Chapter 946 – Clearing Debts

Ji Xin responded: "They're allowed to cheat common folk through trickery, but we can't give them a taste of their own medicine?" He smiled. "I don't even need to apply our own commercial code or civil code—the laws promulgated by the Ming government itself are enough to deal with them."

The two grand legal codes Ji Xin mentioned actually hadn't even been started yet—still being compiled, or rather, adapted.

"Really?"

"Of course. At least legally, the Ming forbids usurious exploitation. It's not only in the Da Ming Code—even locally, the government has issued prohibitions multiple times. Materials are in the archives. It's just that major households have never taken them seriously. That's one. Two, these major households have themselves been in arrears on grain taxes for years, in amounts that are quite serious. Is that not illegal under the Da Ming Code? Add it all up and it's a staggering sum. Given that, what's all this talk about 'taxes come from grain, grain comes from rent'?" Ji Xin spoke with confidence. "If necessary, I'll settle accounts with them on that point first."

After the conference, Liu Xiang ordered the names of registered "prospective migrant workers" posted at the temple gate, displayed publicly for twenty-four hours. Anyone with objections to a specific person's debt issues had to immediately bring evidence to the provisional court to file an objection; late submissions would not be accepted.

As for those who couldn't prove tenants had debts, they could not obstruct tenants from leaving—in the Ming Dynasty, the tenant farming system generally no longer involved personal bondage. Although tenants remained legally inferior to landlords, they had personal freedom, came and went as they pleased, and landlords had no right to detain them.

By evening, roughly thirty percent of the applying refugees were found to have debt issues. Various debt documents piled up on a table. Ji Xin, fully prepared, instructed the financial personnel sent by Dalong Bank, the retained clerks from the county yamen's Revenue Section, and court staff to work together, organizing materials, collecting plaintiffs' evidence into case files, then numbering them sequentially. People would be called in by number for debt clearance.

Ji Xin had materials brought from the County Office: a list of unpaid taxes and amounts compiled during the land surveys and yamen takeover. Some major households had been in arrears on grain taxes for years; some had simply never paid at all. The accumulated figures had reached staggering levels. If they wanted to make a case of it, launching a major prosecution would present no problem. It was simply that for now, the transmigrators hadn't established a firm footing and temporarily didn't want their actions to look too ugly. When the time was ripe, they would deal with these households harshly.

Plaintiffs and defendants were gathered in the provisional court—a side hall of the temple—for debt clearance. The provisional court was crowded and noisy, but no one dared speak: infantry bayonets gleamed, the yamen runners borrowed from the county yamen held clubs and whips—the entire court radiated intimidation.

Pairs of debtors and creditors called in had to first confirm the authenticity and amount of debts before Ji Xin. During the clearance, large quantities of forged and altered contracts and IOUs were discovered—some with altered figures, some cases of mistaken identity, and some without even fingerprints or seals, just scribbled notes presented as evidence.

Any evidence proven forged was immediately stamped void and confiscated. Plaintiffs were immediately dragged before the bench and given forty strokes of the heavy rod. One forged document earned forty strokes; two got sixty; three got ninety—and so on. The borrowed yamen runners had long wanted to show off before the Australian chiefs. Each was vigorous and unhesitating. Below the bench, rainwater and blood flowed together; on the bench, feces and urine flew. One person was even beaten to death on the spot. The plaintiffs were scared out of their wits and begged to withdraw their suits, no longer daring to pursue any debts.

"How can this be? Debts must be repaid—it's only right. I beat those scoundrels and villains. You're all good citizens—what is there to fear?" Ji Xin judged the situation was about right. "Anyone who forged documents and is willing to repent: step forward and confess immediately. All past offenses will be forgiven."

Immediately a batch of people came forward to confess—the taste of forty heavy strokes was not pleasant. Ji Xin had their forged documents displayed, stamped void, and retained as evidence. Then he ordered all of them to write confessions and pay fines of ten shi of grain per forged document.

For valid contracts, amounts and interest were settled according to the figures—the court wouldn't recognize debts that used compound interest tricks to trap people for three generations. At most, settlement was at Dalong Bank's maximum annual interest rate of twenty-five percent. Principal and interest were converted to grain circulation vouchers and paid by Dalong Bank.

To ensure creditors would accept circulation vouchers, Ji Xin announced policy on the spot: circulation vouchers could be used to offset grain taxes and other miscellaneous levies in both summer and autumn taxation. This way, even if major households considered the vouchers worthless for circulation, the guarantee that they could pay public grain taxes meant national credit stood behind them.

Dalong Bank wasn't paying off debts for free—in fact, it was purchasing the debts. These debtors were borrowing from Dalong, pledging their labor—that is, future wages—as collateral.

During the clearance, some tenants who owed major household debts, upon hearing they'd have to borrow from the "government" to go work in Lingao, immediately changed their minds in fright. For such cases, Yang Yun patiently conducted outreach work, but didn't salvage many—after all, in this era, borrowing from the government was a terror rooted in the subconscious. Liu Xiang didn't mind this. The more who remained, the better for him.

The clearance process started slowly, then progressed quickly. When Ji Xin saw there was nothing thorny left below—just clearance paperwork—he handed the work to the several naturalized citizen cadres under him and stepped outside for some air.

Liu Xiang approached to greet him: "Beautifully done! That was the big stick opening the way, carrot following!"

Ji Xin said nothing, just smiled. His face displayed the familiar bitter expression.

"Honestly, this approach isn't good. It's just an expedient."

"What's not good about it?" Liu Xiang didn't understand. "These major households openly forged documents and exploited people with usury. If we don't give them a good thrashing, they'll probably expect to keep doing whatever they want, bullying the countryside."

Ji Xin nodded: "What you say is right, but doing it this way, I'm acting with heaven's mandate in my mouth, playing fast and loose with human life. Frankly, it's no different from what Magistrate Han Fuju did. From the perspective of building a society ruled by law, it's extremely inappropriate." He sighed and added: "Actually, they don't deserve to die."

Though Liu Xiang saw his point, he still felt somewhat annoyed. Internally he criticized: The petty bourgeoisie's weakness is acting up again.

"Don't overthink it. China's been this way for thousands of years, hasn't it?" he said. "I'm not biased toward the poor—poor doesn't equal good. Shrews and scoundrels are everywhere. But look at the situation now. When rich major households operate, they have absolutely no bottom line. They just scribble a note, have someone put a fingerprint on it—who knows who—and go exploit tenants. If we don't knock down their arrogance, how can we gain a foothold? Even if some don't deserve to die, what temple doesn't have a few wrongfully killed ghosts?" Growing more animated, he pointed at the refugees in the temple. "Look at these refugees. Hit by disaster, no food to eat—which one isn't their tenant? If we hadn't forced donations out of them, they wouldn't have given a single grain for relief, just waiting for them to live or die on their own. Now we're taking people away, and suddenly they remember—can't do without laborers to work the fields. If they knew it would come to this, why didn't they act earlier?!"

"So I say it can only be an expedient. But in the long run, this approach isn't advisable." Ji Xin didn't argue. He suddenly said: "Liu Xiang, you're county magistrate now. In the future you might be prefect or some other high regional official. Never get the urge to be a righteous judge. China won't succeed by relying on a few righteous judges."

Liu Xiang said nothing. He understood Ji Xin was essentially promoting the "rule of law" line. He didn't oppose that, but it seemed a bit premature to discuss now. He suddenly realized his earlier rhetoric had aligned somewhat with the Superintendent's thinking—so perhaps he really was a revolutionary at heart.

Just as he was thinking, he suddenly saw Yang Yun leading people to distribute rations to refugees: the rations had been upgraded to seafood congee—the traditional nutritious meal from quarantine camps.

"Oh, eating well!" Liu Xiang observed, looking at the refugees' food, and greeted Yang Yun.

"Heh heh, if we don't fatten them up a bit, how can we send them off? Whether by sea or land, it's quite exhausting." Yang Yun pointed at the crowd. "And some children—so skinny, my goodness! Without some nutrition, they'll die before reaching Lingao."

"All that effort, only got a few thousand people. Don't you feel it's a loss..." Liu Xiang ventured to ask Yang Yun.

"This is called pulling the firewood from under the pot. People are one aspect; revolutionizing the landlords is the second." Yang Yun didn't hide it. "You've read the documents, right?"

"Of course, of course," Liu Xiang said. "But I have concerns—isn't this approach too radical?"

Liu Xiang continued inspecting while chatting with Yang Yun on and off, also probing for what was happening in Lingao, especially on the BBS. Being far from the core region, many things could only be guessed from the phrasing in official correspondence. This information asymmetry made Liu Xiang uncomfortable.

Yang Yun smiled. "Things aren't absolute. What the Superintendent wants is simply: sufficient grain, manpower, and strong grassroots control."

Liu Xiang could only say: "Actually, Qiongshan's population isn't really excessive. It could all be absorbed locally..." He decided to first discuss his ideas with Yang Yun.

"Never expected you were also eyeing this labor." Yang Yun heard Liu Xiang explain his plan to apply for transferring some industries to Qiongshan. "But this time, what the Superintendent has his eye on isn't just these tenant farmers—there's also the landlords' surplus grain."

"And I'm afraid, also the landlords with surplus grain," Liu Xiang joked, seemingly casually.