Chapter 1966 - An Auspicious Start

Spring in Guangzhou brought warmth and radiance; even in the Little Ice Age's early morning, Zhang Xiaoqi felt none of the lingering chill she would have experienced back home. She strolled behind the counters of the Guangzhou Municipal Finance and Tax Bureau's tax collection hall, dusting cloth in hand. Her navy blue uniform fit crisply, the metal tax emblem gleaming on her chest. The orderly desks, the neatly positioned stacks of tax receipts—everything before her eyes evoked the collection hall where she'd worked for over a decade in the old timeline, momentarily transporting her back. Beyond the windows, young women mopped the floor—or more precisely, the tax cadres of the Australian Song Guangzhou Special Municipality Finance and Tax Bureau's Tax Collection Hall. The entire hall had been thoroughly scrubbed the previous night; this morning's effort was merely routine, yet the young women still meticulously attended to every corner. The main doors stood open, their glass panes so transparent they seemed nonexistent, and the "Tax Guide Desk" facing the entrance gleamed spotlessly.

Today will be an auspicious opening, Zhang Xiaoqi thought confidently, gazing outside. Beyond the iron railings at the foot of the steps clustered a crowd of "tax payment enthusiasts." Ai Zhixin had originally planned to conduct a "tax payment mobilization" through the municipal government for the Guangzhou Federation of Industry and Commerce, recruiting several major households to pay taxes first and set the trend. Unexpectedly, the moment news spread, the Federation's established moneybags "participated enthusiastically." Several merchant princes reportedly fought tooth and nail over who would secure the first Australian Song tax receipt, even privately dispatching intermediaries to pull strings—all of whom Ai Zhixin deftly evaded.

Unable to leverage connections, they'd dispatched sharp-witted servants and accounting masters to queue early and "cautiously report." Now these representatives formed a self-conscious semicircle at a polite distance, pointing and commenting on the young women mopping the steps.

New Australian government offices were hardly novelties, and Australian female clerks and cadres had become familiar sights throughout Guangzhou—everyone had witnessed female constables as well. But today's scene possessed peculiar qualities. Everyone knew this "Finance and Tax Bureau" was merely the renamed Tax Office, yet the bizarre rumor held that the collectors in this Australian Tax Office were exclusively young women in their prime—dozens packed into one room without a single man, and even the supervisor was an Australian woman! Wild speculation ran rampant that any female who passed through Australian hands, no matter how common or plain before, would transform into a stunning beauty after their training. Now, with so many Australian-flavored women visible at once, considerable numbers of idlers and loafers throughout the city had infiltrated the crowd to witness this exotic spectacle.

Watching these young women busily working on the steps—each possessing bright eyes and white teeth, their fitted clothing accentuating graceful curves... some wore twin braids, others gathered their hair in neat buns without a strand out of place, and a few had simply cut their hair short—adding an unmistakable air of capability and sharpness. A distinctly Australian flavor indeed.

As the appreciative clicking of tongues grew louder, Zhang Xiaoqi frowned and stepped outside. These Ming locals share the same proclivities as Lingao's cruder elements, she thought irritably. The young women today are wearing long sleeves and long trousers, fully covered—no miniskirts or tank tops. What's prompting all this tongue-clicking? Standing at the doorway and tracing the gleaming-eyed gazes of several men, Zhang Xiaoqi suddenly realized she'd overlooked a significant problem. She'd focused on guarding against Ai Zhixin's lecherous schemes to convert long skirts to short ones, forgetting that compared to the pleated skirts used by military and police systems, these impeccably tailored trousers her subordinates wore proved even more provocative to Great Ming sensibilities. Those men's eyes constantly wandered over the waists and hips of the floor-mopping young women...

Women in this timeline, even laboring women, didn't venture out wearing trousers alone—even when farm women worked the fields, they wrapped a short "work apron" around their waists. Removing the skirt and wearing only trousers was attire reserved for the boudoir. For the common folk of this era, the spectacle before them was no less scandalous than "No Pants Day" in the old timeline.

Never mind! This counted as setting a trend. Zhang Xiaoqi steeled herself—better than letting Ai Zhixin convert to thigh-exposing short skirts in a few years.

During her "patient guidance" of Nan Wan'er these past few days, she'd detected no "improper" advances from Ai Zhixin. Nevertheless, feminine intuition convinced her that Ai Zhixin harbored designs on the young woman.

Originally this wasn't her concern. Setting Ai Zhixin aside, male transmigrators throughout Wudaokou hooking up with female clerks occurred with some regularity. She'd merely scoffed when such news reached her, at most intensifying Wang Qiyi's educational sessions at night.

But Nan Wan'er alone evoked an inexplicable affection in her. She worried constantly about the young woman being claimed by some crude fellow... especially this slick Ai Zhixin. He already had two or three attractive young women at his side, yet still pursued Nan Wan'er!

"Chief, cleaning is complete. Should we open the doors?" Nan Wan'er approached to report.

Zhang Xiaoqi checked her watch. "A few minutes remaining—no rush. We open on schedule. Gather everyone; I have some words."

Within moments, the tax collectors assembled around her.

"Today marks our first official collection day." Zhang Xiaoqi's gaze swept across the flushed-cheeked female tax collectors. "Everything that needed teaching has been taught. Processing taxes isn't difficult—just remember 'follow regulations' and 'precision in every detail'!"

The young women nodded in unison.

"Remember at all times: when you collect taxes here, you represent the Executive Committee, you represent the government. You are 'gathering wealth for the state.' No one may question or negate your decisions. Your word is final. Understood?"

"Understood!"

"Similarly, remember always to follow regulations—regardless of whether you personally consider a regulation reasonable. That is not your concern. Our work is extremely serious and permits no omissions or favoritism."

Finishing, Zhang Xiaoqi commanded: "Open the doors!"

"Hiss... that woman—truly skin like fresh snow!"

"Eyes so large, so deep—must be a Colored-Eye person..."

"Quiet yourselves, you fools! This is a genuine Australian Chief. Mind your mouths before they bring trouble!"

Zhang Xiaoqi's appearance sparked another commotion in the crowd; many stood on stools and folding chairs to glimpse what a genuine Australian woman looked like.

Today's errand shouldn't have required his personal attendance. In the past, which of those tax runners and clerks had dared to trouble him? A few coins from his subordinates would have sent them packing.

He understood the Master's reasoning: To curry favor with the Australians, one must accommodate their practices in everything. Now that these Australians were contending for the Central Plains, success was merely a matter of will, not capability. Since Guangzhou opened its gates, the Master had fawned over the Australians with increasing fervor. But the Australians didn't adopt the attitude of relying on the Master as a backer or instrument as they had previously. Though they showed adequate respect within the Federation of Industry and Commerce, they treated him as simply another merchant of their own—which disappointed the Master greatly.

This time, Master Gao had not only dispatched him to queue early and secure a place but also sent Advisor Xu along to ensure absolute success. Racing to pay taxes to the government like this—Yan Xiaomao had truly never witnessed such behavior.

Observing this "hall," square and upright like a box, Steward Yan somehow thought of a coffin. Throughout the journey, Advisor Xu had been muttering about the oppressive yin energy emanating from a room packed with women, souring his mood further.

Just as these thoughts occupied him, a squad of soldiers and police came running with barriers and cloth strips, positioning the small barriers in rows on the ground and connecting them with fabric all the way to the main doors atop the steps. Steward Yan's mind raced and he immediately grasped the purpose. Australians loved queuing and loved making others queue; they probably decided the crowd warranted an orderly channel. So he rose from his seat, grabbed Advisor Xu who remained absorbed in spectating, and squeezed toward the central barrier opening. Yan Xiaomao's guess proved correct—Ai Zhixin and Wang Qiyi had just emerged outside the hall, observed the swelling crowd containing many idle spectators beyond the merchants summoned to pay taxes today, and immediately coordinated a National Army squad and a small patrol police unit to maintain order, establishing a preliminary checkpoint below the steps to filter out the curious onlookers.

Just past eight o'clock, at the police whistle's signal, Steward Yan and Advisor Xu shuffled along the channel delineated by barriers and cloth strips toward the steps. He left the servants behind to watch the equipment they'd brought for queueing. The Australians prohibited non-taxpayers from entering; Steward Yan, well-versed in their temperament, naturally complied. Fortunately, his sharp eyes and quick feet had secured the first position, and the channel proved short, making the walk tolerable. Advisor Jiang from the adjacent channel wasn't so fortunate; having brought too many servants, he was summarily ordered to leave and queue again.

Ascending the steps and entering through the main doors, he encountered a waist-high desk arranged with impeccable order, holding several stacks of documents in various sizes, the Four Treasures of the Study, and an Australian "fountain pen." These Australians were amusing, he reflected—the pen was clearly fashioned from bamboo and wood, yet they insisted on calling it a "steel" pen—supposedly the nib was steel. The female clerk seated behind the desk, however, possessed delicate features, her autumn-water eyes glancing about enchantingly—though the austere official uniform she wore rather spoiled the effect, Yan Xiaomao lamented privately. This female clerk—or rather, female cadre—spoke with neither servility nor arrogance, yet quite courteously. After verifying his documents, she indicated a window behind her marked with Arabic numerals and directed him to queue there.