Chapter 191: The Summer Tax

“You wish!” Just as the few men were happily discussing the matter, a person dressed in fine style and fabric, but with several patches, strolled over. One patch covered almost a third of his wide, long sleeve. “There’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world!”

This patched-up “gentleman” was known to everyone as Mr. Na. Mr. Na’s ancestors had been a wealthy family, but by his generation, they had fallen into ruin after being framed in a lawsuit over tax disputes with a rich and powerful family. He became a penniless “man of letters.” In his family’s prosperous days, he had acquired the title of an “Imperial Student.” Although it was later revoked due to the lawsuit, everyone knew he had been wronged, so they still called him “Mr.”

Mr. Na was a decent person and liked to fight for justice, so he had a small reputation locally. Hearing him speak, everyone gathered around and asked him to comment on this “Great Song’s Summer Tax.”

“Since ancient times, who has ever not paid the imperial grain tax?” Mr. Na had read the notice seven or eight times. He understood the concept of “merging the poll tax into the land tax.” It was similar to the Single Whip Reform implemented by the old Grand Secretary Zhang, but the Single Whip Reform only consolidated miscellaneous taxes and wasn’t based on the concept of paying taxes according to the amount of land. Although poor, Mr. Na had read a great many miscellaneous books and quickly figured out that the greatest benefit of merging the poll tax into the land tax was that it would make the population figures crystal clear. Since the poll tax was incorporated into the land tax, there would be no need for households to hide their true number of people.

The total registered population of the Ming dynasty had been continuously decreasing since the Yongle era, which was a very abnormal phenomenon. After Yongle, the Ming dynasty was generally “stable,” even qualifying as a “peaceful and prosperous age” by low standards. Yet, in this peaceful and prosperous age, the population was not increasing but drastically decreasing, which clearly indicated a large number of fugitive households and unregistered “black households.”

Qiongzhou Prefecture also had many unregistered “black households” and fugitive households who had fled from the mainland. The Australians’ move was likely aimed at further clarifying how many people were in Qiongzhou Prefecture.

Connecting this with the large-scale “population census” in Lingao, Mr. Na instantly felt he had understood the Australians’ scheme.

“This is not the Great Song’s summer tax at all,” Mr. Na said with a pedantic air, showing off from the very first sentence. He went on a long tangent about the tax systems of the Song dynasty from various historical records to prove that “the Great Song did not have a system of merging the poll tax into the land tax.” Seeing the impatient looks on the faces of the surrounding peasants, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly, “Casting pearls before swine!”

So he brought the conversation back: “…In short, this is not a system of the Great Song, but a new trick cooked up by the Kun… the Australians themselves!”

A young man asked, “Mr. Na, whether it’s a trick of the Great Song or the Australians, we country folk don’t understand. Just tell us, is the summer tax really going to be collected as the notice says: the more land you have, the more you pay; the less land, the less you pay; and those with less than twenty mu pay nothing?”

“That’s indeed what the notice says,” Mr. Na said, fanning himself with a broken fan. “But since the dawn of dynasties, it has been the natural duty of the people to pay taxes and perform labor service. How can it just disappear? To say that those with little land can pay less or nothing, I think it’s just talk.” He was already dissatisfied with the government, and by extension, all governments. In his view, whether it was the Great Ming, the Great Song, or whatever-the-hell-it-was Australia, they were all birds of a feather. If they didn’t exploit the common people, how could the officials live in luxury and their families enjoy honor and glory?

An old man spoke up, “Mr. Na! I’ve heard that the Australians always keep their word. Whatever they say, they stand by…”

Mr. Na snorted. “Since ancient times, you can’t trust a word officials say. Take the former Prefect Wang, for example. When he was at the prefectural school, he spoke of ‘heavenly principles and human hearts’ with such eloquence. But when it came to himself, he couldn’t extinguish his own desires. He amassed a great fortune and found all sorts of ways to get women. They can feign compliance with the emperor’s words…”

The old man looked around in fear and quickly cried out, “Mr. Na! Mr. Na!”

“It’s fine!” Mr. Na said with a look of indifference. “The Australians have no time to deal with a poor scholar like me right now! Their real goal is to get silver out of the pockets of the large households. The common people have all suffered disasters; where would they get money and grain?”

The local gentry shared a similar understanding as Mr. Na. Merging the poll tax into the land tax, the progressive system—no matter how you looked at it, it was clear the Australians were preparing to “eat the big households.” The major families all became nervous. After a round of networking, the strong backlash Liu Xiang had anticipated did not materialize. Instead, a group of gentry, deliberately dressed in tattered clothes, came to the county office for a collective “petition.” They cried and wailed, telling him how many crops they had lost this year and how they really couldn’t pay the summer tax. Liu Xiang, with a broad smile, humored them with small talk, beating around the bush but refusing to yield an inch.

Disappointed, the group went to seek advice from Hai Shuzu. Hai Shuzu himself was not under much pressure—he had handed over all his land to the Heaven and Earth Society for “full management,” with even the taxes handled by them, so he wasn’t very concerned about paying taxes. But compelled by everyone’s hopes, he had no choice but to make another trip.

“Old Hai!” Liu Xiang said warmly. “I know why you’re here!” Then he added, “Sit firmly in your chair, don’t be so formal!”

“It is a matter of propriety; I dare not be presumptuous.” Hai Shuzu shifted slightly in his seat to show his respect for his superior’s command, but he still sat very formally. To be honest, he didn’t much like the “Old X” and “Little X” forms of address used by the “chiefs.” Although he knew it was a way of showing familiarity, he felt very uncomfortable when it was applied to him.

“You’ve come because that bunch of rich men want you to come here and cry poverty to me again, to ask for a tax reduction, right?”

“The Chief is correct,” Hai Shuzu nodded. “I was also entrusted by others.” He felt this answer was somewhat improper and quickly added, “Although the large households have a lot of land, not all of them are wealthy. They have also suffered from the typhoon and floods, so their days are not easy. I ask the Chief to take note.”

Liu Xiang nodded. “Of course, but the ones who are ‘wealthy’ are probably the majority, right? Besides, even if their days are not easy, they haven’t reached the point of starvation, of having to sell their sons, daughters, and wives.” He stood up and paced a few steps. “It’s the common people who can’t go on…”

Hai Shuzu said, “Yes, the Chief’s words are not false. However, from ancient times to the present, property owners and scholars have been the foundation of the court. I ask the Chief to show them some face.” He paused for a moment to think. “I also ask the Chief to reconsider. Now that the Chiefs’ rule is newly established, it is best to prioritize ‘stability.’ The support or opposition of the gentry and scholars cannot be ignored…”

Liu Xiang thought to himself that this group of gentry really had a strong sense of superiority. If not for the fact that Qiongshan was poor and not a place of literary prosperity, the backlash would probably have been very fierce. But Hai Shuzu’s last sentence clearly showed that he already considered himself a member of the “new dynasty,” which was why he was being so frank.

After hearing him out, Liu Xiang said, “Old Hai, since you trust us so much, I’ll be very clear. What we need right now is grain. The common people didn’t have much to begin with, and now they’ve suffered a disaster, so they certainly can’t provide it. Don’t you agree? To find grain, we can only turn to the large households.”

Hai Shuzu nodded.

“If I wanted to take the easy way out, I could invite all the large households, demand a few hundred or a few thousand shi of grain from each family, and behead anyone who refuses. Do you think I could get the grain then?”

Hai Shuzu gave a bitter smile. “That would be the act of a bandit, not what a gentleman would do. The Chiefs all have great ambitions…”

Liu Xiang said, “Even if you’re right and that method is too thuggish, I have something here that isn’t thuggish.” He pointed to a pile of ledgers on his desk. “This is a list of the tax arrears in Qiongshan County over the years, and the amounts.” He smiled. “I didn’t expect that the biggest tax evaders were not the common people, but rather the foundation of the court.”

Hai Shuzu’s face flushed red, and for a moment he didn’t know what to say.

“I’ll just use these ledgers. I’ll demand that these tax-evading gentry pay all their back taxes and the interest for all these years. Even the Ming emperor couldn’t say I’m wrong, right? Do you think they should pay or not?”

“They should pay.” Hai Shuzu hadn’t expected Chief Liu to have this card up his sleeve. The gentry evading taxes was a common practice throughout the Ming empire, nothing surprising. In the Jiangnan region, there were even property owners who had been in arrears for decades. The court never expected to collect all these back taxes.

Hai Shuzu returned with nothing. Liu Xiang refused to yield an inch on the summer tax. Although the gentry cursed him to high heaven in private, the sword was ultimately mightier than the tongue. Moreover, the pacification war and the land survey had already taught them enough lessons—they knew it was best not to try to oppose the Australians.

As the tax collectors trained by Chen Ce took their positions, the first batch of tax notices began to be dispatched by special messengers.

The notices came in two types. The first was a public announcement, posted widely in the markets and villages of each “du.” It listed each household by the head’s name, the amount of land they actually owned, its equivalent in “standard mu,” which tier it belonged to, how much was owed, how much was exempted, and the conditions for exemption. This was called “public disclosure.” Anyone with objections could appeal to the tax bureau.

The second type was called the “influential household” notice. It was delivered in person to large households owning more than five hundred mu of land. As they were rich and major taxpayers, they enjoyed the privilege of a special notice. The content was the same as the public announcement, but each influential household’s notice required a receipt signed or marked by the recipient.

Liu Xiang stipulated: If a notice could not be delivered after 45 days because no one signed for it, the household would be deemed not an “influential household,” and all their registered land would be confiscated. Under this powerful regulation, the delivery rate of the influential household notices reached one hundred percent in less than two weeks.