Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Xie Shuli, a native of Anqiu County, showed a look of delight upon hearing the land tax figures. Having dealt extensively with the farmers, he naturally understood how pleased they would be to pay only thirty percent of the land tax.

However, when he opened the official document sent down from his superiors, his expression changed drastically.

This—this was clearly a reprimand.

When Ma Shuli and Master Fan arrived, their faces were equally grim. They had hurried over upon hearing that the upper authorities had released the land tax figures, only to find the documents were like this.

The Household Department of Quxia Prefecture was questioning them.

This year, the average summer wheat yield in other counties of Quxia Prefecture was basically around 290 jin per mu, so why was Anqiu County’s only 250 jin?

Was it because the new county magistrate was negligent in his duties, failing to encourage farming?

In short, the yield was far too low! They must pay attention!

The Household Department also urged him to take his responsibilities seriously; last year he had just arrived and avoided the year-end assessment, but this year there was no escaping it.

“That can’t be right. Our Anqiu County had a bumper harvest this year; the average yield should be around 340 jin. So why does the report say only 250 jin?” Ma Shuli asked.

He was usually very smooth-talking; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been the first to ally himself with the new county magistrate. Now, he openly voiced his doubts, let alone the others.

Ji Chu looked around at everyone present. There was no need to mention Master Li and his nephew Ji Zhen—they were his trusted aides. Then there was Master Fan, Xie Shuli, and Ma Shuli, all locals of Anqiu County, now in his service, so there was no need to hide anything.

“If we report the average yield in the usual way, how much land tax should be paid on the 310,000 mu of farmland recorded in our county’s accounts?”

The ledger showed 310,000 mu of land.

Everyone’s eyes flickered nervously.

It seemed this was an open secret.

By past calculations, the 310,000 mu of land at an average yield of 340 jin per mu should have produced 31.62 million jin of grain for tax.

Ji Chu wrote down this figure and then another: “According to the actual 160,000 mu of cultivated land here, with a yield of 340 jin per mu, the actual output is this.”

54.4 million jin of grain.

Using the grain from 160,000 mu to pay the tax for 310,000 mu.

No wonder the local taxation was so heavy.

The grain actually produced had to be taken at sixty percent just to cover the deficit of the fallow land.

“So I assigned the average yield to the wasteland,” Ji Chu said with some regret. “Originally, I wanted to report an average yield of 170 jin, but that number would surely be scrutinized, so I settled on 250 jin.”

After all, last year’s average yield was 280 jin.

Even reporting 250 jin was a bit low, yet the authorities insisted they pay as if it were 260 jin.

Everyone understood now.

At 260 jin per mu, the land tax Anqiu County had to pay this year should be 24.18 million jin.

That was 7.44 million jin less than the official figure.

Anqiu County had fewer than 30,000 people, so on average, each person paid 260 jin less grain in tax.

That was a considerable amount.

Yet even so, this year’s local land tax still accounted for 40 to 50 percent of the actual grain production.

Basically, for every 100 jin of grain your family produced, 45 jin had to be given to the court.

For Ji Chu, this tax burden was clearly excessive.

So he adjusted the accounts, changing some winter wheat fields to spring wheat, deferring those taxes to autumn.

This was also why his superiors were dissatisfied with him.

Everywhere else experienced bumper harvests, but only Anqiu County saw a drop in yield.

Other places increased their cultivated land, but the county under his charge showed idle fields.

All told, the summer harvest tax from Anqiu County was only around 15 million jin, with another 5 million jin deferred to autumn. Was that acceptable?

Judging only from these official documents, one might think Magistrate Ji was incompetent, new to his post.

But everyone present knew the truth: Ji Chu had done a great deal, and this year Anqiu County’s average yield exceeded other parts of Quxia Prefecture by 50 jin.

During that time, Ji Chu was busy with exactly this.

It felt no different from the myth of Nuwa mending the heavens.

Who could blame him when the local fallow land was so outrageously unproductive?

If before local officials wanted everything—impressive figures of land reclamation and high average yields, each year presenting the best results to their superiors—Ji Chu wanted none of that.

He wanted no inflated reclamation numbers, no embellished averages.

Though Anqiu County’s real average yield this year was 340 jin, he deliberately reported only 250.

Had he reported the actual yield, he would have scored top marks in his annual evaluation.

That would have been beneficial for his future transfers and promotions.

Yet he suppressed his achievements and even deferred part of the summer harvest tax to autumn.

Everyone knew this was to alleviate the burden on the local people, planning to collect the shortfall from the rapeseed crops.

Given the condition of the rapeseed fields now, by autumn, that would be a negligible amount.

For the people, this was a blessing.

For him, it was a great disaster.

The words from his superiors in the documents were blunt, almost accusing Magistrate Ji of incompetence.

What unsettled them even more was the next sentence.

This year’s assessment.

“How will you handle the year-end assessment?” Xie Shuli could not help but ask.

Mentioning the assessment, Master Fan also realized: “Yes, the average yields elsewhere in Quxia Prefecture are about 290 jin, but we reported only 250 and even deferred part of the summer tax. Your evaluation this year will definitely have problems.”

It was early June now; the assessment was looming in September or October.

Three years as county magistrate meant three assessments; missing out on a top rating meant fewer chances for transfer or promotion.

Moreover, Magistrate Ji was only a graduate student; his opportunities for advancement were even fewer.

It wasn’t that they looked down on him, but they worried for him.

Seeing the mixed expressions of the men, Ji Chu smiled and asked, “If I sacrifice a top rating, and each local person pays 260 jin less grain, do you think it’s not worth it?”

It was definitely worth it.

Even though they were officials, different in status from ordinary people, they knew that reducing so much grain tax was a matter of life and death for the locals.

But who had ever been willing to do this before?

Ji Chu shook his head. “Don’t look at me like that. If I lose a top rating and with it all chances for advancement in this life, then it just means my abilities are limited.”

“Once the local accounts are balanced, then we will talk about gaining glory.”

He would never regret the choice he made.

A so-called top rating, an evaluation from above, could not sway his convictions, let alone his actions.

Compared to so-called honor and future prospects, ensuring the people of Anqiu County had enough to eat was far more important.

He was born in a time and place where everyone was treated as human.

Was he to accept that just because he had crossed into another era, they should be regarded as nothing more than grass?

Ji Chu felt he could not do that. He was not entirely selfless, but he truly could not bear to take the majority of the grain his people had painstakingly harvested.

“Enough, the tax figures have come down now; it’s time for the summer harvest,” Ji Chu sighed.

Based on the total given, he distributed the amount fairly over the actual cultivated land and gave the figures to Master Fan to collect the grain.

This year’s summer tax must be collected.

One hundred and two jin of grain per mu, or three hundred and fifty wen in silver.

Payment could be made in grain or silver.

Master Fan received the orders and immediately dispatched people to carry them out.

Collecting the grain tax was a major event every year.

The entire government office bustled with activity.

With such a large reduction in land tax this year, collection should be much easier!

Last year, with a yield of 280 jin per mu, the tax was 168 jin.

This year, with an average yield of 340 jin, the tax was only 102 jin.

What a bargain!

After everyone left, Ji Chu took a deep breath and sighed again upon returning to the inner chambers.

Despite others’ joy, Ji Chu was not happy.

Three hundred and forty jin yield, collecting 102 jin.

How was that a bargain?

Some of the tax had even been forcibly deferred to reach this figure.

The people suffer in flourishing times; the people suffer in hard times.

Even someone as optimistic as him found it hard to smile.

“Darling?” Tao Lewei put down her pen, puzzled. “What’s wrong with you?”

He usually wore a smile, but today was different.

The little wolf cub raised in their courtyard approached as well. It had been severely injured before, and though half a year had passed, it had not grown much, wandering between the two of them.

Ji Chu was brought back to himself by his wife and the cub and said, “I was thinking about the summer harvest.”

“Isn’t the summer harvest good this year?” Tao Lewei said as she brought over some newly purchased honey from the kitchen. “I heard from the locals this is their easiest time of year.”

Ji Chu listened as she continued, “They say even if they pay 200 jin of grain, they can still keep over 100 jin themselves. That’s much better than before; they can survive the year.”

“How much tax did they actually pay?” Ji Chu asked in surprise.

A bit over 200 jin.

Every year, the farmers naturally discussed the grain tax among themselves.

They had farmed their whole lives and knew the better the harvest, the more tax had to be paid.

By past standards, this year’s tax should be about 200 jin per mu.

Last year, with an average yield of 280 jin, they paid 168 jin and kept 110 jin.

This year, with an average yield over 340 jin, paying 200 jin still left over 140 jin.

Moreover, the rapeseed was growing remarkably well.

When they sold the rapeseed in September, they would have enough money for the winter.

Tao Lewei said earnestly, “With a good official like you, their lives will surely improve.”

“Look, this is the new honey from here. When I went to buy it, they said the honey from the rapeseed fields brings in extra income.”

Tao’s words were usually few, but seeing Ji Chu’s troubled expression, she tried hard to find a topic.

Ji Chu looked at his wife, gently smoothing her hair, feeling some of his gloom lift, and asked, “Will they be content with this?”

“They work so hard every year growing grain, yet most of it isn’t theirs,” he added.

Tao Lewei was a bit puzzled. “Isn’t this how everyone lives? It’s the way of life. There’s food and drink, no great disasters, and they can get by.”

“Even the hardest times can be overcome.”

Only then did Ji Chu smile—a light, relaxed smile, his dark pupils softening.

Yes.

They could get through it.

No matter how difficult the challenge, it could be overcome.

Why should he worry? The days ahead would only get better.

He drank the honey water and said, “The summer tax this year isn’t 200 jin.”

“It’s 103 jin.”

Tao Lewei, born of a farming family, was more shocked than delighted, then let out the bright smile of a twenty-year-old girl. “The locals will surely be very happy.”

Half the tax they expected!

This year’s granaries might not be empty after all.

Watching his wife’s joy, Ji Chu felt his troubles melt away and patted the little wolf cub’s head.

The tax would be even less. It had to be.

In the countryside fields of Anqiu County, good news flew like wings to every household.

In such a year of bounty, the tax was even lower than last year!

Not the 200 jin they expected.

Only 103 jin!

Half as much!

This year, it seemed, they could finally eat their fill.

They could eat the grain they themselves had grown.