Chapter 1987 - First Team Meeting

Following the meeting, Wang Qiyi led Zeng Juan, Yao Yulan, and Huang Ping directly to Room 114. Surveying the office's bright windows and orderly desks, Zeng Juan experienced an indescribable emotional complexity. Regarding knowledge, the Chiefs commanded encyclopedic expertise—astronomy above, geography below, even recounting trivial details of barbarianmarriages thousands of li distant with casual familiarity.

Days ago, he'd overheard Director Zhang and Director Nan chatting with a cluster of female Tax Hall colleagues about the Jianzhou Jurchens. Apparently, a woman from the Mongol Khorchin tribe named Da Yu'er—thirteen years old in the fifth year of Tianqi under the Usurper Ming—had married Jianzhou Jurchen leader Huang Taiji as a concubine, bearing him three daughters. Though this woman was merely a concubine to the slave chieftain, she'd been childhood sweethearts with Huang Taiji's fourteenth brother, Dorgon. Yet worldly circumstances proved unpredictable, and paternal commands brooked no defiance—the lovers could only exchange speechless glances upon meeting. But that wasn't the end: Da Yu'er's elder sister Harjol had also been taken into Huang Taiji's palace two years prior (1634) and enjoyed considerable favor... These boudoir intrigues were recounted with such meticulous detail, spoken with such logical coherence, as though the women had witnessed events personally. Even housewives gossiping by the communal well didn't achieve such encyclopedic prattle.

Gossip was one matter. But the Chiefs' general demeanor differed little from common villagers. Even Director Zhang walked with a martial swagger devoid of the gentleness expected from wives and mothers. Just now at the meeting, Director Ai had chopped his hand down with fierce emphasis, ordering them to "investigate to death"—murderous intent permeating every syllable, utterly lacking the composure expected from superiors. Zeng Juan suspected even the old fiends from traditional yamen wouldn't display such coarseness.

Xu Zhewei and Chu Xiaoran arrived with commendable speed. Both had received notification only temporarily and appeared somewhat disoriented as they settled. Wang Qiyi distributed the case files, instructed Zeng Juan to brief them on the basic situation, then closed his eyes to rest privately.

Several days ago, he'd met individually with Guangzhou's principal leaders to discuss case handling approaches. Generally speaking, their perspectives fell within expectations: one faction favored "weaving crimes, haggling over every detail"; another advocated "acting strictly according to law, avoiding wide implication." Finally came Liu Xiang, whose opinion embodied the "Golden Mean." This wasn't political slickness—he hoped to strike hard against gentry and major household power while avoiding excessive harsh laws and severe punishments that might damage market vitality and economic dynamism. After all, economic improvement constituted his primary mandate.

Even within the Finance and Tax Bureau, Wang Qiyi's views diverged from Ai Zhixin's. Ai insisted on positioning the Bureau as a violent enforcement organ—the manifestation of state power, ensuring public compliance through rigid management. Regarding Case 712 specifically, Ai hoped to leverage this opportunity to deliver severe warnings to Guangzhou's major households. Even those uninvolved should feel the warning—"beating the grass to startle the snake"—letting these people who hadn't truly experienced consequences since the Senate's arrival understand proper submissive behavior. His so-called "breach one point to expose an entire network" actually intended massive implication among merchants, particularly major households.

However, according to the financial behaviors in Great Ming commerce that Wang Qiyi had learned through field census work, reality proved far more intricate than anticipated. Mutual lending and shareholding arrangements proliferated like ox hairs. Though Finance and Tax Bureau management was already extensively rough, it couldn't withstand merchants being even more "extensive." If they genuinely pursued one thread to investigate an entire network, every merchant large and small in Guangzhou would face ruin—the strike surface was simply too broad. Deterrence would certainly be achieved, but they'd simultaneously scare numerous industrial and commercial households into closing and fleeing.

Wang Qiyi believed the Finance and Tax Bureau in this spacetime plane shouldered far more than simple Finance Bureau plus Tax Bureau responsibilities. As the Senate's sole social economic management organ, it should emphasize "reasoning." Beyond taxation, the Bureau's critical function was managing economic order effectively and cultivating tax sources. "Dig a large pond to raise healthy fish"—that too was among their duties. Guangzhou's fiscal revenue already possessed guarantees. Tormenting the entire cohort of major households to death was genuinely unnecessary. Establishing select examples to "kill chickens frightening monkeys" would suffice. Moreover, the Senate had governed Guangzhou merely one year—indigenous people's comprehension of various policies remained severely limited. They deserved not only warnings but also buffers, opportunities for self-correction and active alignment with Senate directives. Courtesy before force.

These differences remained tolerable—hidden, after all. Before the second quarter collection period commenced, Zhang Xiaoqi had returned to Lingao to attend to children and summarize Guangzhou experiences for perfecting fiscal systems across Hainan Grand Region governments. Ai Zhixin had also departed for Lingao according to schedule for Administration Council questioning regarding the Guangzhou Municipal Tax Sharing/Grading Pilot Plan. Wang Qiyi himself had shamelessly insisted on accompanying his wife to "visit home," directly resulting in the Guangzhou Finance and Tax Bureau's Senator team being utterly vacant for over a week—truly offending Ai Zhixin, who'd originally intended for Wang to remain stationed in Guangzhou, not lightly. Since returning, Director Ai's expression had been notably sour, his smiles consistently forced.

A tangled mess... Wang Qiyi rubbed his temples. Transmigration, transmigration—what difference did transmigration actually make? He'd thought being a superior would require less mental and physical exertion. Instead, matters involving people, money, and resources generated identical friction, actually harder to manage than the old timeline. Back then, at least everyone understood tacit conventions and observed baselines. This bunch of crude blanks in Lingao genuinely dared mount direct confrontations... He glanced up, finding everyone else silently reviewing files, and smiled wryly again.

Superiors proved difficult to handle. Subordinates weren't easy either. An unsuccessful scholar from the old era, a refugee without family, a widow dragging a daughter, a former indigenous resistance fighter against "Government Army," plus a loyal informant... Also three men and two women. Truly a god-matched ensemble. Pity if Hollywood doesn't film this as a series.

Big pit. Enormous pit. His finger traced gentle circles on the teacup handle while his mind calculated deployment strategies. Though these few represented the best personnel he could muster, their quality was hardly reassuring. Age alone: except Chu Xiaoran being slightly older, the others were all bratty youth around twenty. He could only hope they wouldn't become temperamental and create massive disasters that would ruin their entire lives.

Steady. Steadiness should take priority. Wang Qiyi suddenly recalled a phrase from BBS posts back in Lingao: "Build hard stockades, fight dull battles." Appropriate advice for this situation.

"Everyone's reviewed the case files?" Wang Qiyi straightened, scanning the room. The décor reminded him intensely of the old timeline—he seemed to recover the sensation of grassroots secondment assignments. "Currently you're unfamiliar with the case and unfamiliar with each other. My requirements for today's work: first, read the file thoroughly; second, communicate extensively among yourselves, not merely about the case. Since you'll be partnering for these months, I don't want you remaining nodding acquaintances when disbanding at the end. Understood?"

"Understood, Director Wang!" Five people rose in unison.

"Sit, sit, sit—we're discussing case details, not convening a Loyalty Declaration Assembly." Wang Qiyi truly harbored no affection for this protocol naturalized citizens particularly favored. Which fellow invented it? "I'll arrange assignments briefly. Xu Zhewei..."

"Here!"

"Sit down, sit down!" Wang Qiyi covered his face helplessly, spreading in his chair. Military training effect is too effective. "Listen—in this room, regardless of who speaks what, you're forbidden from such startled reactions, understand? ...Yao Yulan, what are you doing? Sit down!"

Hearing Wang Qiyi's words, Yao Yulan reflexively began rising, then was forcibly interrupted. For a moment she remained half-bowed, buttocks protruding, hands pressed on the table—neither standing nor sitting.

"...Sit quickly, sit quickly." Seeing her awkward position, Wang Qiyi urgently gestured for her to resume sitting.

"Hahahaha—" Xu Zhewei led the laughter; the others joined with lighter chuckles. The atmosphere instantly harmonized considerably.

Seeing Yao Yulan settle back, Huang Ping beside her hastily pushed her stool forward as well. "It's fine, sit down." Noticing Yao Yulan's entire face flushed crimson, he hurried to reassure her. "Everyone's relieved Director Wang said no more of that protocol in future. It's not directed at you."

"Before you review case documents, I'll spend a few minutes simply discussing certain tax-related details involved in this investigation. You're encountering such cases for the first time—I fear some concepts may not be comprehended deeply."

The off-duty whistle had sounded twice, yet Wang Qiyi continued talking without pause, gesticulating flamboyantly before the presentation board. His so-called "simple discussion" had persisted five hours—from afternoon work commencement until now. The five naturalized citizen cadres below dared not doze, but their expressions of blank incomprehension demonstrated Wang Qiyi's impassioned "guidance" had transformed their brains to paste.

"Remember—the meaning of Deemed Sales of Goods involves collecting payment or issuing receipts to purchasers..." Wang Qiyi completely disregarded his subordinates' numb expressions, growing increasingly animated. After seven or eight years of transmigration, his conversations had been broad and comprehensive; training classes taught only foundational knowledge. Never before had he experienced such utterly satisfying business discussion. This time he was finally refreshed—caring not whether they could actually understand.

Bang bang bang.

"Come in!"

"Director Wang, the canteen's begun serving meals. Should we send yours here like noon?"

"Fine." Wang Qiyi raised his hand, checking his watch. "Goodness, so late. Notify them—send it quickly."

"Understood."

Zeng Juan's dinner proceeded as silently as lunch. The others followed suit. Only sounds of chewing rice and sipping soup filled the room. Director Wang's authoritative bearing hung there—no one dared speak or move rashly. Plus the Chief himself wasn't particularly adept at conversation. Several attempted conversation topics intended to lighten the atmosphere ended anticlimactically, rendering things more awkward instead.

"Alright, eat slowly. I'm heading to the training class." Wang Qiyi possessed self-awareness—he shoveled random mouthfuls of rice, considering the meal concluded. "Understand what you can from this afternoon's lecture; don't take it to heart. Primary goal is perceptual familiarity. Like this—Team Leader Zeng..." Wang Qiyi rose and patted Zeng Juan, closest to him. "Watch the time. When appropriate, let everyone return to rest. No tasks tonight."

(End of Chapter)