Chapter 457 - Autumn Levy (Part 12)
Though Gou Chengxuan spoke these words aloud, the hatred smoldering in his heart only intensified. This scheme reeked of collusion between the Baldies and officials in the county yamen. His bitterness now encompassed not merely the transmigrators, but the entire corrupt apparatus of the county seat.
"Wu Mingjin—just you wait!" he snarled through clenched teeth. "You worthless traitor, conspiring with those Baldies!"
The Lai brothers dared not utter a sound. They understood all too well the gravity of their young master's loss. Without the protective mantle of the xiucai title, he was now nothing more than a common grass-folk—stripped of privilege, exposed to the world.
Huang Binkun's emotions remained in turmoil long after his encounter with Gou Chengxuan. The disgraced scholar had returned to the county seat bent on vengeance against the Baldies. By appearing openly and risking exposure, he had clearly calculated that Huang Binkun would not betray him—and the scoundrel's ability to read men's hearts proved disturbingly accurate.
His purpose in revealing himself was obvious: to forge an alliance against their common enemy. Whether to join forces with such a man, Huang Binkun could not decide. Yet recalling Gou Chengxuan's recent loss of his xiucai status, he began to perceive the threads connecting recent events. The Baldies were clearly determined to annihilate Gou Er and his son at any cost. The two sides had become irreconcilable enemies. If he entangled himself with Gou Chengxuan and the association came to light, Huang Family Village would become the second Gou Family Manor—razed and ruined.
At this thought, cold sweat broke across Huang Binkun's back. Though he knew nothing of theoretical concepts like "antagonistic contradictions" versus "contradictions among the people," he understood instinctively that hatreds came in varying degrees of severity. For now, there was no need for him to martyr himself for righteous causes.
In the end, he resolved to ignore Gou Chengxuan for the time being. The man was in the city; he could always be found if circumstances changed. Besides, whether they joined forces or not, Gou Chengxuan would inevitably make trouble for the Australians on his own.
While Huang Binkun busied himself with his campaign, Chen Minggang and his gang had not been idle. By the time the second deadline passed, they had negotiated terms with most of the county's major households. The process, naturally, had involved judicious applications of threats, promises, and bribes.
Chen Minggang reviewed the account books his grain runners had submitted and felt considerable satisfaction. Not a single gentry family or major household had dared refuse their demands this time. There had been bargaining, of course, but all within the range he was prepared to concede. He had been careful not to squeeze the major households too hard—how long the Australians would remain was still uncertain, and this was only his first season working for them.
This "land survey," achieved without lifting a finger, had added nearly ten thousand mu of assessable land to the rolls. Setting aside tribute rice, and calculating only on the government's standard base rate of three dou five sheng per mu, this meant more than three thousand shi of grain conjured from thin air. Such a substantial gift would surely delight the Australians beyond expectation. His contract for next year was as good as secured.
His personal cut was equally rich. The surcharge of one dou per shi alone would yield close to a thousand shi this year—a fortune beyond anything he had dared imagine before. In the past, major households often failed to pay their full tribute rice. Some even evaded the basic levy altogether. This time, not only was the tribute rice collected in full, but no one had dared openly refuse the additional surcharge. And that said nothing of the countless smaller benefits collected in connection with negotiating land assessment figures. The oil-shiny faces of his grain runners told him everyone had profited handsomely—though naturally, he had reaped the most.
However, as Chen Minggang flipped toward the back of the ledger, his expression gradually darkened. He finished examining the book and sat in his chair for a long while, brow furrowed in contemplation. His young page servant under the eaves recognized the prelude to a tantrum and quickly retreated out of harm's way.
Just then, Umbrella-Shop Little Hu arrived. Chen Minggang glanced at the accounts Little Hu submitted and praised him with a few words. Little Hu's face broke into a wreath of smiles. Despite his lame leg, he bowed repeatedly and lavished flattery on his superior.
Though Umbrella-Shop Little Hu walked with a limp, his wits were sharper than most. He had apprenticed at an umbrella shop from childhood, then ingratiated himself with a grain runner and learned all the tricks of that trade. Being a grain runner required, first and foremost, ruthlessness—orphans and widows kneeling before you in supplication could not stop you from taking their last he of rice. Second, it required physical stamina—collecting taxes meant traveling the countryside, braving the elements, sleeping rough, and occasionally engaging in bloody fights. Someone without a strong constitution could not handle such work. Little Hu was at a disadvantage physically. Ruthlessness alone could not earn him a place in this profession. His ability lay mainly in "knowing the numbers"—no matter how irregularly shaped a plot might be, a skilled grain runner could size it up at a glance and know precisely how many mu and fen it contained, assess the condition of the rice, estimate the yield. This skill came only from hands-on experience combined with basic geometry and arithmetic. Most grain runners lacked such expertise.
Having apprenticed in business from childhood, Little Hu possessed some foundation in these skills. Combined with his diligence, he had become known throughout the trade for "knowing the numbers." Even Chen Minggang admitted that Little Hu's field-assessment abilities were superior to most.
Perhaps because of his disability, Little Hu harbored an especially intense desire to climb higher. Of course, in the grain runner profession, upward mobility was virtually nonexistent. No matter how skilled one became, everyone remained merely a lackey of the Household Clerk. Little Hu's goal was to become the foremost lackey—in other words, Chen Minggang's most trusted confidant.
Chen Minggang's most trusted people were naturally his apprentices. But among these apprentices, Little Hu knew that only Zhou Qi had any real chance of inheriting the mantle; the others were merely errand boys. Umbrella-Shop Little Hu's objective was to dislodge Zhou Qi from his position.
Zhou Qi had served Chen Minggang since childhood; master and apprentice shared deep ties. Such a relationship could not be easily severed by a few slanderous words. But ever since Chen Minggang had taken Qiuhong as his mistress, Little Hu sensed his opportunity had arrived. He was savvy about tactics—ordinarily, he would drop cold water only at critical moments, his remarks seeming casual while ensuring Chen Minggang took careful notice. Added to this was the fact that Zhou Qi had never truly been in good standing with his master, harboring no hope of inheriting the clerkship, and occasionally let slip certain complaints. Some of these words had reached Chen Minggang's ears. Gradually, the master had begun to distrust this apprentice.
Noticing Chen Minggang's displeased expression now, Little Hu's mind stirred. "Eighth Master! Is something the matter?"
"Hmph." Chen Minggang's face darkened immediately. "Secretly currying favor! Did he think I wouldn't find out?!"
Umbrella-Shop Little Hu now understood exactly what was happening. Lately, rumors had been circulating in the streets that Zhou Qi had lined his own pockets during this "land survey" farce. The major households were obviously willing to show him generosity because he had gone easy on them during negotiations. Chen Minggang was probably fuming over this discovery.
So Little Hu feigned ignorance. "The major households have all been crying and complaining, saying this 'land survey' is flaying them alive..."
"Flaying? Pull a few hairs off them and they cry to high heaven." Chen Minggang was dismissive. "And now I haven't even managed to pull a few hairs! He actually dares deceive me! A good-for-nothing who accomplishes nothing but can certainly ruin things."
Now Little Hu was certain this was about Zhou Qi. He assumed an alarmed expression. "Eighth Master, all of us work honestly and would never dare deceive you. If there truly is someone so treacherous as to betray his master, none of us would tolerate him!"
Originally, Chen Minggang had merely been angry about Zhou Qi selling favors behind his back. Now, with Little Hu's phrasing—"betray his master"—his fury intensified. Remembering the recent street rumors, especially the gossip about Zhou Qi and Qiuhong, his disgust for this apprentice grew even deeper.
"Mm!" Chen Minggang nodded. "You may go now."
"Yes!" Umbrella-Shop Little Hu, seeing that his master's expression had darkened considerably, knew his poison had been administered at precisely the right dose. Secretly pleased, he quickly withdrew.
Zhou Qi remained completely oblivious. His generous treatment of major households during this "land survey" was indeed fact. For all these years, he had run about on Chen Minggang's behalf, and in the end he had not even managed to secure himself a wife. He had little savings. Moreover, his master was now suspicious of him over the Qiuhong affair—though the truth was, nothing had happened between him and Qiuhong. Touching his master's woman was beyond Zhou Qi's nerve. Years ago, a county hoodlum had been tied to a rock and drowned in the river merely for flirting with an itinerant actress that his master had fancied.
Qiuhong or no Qiuhong, Zhou Qi was not particularly interested—though the woman did possess an alluring look about her. As for silver, this land survey had brought him plenty of benefits. What Zhou Qi worried about most was his future.
His master had three sons. Unless they all suddenly died, the clerkship would never pass to him. Chen Minggang's eldest son had already come of age, and his attitude toward Zhou Qi was merely cordial, never warm. This young master of the clerkship naturally maintained his own circle of hangers-on. When the time came for succession, Zhou Qi might not even be welcome to curry favor.
He was past thirty—halfway through his life by any reckoning. Whether he could even beg for scraps from this junior apprentice-brother in the future was uncertain. The junior apprentice-brother was indifferent to him, and the master's wife even more so. Having assisted the master with his womanizing for years, the master's wife had long despised Zhou Qi and never showed him a friendly face. Thinking of the Zhang brothers from the mistress's family, Zhou Qi's prospects seemed bleaker still.
If he wanted to continue making a living in Lingao after his master passed on, Zhou Qi had resolved to maintain good relations with the major households. They had been here for generations. Strong relationships with them meant he would always be able to eat, no matter what he ended up doing.
Of course, he had also considered ingratiating himself with the Australians. But Zhou Qi suspected the Australians might not stay long—if they blew through like a typhoon and vanished, all his efforts would have been wasted.
For this reason, during the land survey, he had done his best to accommodate the major households. The figures his master had given him always settled at the minimum threshold. He reasoned that since the threshold had been set by his master, meeting it should satisfy him without complaint. The grateful gifts from the major households had been generous as well.
With the task more than half completed and proceeding smoothly, Zhou Qi felt quite pleased with himself. With cash in hand, he made a special trip to the East Gate Market to relax—eating, drinking, and calling on a girl to ease the weariness of these busy days.
(End of Chapter)