Chapter 447 - Autumn Levy (Part 2)
"Old Eight's greed will know no bounds this year," Liu Youren declared, his expression darkening. "The Australians have placed their trust in entirely the wrong man."
"You worry too much, Master Liu," Zhang Youfu offered in consolation. "The grain levy will proceed as it always has. What could possibly be different? Surely Old Eight won't transform overnight into a different person."
"As if I don't know exactly what manner of creature Old Eight is," Liu Youren replied with cold contempt. "He's the sort who delights in riding the coattails of power. Now that he's attached himself to the great tree of the Australians, things will spiral out of control. Mark my words—he won't rest until he's created a thorough disaster." With that pronouncement, he stamped his foot and departed.
Zhang Youfu made no attempt to detain him. Instead, he hurried off to report to Wu De.
Wu De received the news with an enigmatic smile. "There's something you should remember henceforth. I've departed on a journey—a very long road. There's no need to seek me out for the time being."
"Yes, yes," Zhang Youfu agreed reflexively, though he didn't entirely understand.
"However, should any matter arise, you are to report it immediately to my secretary, Chuyu. Is that clear?"
"This humble one understands completely." Zhang Youfu knew Chuyu well—she had once served as a maidservant at Gou Manor and now held the position of Wu De's favored bedchamber attendant. He was well aware that the Australians harbored no objections to women managing affairs of consequence; indeed, some among their number appeared publicly and served as leaders in their own right.
Wu De issued several additional instructions, to which Zhang Youfu nodded repeatedly.
Finally, Wu De posed one last question: "You've joined the Tiandihui, have you not?"
"Indeed, though in truth my landholdings barely qualified me for membership." Zhang Youfu explained that his participation was purely a gesture of support. Yet since joining, the Tiandihui had proven remarkably diligent—representatives visited regularly to advise his farmhands on cultivation techniques, and they periodically delivered innovations like fertilizer. The crops across his several dozen mu now thrived as never before.
"Prepare a room. The Tiandihui will be sending someone to lodge at your residence and provide ongoing guidance."
"Yes." Zhang Youfu understood immediately that this person would be there to monitor him. Clearly, something significant lay beneath the surface of this grain levy business. He ventured a cautious probe: "Should this humble one inform him whenever I meet with the grain households?"
"He's there to assist with your farming. Other matters are none of his concern. Remember—if anything arises, go to Chuyu."
Chen Minggang had received word through Zhou Qi that Master Xiong had approved his proposal to contract this year's tax levy. The news pleased him greatly, for he had made his own calculations.
In years past, though he had profited handsomely from the grain levy through various manipulations, his takings remained somewhat inferior to those of Qiongshan, Chengmai, and Wenchang—counties blessed with larger populations and more extensive farmland. Most local landlords here maintained fortified villages for self-defense, and the court's authority carried little weight. After each round of collection, once he distributed shares to his subordinates and enforcers, the actual profit in his pocket amounted to a mere two or three hundred shi. For someone like Chen Minggang—who had visited Qiongshan's prefectural seat and even traveled to Guangzhou, who had glimpsed something of the wider world—this was profoundly disappointing.
Now the Australians had appeared at an opportune moment. These newcomers were formidable adversaries—courteous enough in everyday dealings, yet utterly ruthless when violence was required. Whether storming Gou Family Manor or exterminating bandits, they killed and seized property without so much as blinking, thoroughly terrifying the local gentry. This time, Chen Minggang sensed he finally possessed a powerful patron.
The government yamen could easily be bought off, but the Australians, it seemed, could not. Chen Minggang was an observant man. He perceived that while the Australians appeared courteous and principled on the surface, at their core they were people for whom benefit reigned paramount.
As long as something—or someone—could deliver sufficient profit to them, the Australians would protect it.
Through contracting this grain levy, he would deliver the Australians their full share of profit while simultaneously exploiting their fearsome reputation to enrich himself for years to come.
Chen Minggang reckoned that given the government's glacial efficiency and the Australians' military prowess, even if the Great Ming eventually managed to expel them, that day lay at least three to five years distant. It was entirely possible that the Australians, like the Portuguese before them, might simply settle permanently in Lingao.
And even if the Australians ultimately packed up and departed, Chen Minggang himself would suffer no loss whatsoever. At worst, if his reputation became too tarnished, he would simply resign his post and allow his apprentice Zhou Qi to serve as figurehead for a time before his own son succeeded him. So long as he retained possession of the Fish-Scale Register, it mattered not who sat on the throne—this position of Household Clerk would remain his family's birthright. After all, his lineage had already survived two dynastic changes since the Song; a few more would make no difference.
This was precisely the clever scheme Chen Minggang had devised. But as for how to please the Australians, how vast their appetite might prove, and precisely how far they would permit him to go—these matters still required careful probing.
He instructed Zhou Qi to summon all his apprentices and the county's grain runners to his private residence—which was Qiuhong's home. After his wife's last outburst, Chen Minggang had simply brought everything into the open and moved openly into Qiuhong's residence. He had even asked the constables' squad leader to look out for the place. Though his wife and her relatives simmered with resentment, they could do nothing. Zhang Wu had attempted to cause trouble several times, but the squad leader suppressed him on each occasion. Zhang Shi, wary of gossip among colleagues, had grown reluctant to continue supporting his brother and sister's agitation. The two sides had fallen into a cold standoff.
Within a few days, all the grain runners from across the county had assembled. Lingao County originally employed nearly thirty runners, divided into two categories. The first consisted of "contracting households"—typically petty rural landlords who, through collusion with Chen Minggang or by virtue of commanding numerous strong-armed clansmen capable of dominating the countryside, had obtained their positions. The second category comprised urban and rural hoodlums and down-and-out riffraff, including some exiled convicts who served as enforcers during grain collection.
This gathering was already missing half its usual number. Many of these men had previously colluded with bandits. The recent campaign had launched a large-scale, mass-mobilization "Root Out Bandits" movement, and several had been executed or arrested. Others who had no direct connection to banditry but had accumulated deep popular resentment through years of extortionate collection had also been seized by the masses—ostensibly for collaborating with bandits—and summarily executed. The work teams welcomed this outcome; it provided convenient pretexts for eliminating local strongmen.
Those grain runners who did appear remained jittery from the rural campaigns and terrified of the Australians as if they were tigers. In particular, there was a female Baldy-bandit named Du Wen who inspired universal trembling. Rumor held that several men who had tasted her iron kicks would be fit only for the eunuch's life in their next incarnation.
They had spent weeks anxious and uncertain about their futures. Now, suddenly receiving a summons from Clerk Chen for a meeting about the grain levy, each felt his spirits revive. They dressed in their finest clothes and arrived eager to discuss business.
As the crowd gathered, conversations buzzed with exchanges of recent tidings—who had died, who had been arrested, whose whereabouts remained unknown. Being able to meet again, and hearing they might continue handling the grain levy, they felt as though the clouds had parted to reveal the sun.
When Chen Minggang observed that everyone had arrived, he cleared his throat and commenced.
He spoke of how the Australians intended to contract the grain levy this year. The attendees had heard whispers of this before arriving. Learning they would now work for the Australians, far from feeling shame at becoming "collaborators," they were positively elated—now they could establish connections with the Australians! Not only might they retain their positions, but they could seize the opportunity to make fortunes.
"...However, we still don't fully comprehend the Australians' temperament. I've called everyone here to work out a proper strategy, so that we might negotiate effectively with their leaders."
After some deliberation, since the Australians would be handling the overall contract this time, the individual contracting households would no longer manage affairs directly. Though secondary subcontracting remained possible, all agreed that for their first engagement with the Australians, caution was paramount. Rather than scheming over subcontracting arrangements and "padded margins," they should focus entirely on collection. Delivering a solid amount of grain to the Australians took priority.
"But how much should that be?" someone inquired.
"From what I gathered from Chief Xiong, the intention is to include the 'Reasonable Burden' portion alongside the levy. That amounts to three thousand gongshi," Zhou Qi explained.
"Far too little." If that were the entire sum, why would the Australians bother with contracting at all? Clearly, their expectations ran far higher.
"Precisely. We must at least double it for the Australian masters to recognize our value."
"Then we'll need to increase the tribute rice. The old rate of adding three dou per shi of base quota won't suffice." Several among them possessed skill at mental arithmetic, and they swiftly calculated the figures.
One of the grain runners, nicknamed "Umbrella-Shop Little Hu," spoke up: "Eighth Master! If we simply follow past practices this year, I doubt we'll be able to extract much profit."
The Magistrate's customary share had to come from somewhere, and the Australians' "Reasonable Burden" represented a substantial sum. Naturally, this assembly also wanted their cut. If they merely followed precedent, their only option was to increase the tribute rice.
Adding tribute rice wasn't a major difficulty, but the defenseless small households had already been squeezed to the point of gasping for breath. Pressing them further would yield little and might even provoke them to petition the Australians directly. The larger households could certainly afford additional payments—not only did they pay less tribute rice to begin with, but they also possessed abundant hidden fields and land sheltered under others' names. Yet these households had already been providing regular benefits for years. Increasing their levy without justification would inevitably breed resentment and complicate future dealings.
Zhou Qi declared, "What's there to fear? If anyone refuses to pay more, simply bring in the Australians. They'll end up like Gou Family Manor—let's see whose neck remains stiff enough to resist."
"One mustn't burn all bridges." Chen Minggang shook his head. "Stirring up trouble isn't difficult, but everyone here must still make a living in Lingao going forward. When the Australians eventually depart, what will you do then?"
Umbrella-Shop Little Hu observed, "We absolutely must establish some pretext. Only then can we approach the major households and leave them with nothing to say. This also preserves room to maneuver in the future."
Chen Minggang nodded approvingly. Little Hu possessed sound instincts—far sharper than his own apprentices. A pity the man was lame and couldn't be put forward as a public face. Thinking of this, he glanced at Zhou Qi and felt a wave of distaste toward his senior apprentice.
(End of Chapter)