeration,” Wang Zhaomin accepted the compliment calmly. “But my skills are not refined enough to reach that level, otherwise why would I be a scribe in this small county!”

As he said this, he seemed a little downcast, as if saddened by his lack of success.

It seems this slick Scribe Wang is also a malcontent, Xiong Buyou thought. That’s good. Dissatisfaction breeds motivation.

According to informants, Wu Mingjin had privately begun to lose trust in his scribe. Wang Zhaomin, having been responsible for negotiations with the Transmigration Group for a long time, had received many benefits. Wu Mingjin often suspected him of playing tricks.

In that case, they could perhaps win him over in the future, further weakening Wu Mingjin.

After some more pleasantries, Xiong Buyou took his leave. The takeover of the yamen was completed in less than a week, and the entire establishment was refreshed. Wu De ordered most of the action team to withdraw from the county town. The new yamen runners, having completed their training, officially took up their duties. To ensure the yamen remained firmly under the control of the Transmigration Group, a “County Office” was built next to the yamen, complete with power lines and telephone lines. Xiong Buyou was appointed as its director, and You Guotuan as the security commissioner, with full authority over political and military security in the county town. To allow for inconspicuous entry and exit, a closed corridor was built between the yamen and the stationed office.

After the Planning Committee inventoried the county treasury and re-established the accounts using modern methods, it was officially handed over to Delong’s agency. To avoid provoking Wu Mingjin too much, the salt, materials, and confiscated goods treasuries were still managed by the yamen, but the treasurers were all replaced by interns trained by the Planning Committee, who managed the treasuries according to the rules and regulations set by the Transmigration Group.

“The next step is to begin a large-scale liquidation,” Wu De said, issuing instructions over the phone from his command post in Zhang Youfu’s residence. “We must thoroughly investigate the assets of all the clerks who served in the county! Especially those in ‘lucrative’ positions.”

“Right now, Zhou Dongtian and his team are concentrating all their efforts on Chen Minggang’s group…” Zhou Botao lamented the lack of manpower.

“Have them expose each other!” Wu De said coldly. “First, pick a few less important ones who have blood debts. Find their enemies and hold a public struggle session in the study class. Let everyone seek revenge and settle scores. Let a few of them be struggled to death.”

“Understood!” Zhou Botao understood his meaning. “I’ll have someone set up the venue and make it a grand affair.”

“You must find everyone who has a grudge against them, whether it’s a blood debt or a minor grievance. Once the atmosphere is right, the masses will inevitably take action—” Wu De instructed. “Let the masses vent their anger. But you must be careful to protect the others. A little physical suffering is enough for them.”

“Yes, I’ll arrange it right away.”

“When does Operation Sweep-1 begin?” Wu De asked.

“In three days,” Zhou Botao reported. “We are currently mobilizing the troops and equipment for the operation.”

Operation Sweep-1 was the plan to clear out the families of the arrested clerks from the county town. This was primarily to ensure stability within the town and prevent any sabotage. It was also an opportunity to confiscate their property to supplement the Planning Committee’s warehouses.

“We must be prepared for them to resist in groups or set fires—this would alarm the common people and damage our reputation,” Wu De said, spreading a map of Lin’gao County on the table. “Some of the clerks’ residences are clustered together. These areas need special attention.”

“We have a plan in place. We will launch the arrests simultaneously on a unified signal.”

“Are they being watched now?”

“Yes, the men of the Zhuang Ban are mainly doing this.”

“Remember, the entire clearing operation must be fast,” Wu De said. “People and things must be moved out of the city as quickly as possible. After it’s done, arrange for people to guard the sites—the Planning Committee’s special search team can’t cover so many places at once. We must prevent looters from taking any hidden items we haven’t found.”

The Planning Committee’s special search team was a newly established unit under its direct command. Composed of several transmigrators and local personnel, its mission was to search for hidden wealth and important items. They were known as the “House Ransacking Team.”

After arranging the work in the city, he called the study class:

“Has Chen Minggang confessed?”

“Not yet,” Zhou Dongtian’s voice came over the phone. “I plan to start with the others first, gather all the peripheral evidence, and then begin his interrogation.”

“Good, but it must be done quickly! Especially the fish-scale registers and account books in his possession. We must get them as soon as possible!” Wu De emphasized the words “as soon as possible.”

The collection of the grain tax was only half-finished and could not be abandoned. They needed to find out from the account books how many tricks Chen Minggang had played and how much of Lin’gao’s “hidden land” he truly controlled. Not to mention the upcoming tax system reform and land ownership re-registration campaigns.

“I’ll get it done as soon as possible,” Zhou Dongtian chuckled on the phone. “One night, I guarantee he’ll talk.”

“It’s all up to you.”

“But you have to bring me his family first, and that concubine of his, What’s-her-name-Hong. I think this old bastard is a tough nut to crack. We need to ‘move him with emotion’ to break him.”

“Alright, we have people watching them. I’ll send someone to do it right away.”

After hanging up, Zhou Dongtian returned to his interrogation room. The study class was located in a temple not far from the county town. This temple was built when the Ming Dynasty was founded by Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang, as part of the standard facilities in each county. It was a type of official shrine, but which deity it was dedicated to had been lost to time, and even the locals were unsure. The temple had no more worshippers, but some of the original, well-built halls were still standing and were now being used by the Transmigration Group. The Lin’gao Construction Company had repaired the usable but dilapidated buildings and dismantled the unusable ones, utilizing their stone foundations.

Using the existing ruins, the construction company had built rows of barracks, watchtowers, and barbed wire fences. The location was ideal, not encroaching on arable land, and though close to the county town, it was relatively hidden. The Executive Committee planned to turn this place into a prison in the future, to hold important captives and prisoners.

Zhou Dongtian’s interrogation office was set up on the stone platform of a collapsed hall. The construction company had erected a fully equipped, prefabricated modular house on top of it, complete with electricity and a telephone.

He walked down the corridor and opened a leather-padded, soundproofed door at the end. Inside, all the furniture was bolted to the floor or walls. A desk lamp was on, its beam shining on the face of Umbrella Shop Xiao Hu, who was handcuffed to an interrogation chair, his head hanging low.

Several of his apprentices were in the room, their sleeves rolled up, sweat beading on their foreheads. They stood at attention and saluted when he entered.

“Well, have you gotten anything out of him?”

“Reporting, sir! Nothing new,” the person in charge of recording the confession stood up and reported loudly.

Zhou Dongtian walked over to Xiao Hu. His face was clean and his clothes were relatively neat, but he was mentally exhausted—Zhou Dongtian adhered to the most important rule of this line of work from another time and place: never leave obvious marks. He had taught his students this as well.

“Alright, you’re just a grain collector. Is it necessary to be so loyal to Chen Minggang?” Zhou Dongtian knew he had suffered a lot and now needed a gentle person to play the role of the good cop.

“Wuwuwu, please spare me…” Xiao Hu just lowered his head and cried. “I really only know this much…”