Chapter 2023 - Ruling the World with Commoners

Li Suiqiu had already tasted the sensation of this soft knife slicing flesh. Ever since the "tax commissioner" had arrived days earlier to conduct filings, no peace had settled over the household. When the steward and accountant approached with the Property Declaration Form, their expressions grim, Li Suiqiu's eyes nearly bulged from his skull.

The Declaration Form might as well have been the King of Hell's own ledger. Houses, land, shops—these one could anticipate. But it demanded itemization of annual rent collected measured in shi, income from leased residences, even proceeds from calligraphy commissions. Every conceivable source of revenue found enumeration on this inquisitorial document.

How to declare—the accountant dared not decide independently. He could only "request the master's instructions."

Li Suiqiu found himself speechless. Tell the truth and the hair-thieves would exploit him thoroughly, laying bare his family's complete circumstances. Lie, however... the lessons of recent months loomed all too near.

Moreover, these accountants could not be relied upon. They spoke of "requesting the master's instructions," yet during discussions days earlier they had already shown their cowardice, ceaselessly spouting discouraging platitudes—"when under another's roof," advising him to "report truthfully" to avoid "inviting trouble."

Li Suiqiu could hardly fault them. These past months, during the hair-thieves' tax rectification, countless accountants had been implicated and punished. Fines and dismissals counted as minor consequences; many faced lawsuits and exile. These men shared no blood ties with the family, bore no bonds of deep household gratitude. Naturally they would not risk their lives.

Were he to manage it himself—these accounts, inscrutable as celestial texts, had reportedly been converted to Australian bookkeeping methods. Neither Li Suiqiu nor his brothers understood double-entry or four-column accounting. Even had they wished to falsify records, they lacked the competence.

Left with no alternative, Li Suiqiu could only instruct: "Report truthfully."

"This reporting is no trivial matter," Li Suiqiu added with a bitter smile. "When my accountant paid taxes at the Tax Bureau, the receipt he brought back—my family's land taxes for ten years past wouldn't sum to this amount."

The observation struck a chord. "My household faces the same predicament!"

"My father said if we continue paying taxes at this rate, sooner or later we'll be selling land and property to meet the levy."

"These Australians have commoners shouting 'Long live the Council of Elders' daily. I say 'Long live Taxes' would prove more accurate."

"I've heard this year's land tax collection will introduce new tricks—they speak of 'clarifying mu counts' before levying. Families who commended their land to us have been arriving these past days, begging me to devise some solution. What solution can I possibly devise?"

A heavy silence settled before someone spoke gloomily. "The Australians treat gentry and scholar-officials with such harshness. Surely they don't genuinely intend to share the realm with commoners? I see in Australian gazettes and documents the constant refrain: 'the Council of Elders and the People.' Is not 'the People' simply another name for commoners?"

"Since antiquity, gentry and scholar-officials have formed the foundation of governance. These Australians style themselves Great Song. Even if the claim be false, they should know the Great Song most revered its scholar-officials. Minister Wen declared: 'We rule the world with scholar-officials, not with commoners.' The Council claims Song descent—surely they know this maxim? Yet now they persist in trampling upon scholars and gentry. Can they truly mean to rule the realm with commoners?"

Li Suiqiu spoke quietly. "How many gentry and scholar-officials exist? How many commoners? The hair-thieves' strategy amounts to nothing beyond manipulating those two words: 'popular support.'"

"Though Mencius proclaimed: 'The people are the most important, the state comes next, and the ruler is least'—never in history has governance been shared with commoners. Administering a state, even we who are well-read would not lightly claim to 'comprehend,' much less ordinary commoners who scarcely know their characters."

Li Suiqiu thought privately: since ancient times, those who win the popular heart win the realm. The Australians' actions amounted to nothing beyond this principle. Honestly, Li Suiqiu rather admired these "three strategies." Properly employed, they would naturally bring national peace and popular security. Yet this "suppressing the power of the mighty" perhaps cast too broad a net. He himself, his teachers, his friends—none could reasonably be counted among "the mighty." They merely possessed examination degrees and somewhat more property and land, respectable elder families who treated people well. Now they too had become targets of the hair-thieves' campaign. His displeasure ran deep. Could it be that these hair-thieves, as so many claimed, stood as enemies of the Way, fundamentally intolerant of scholars?

The thought stirred secret worry. Since Guangzhou's fall, the question of where to turn had lingered constantly in his mind. His convictions regarding loyalty and filial piety ran strong; he could not, like others, shut his door and inhabit a "pot-sized world," escaping reality. The humiliation that Ming territory had been usurped by sea pirates weighed upon him perpetually.

Many times the impulse had seized him—to depart Guangzhou, journey to Guangxi or the capital, serve the court, and assist in recovering Guangdong.

Leaving would present no difficulty. The hair-thieves maintained a policy of "go or stay as you please" even for Ming officials who had fallen into their hands locally. For ordinary scholars, still less obstacle existed. Yet he bore responsibility for a large household. His mother had reached advanced age. To abandon his family... it proved truly unbearable.

He collected his thoughts to find the room still immersed in taxation grievances.

"Taxing land and property is one matter, but requiring taxes simply for keeping servants—and 'progressive' taxes at that, rising with numbers maintained—what manner of twisted logic is this? Yesterday I told my father: if they truly impose this, better to release them all, cancel their contracts, and let them beg sustenance from the Australians! In this Great Song realm, even performing good deeds invites heavenly retribution!"

"My household maintains over three hundred servants, yet truly less than half prove useful. Once this tax begins, we'll have no choice but to return contracts and ask them to depart. What pains me are those household-born servants with generations of gratitude binding us. To truly cast them out to fend for themselves feels unbearable."

"My family faces identical circumstances! How many actually prove useful? We simply witnessed children from destitute families who could not survive, sent to seek livelihood—so we took them in."

"Now even charitable acts have become impossible."

"Heh, you still contemplate their livelihood. The hair-thieves have already planned it for them: when entire families fall destitute onto the streets, they'll be gathered and dispatched to Qiongzhou to farm and labor for the Australians. Naturally they'll receive their bowl of rice, tearfully thanking the Council of Elders. How poisonous!"

The meal concluded rather unpleasantly. Though everyone had vented frustrations, no solutions emerged. Resisting taxation proved impossible; they could only respond by paying. As for the hair-thieves—no "sign of defeat" appeared imminent.

Walking from the garden, beyond the gates still stretched the hair-thieves' world. Streets bustled with crowds, many arrogant "fake baldies"—naturalized citizens—among them. Black-clad police patrolled leisurely. Shops hung placards announcing "Newly Arrived Australian Goods." Rickshaws freshly imported from Lingao rang their bells, rushing past. The two-bearer sedan chairs of former times had grown rare.

Walls bore enormous Song-style "slogans," glaring in their redness: "Tax Revenue is National Policy," "Paying Taxes According to Law is Everyone's Responsibility," "New Life, New Days," "Down with All Reactionaries' Plots and Schemes!" "Environmental Hygiene is Everyone's Responsibility," "Guard Against Fire, Theft, and Spies."

He lowered the sedan curtain, unwilling to witness these glaring proclamations. The Australians had expended great capital whitewashing countless street-facing walls with lime, only to smear these phrases across them. Truly wasteful.

Complaining silently throughout the journey, his sedan returned to his residence on Haoxian Street. At home, an atmosphere of peace and quiet prevailed, as though the earth-shaking changes beyond had never occurred, sparing him those glaring slogans and false-baldy men and women in Australian-style garments.

If one could simply bar the door and while away the years, that too might prove acceptable, Li Suiqiu reflected.

Proceeding inward, he encountered a Daoist being escorted out by the steward. Seeing Li Suiqiu, the Daoist hurriedly offered respectful greeting.

Examining him closely, Li Suiqiu recognized Qing Jing, the reception Daoist from Five Immortals Temple. Li Suiqiu normally paid little heed to monks and Daoists, but Qing Jing stood apart—serving as reception Daoist at Five Immortals Temple, Guangzhou's premier Daoist institution. So he extended some courtesy, smiling: "What brings you? Come again to deliver blessings to the old madam?"

After a Jiao ritual concluded, various offerings distributed among participating Daoists were termed "scattering blessings." Temples would dispatch some to connected wealthy households, ostensibly sharing blessings. In reality, it secured gifts—another form of "beating the autumn wind."

Qing Jing smiled. "Our humble temple has held no Jiao recently; no blessings to scatter at present. This humble Daoist comes to invite the old madam to participate in meritorious giving."

Li Suiqiu thought: this Daoist remains unchanged, constant as ever. He remarked: "Is your establishment not now the Australians' Daoist Registry? I've heard several Australian Daoists arrived, preaching Australian Daoism. Does this Australian Daoism also conduct Jiao rituals?"

Qing Jing, as a reception Daoist, possessed quick wits. How could he fail to detect the mockery in Master Li's words? He smiled apologetically. "You jest, Master. What Australian Daoism or Ming Daoism? We worship the Three Pure Ones, Four Emperors, and Celestial Officials of Luotian all the same. Last year, by Prefect Liu's mandate, we conducted an eighteen-day salvation Jiao. This time, a donor wishes to hold a Blessing and Peace Jiao. The abbot declares this a rare auspicious occasion and wishes to invite all masters throughout Guangzhou to participate in meritorious giving."

"Oh? Which master sponsors this Blessing and Peace Jiao?" Li Suiqiu inquired casually.

"This time it is Master Zhang who wishes to hold the Jiao..."

"Master Zhang? Which Master Zhang?"

"The proprietor of Zhang's Food Company, Zhang Yu... Master Zhang."

"What? Zhang Yu?" Li Suiqiu smiled wordlessly. Indeed—this young manager of a tea-snack shop, worthless three years past, had somehow latched onto the hair-thieves' substantial patronage and suddenly prospered. Now he numbered among those openly addressed as "Master," the hottest figure in the city. Forget a mere Daoist—even Gao Ju, the Australians' former premier collaborator, now politely addressed him as "Brother Zhang" upon meeting. Not something ordinary people could aspire to.

"Precisely, Master Zhang." Qing Jing proceeded to explain the Australians' matchmaking event and collective wedding ceremony.

"You see, is this not an auspicious occasion? Therefore Master Zhang has stepped forward, requesting our temple to conduct a three-day Blessing Jiao, praying for blessings and offspring for the newlyweds."