The next morning, Du Heng fussed about in front of the bronze mirror for a long time and still had not gone to eat breakfast.
Qin Xiaoman had been sleeping soundly, but there were faint noises in the room for quite a while. He frowned and climbed out of bed, only to see that Du Heng still had not gone to the front hall for work.
“What are you fiddling around with there? At this hour you still aren’t going to the office?”
Du Heng turned his head, bit his lower lip, and pushed it with his tongue.
“Look at what you did.”
Qin Xiaoman looked at the area below the lip where the blade had nicked him yesterday. It had already turned a deep purple. He had not expected it to bruise so badly.
But hearing Du Heng say that made him unhappy. “How is that my fault? If you want to blame someone, blame your precious eldest son.”
“Be it my precious eldest son or my good husband,” Du Heng said, “with my face looking like this, how am I supposed to go to the yamen?”
He walked over and sat down by the bed. Magistrate Du cherished his appearance very much.
Seeing his displeased expression, Qin Xiaoman reached out and cupped Du Heng’s face, then leaned in close.
The wound from yesterday throbbed faintly.
“If anyone asks,” Qin Xiaoman said casually, “you might as well say I bit you.”
Du Heng pouted. Sure enough, in this world, thin-skinned people were the ones who suffered.
“If those old foxes hear that,” he said, “won’t they immediately send a few people over to attend to you? Are you sure you want me to say that?”
Qin Xiaoman flipped the quilt up and wrapped himself back into the bed. “Sure. That’d be great. I don’t have much to do at home anyway. A couple of people coming every morning to greet me, pinch my legs, pound my shoulders, and at night wash my feet—sounds perfect.”
Du Heng, still not quite satisfied, bent down and pecked Qin Xiaoman on the cheek. “All of that, I can do myself. No need for others to worry about it.”
“I’m going to the yamen.”
After the sound of footsteps faded away, Qin Xiaoman climbed out of bed again. Watching the figure beneath the corridor eaves outside the window, he could not help but smile.
That morning, everyone in the front hall greeted Du Heng, but he did not respond verbally—only pressed his lips together and nodded.
He turned straight around and dove into the Administrative Hall, leaving everyone utterly baffled.
Today’s county magistrate seemed a bit aloof.
After rummaging through county records in the Administrative Hall for a long while, Du Heng found he could no longer stew alone and finally summoned Jiang Qi inside.
Jiang Qi had not been called by Du Heng for most of the day and had almost thought he had fallen out of favor. The moment he heard Du Heng calling for him, he dashed eagerly into the Administrative Hall.
“Sir, your mouth—”
Before he could finish, Du Heng shot him a glare. “I nicked it with a blade while washing my face yesterday. What are you shouting about!”
Jiang Qi hurriedly clapped a hand over his own mouth.
The magistrate was rather tsundere.
“This time, being able to successfully invite Madam Tang,” Du Heng said, “I know it was thanks to your efforts.”
Hearing this, Jiang Qi immediately perked up like a happy little lapdog, completely forgetting the scolding he had just received.
Unable to suppress his delight—though as the county magistrate’s registrar he ought to devote himself wholeheartedly regardless—who would not be pleased to receive direct praise?
Still, he said modestly, “This subordinate merely mentioned it in passing to Madam Tang. Her willingness to come was mainly because she was moved by Your Excellency’s benevolent, fatherly heart toward the young master.”
Du Heng smiled faintly.
“Jiang Qi, though you are young, you handle matters cleverly and with care. In the future, I can entrust many things to you with ease.”
Buoyed by the praise, Jiang Qi felt light as air. “Being able to serve at Your Excellency’s side is already the greatest blessing for this subordinate. If I were to handle matters poorly, how could I be worthy of Your Excellency’s regard? I will certainly devote myself fully.”
Du Heng tapped lightly on the desk and looked at Jiang Qi with a meaningful gaze. “Since that is so, and since you too come from a farming household, let me ask you this: what the old farmer we met that day in Ganqiao Village said—was there something more behind it?”
Jiang Qi froze at once, suddenly regretting how boldly he had spoken earlier.
Seeing Du Heng’s half-smiling expression, he replied stiffly, “Those widowed old farmers in the countryside haven’t read much and don’t understand principles. At the slightest inconvenience they complain about the court and the local gentry. That’s nothing unusual.”
Du Heng nodded with a shallow smile. “You are hiding things from me as well?”
Jiang Qi opened his mouth, but in the end, being newly come into officialdom and not smooth enough yet, he did not know how to gloss things over. Besides, he did not wish to deceive Du Heng.
“When I was studying in my earlier years,” Du Heng continued calmly, “my husband and I also lived in the countryside—hoeing fields, farming, harvesting crops, paying taxes. I know all the ways of it.”
That year, there was an abundant autumn harvest. When it came time to pay taxes, the yamen runners arrived, swaggering and showing off their power. Qin Xiaoman spoke gently and even gave them a fair amount of ‘hardship money.’ Seeing his initiative and respectful manner, the runners did not further make trouble.
Later, once Du Heng had gained some scholarly credentials, each year grew easier, and naturally he no longer saw the ugly faces of the yamen runners.
Their family escaped such filth because of the civil service examinations, but in those two years, the villagers from the same village were still suffering the same exploitation. After the autumn taxes were paid, the village was invariably full of curses.
In truth, the so-called hardship money was not very different from the levies collected by the court. The difference was only that the former was not aboveboard, while the latter followed imperial statute.
County yamen officials were not paid much. Even a county magistrate like him received only seven shi of grain per month—converted by grain prices, roughly five to eight taels of silver.
At first glance, it seemed like a decent sum, but when it came to being an official, how could one support an entire household on that alone, much less maintain the dignity expected of an official family?
It was barely enough for daily expenses, let alone social obligations, caring for subordinates, or contributing upward.
When silver was not enough, one naturally had to find other ways to make money. That was when many officials fell into the pit of corruption.
Had his family not engaged in a bit of business before he entered officialdom, managing shops and livelihoods, they too would have lived in straitened poverty.
But not all officials had the same luck or ability to run businesses and earn silver. Compared to managing trade, accepting offerings from local gentry and merchants was quicker and easier.
So long as it did not touch the fundamentals—so long as it was not like Jiang Zuowu, who forcibly extorted money using his official authority—accepting more valuable gifts on festivals or birthdays would not draw severe punishment from the court. At most, it damaged one’s reputation, affecting prospects during major selections for promotion.
Thus, when common people wanted officials to handle matters, they would slip them some money to make things smoother. When officials proactively helped the people, they likewise expected some hardship money in return.
It almost became an unwritten rule. The court turned a blind eye, and the people subconsciously understood it as well. For a time, it was impossible to trace the origins or clearly judge who was at fault, or who had created the present situation.
With the broader environment being this way, as long as a relative balance was maintained, officials and common people could coexist peacefully. But inevitably, there were officials who did not know contentment and pressed harder, exploiting more on that basis. Once the balance tipped, one side would become extremely dissatisfied, and peace could no longer be maintained.
Seeing that Du Heng was speaking to him with complete sincerity, Jiang Qi paused, then said, “Just as Your Excellency said. In the ninth and tenth months, the county yamen sends personnel down to the villages to collect taxes. According to long-standing custom, farming households will more or less give some hardship money. In the past, people could still get by. But ever since the county treasury ran out of funds and began withholding clerks’ monthly stipends, the clerks started looking for ways to pad their own pockets. The hardship fees demanded during tax collection are now three to five times what they used to be.”
His own family also farmed crops—thin land, barely ten-odd mu. After paying the land tax, the remaining grain amounted to only four or five shi. Once the grain was sold and taxes paid, there was only one or two taels of silver left. The officials who came from the county yamen to collect taxes had gone from demanding a few dozen copper coins as hardship money, to several hundred, and the most black-hearted even asked for over a thousand coins.
The clerks also judged people by their circumstances. If they saw a household with better means, they demanded more; if poorer, they asked for less—always ensuring they squeezed out the maximum hardship money a farming household could possibly produce. In this way, matters would not blow up, and they could still line their own pockets.
Back then, Jiang Qi’s family circumstances were not too bad. He had been sharp since childhood, especially sensitive to numbers. For the sake of his future, his family clenched their teeth and sent him to a private academy to study, hoping he might one day enter officialdom.
However, good times did not last. He only entered the academy at the age of ten, already late in beginning his studies. After just three years, his family could no longer bear the expense of his schooling.
Though he loved learning, Jiang Qi understood his family’s hardship. Even though he had been brighter at ten than children who began at five, he could only set aside his books.
He spent two years farming at home. Under year after year of extraction, there was almost nothing left—barely enough to keep everyone fed.
Knowing that such a life would only grow worse, Jiang Qi relied on the few years of schooling he had and went to the county seat to look for work. He started as a shop assistant, doing odd jobs and running errands. Because he was quick-witted, he earned some favor, and later, because he could read and do accounts, he was promoted to be an accountant.
He earned a few hundred copper coins a month—no matter what, it was better than burying himself in the fields. Only then did his family’s circumstances improve slightly.
He was only seventeen now, yet he already looked like someone in his twenties.
That he had made it to where he was today was not only due to his own effort, but also a bit of luck. The vast majority of farming households had no such luck. Under relentless yearly pressure, they grew poorer and poorer, until many sold off their land and became tenant laborers.
Yet once tenant farmers fell into the hands of local gentry landlords, it was another level of inhuman misery altogether.
“Since you yourself have suffered from this,” Du Heng asked, “why did you not tell me these things earlier?”
Jiang Qi replied, “After this subordinate took office, the corrupt official Jiang Zuowu was removed. It seemed the common people’s days would improve a little, and everyone praised Your Excellency as a good official. But how could I burden you with every matter? These things involve too many interests…”
He did not continue, but Du Heng understood his meaning.
If the people were truly to be spared exploitation, many interests would inevitably be touched—among them county officials, as well as the local gentry and power-brokers of Qiuyang County. At that point, it would no longer be as simple as removing a single Jiang Zuowu.
Jiang Qi did not want Du Heng to see just how dire the people’s suffering was, only to end up stuck between the county’s gentry and local tyrants, making things difficult on all sides. If he offended them, life would certainly not be easy.
“I understand your intentions,” Du Heng said. “You wish to repay my recognition. Back when I was selected by the prefect and the court examiners to take charge of Qiuyang County, my mindset was the same as yours now. If I were to muddle through these days, then five years from now, at the grand evaluation, with what face would I go see the Prefect?”
“What falls within my duty, I will not shirk. If the people of Qiuyang County are to live good lives, these difficulties must be faced.”
Jiang Qi’s brow furrowed as a surge of warmth rose in his chest. “Your Excellency upholds great righteousness.”
As the ninth and tenth months approached, tax collection would soon begin, and Du Heng needed to assign the teams going down to the countryside in advance.
Qiuyang County governed twelve townships, which needed to be divided into groups for tax collection.
Du Heng planned for each team to have six clerks: one for registry, one accountant, and four yamen runners.
Although post-harvest tax collection was the main duty, not everyone in the county yamen could be sent out; most still had to remain on duty.
Thus, Du Heng prepared to send out four teams to collect taxes, with each team handling three townships.
After some days, Du Heng gave the drafted plan to Jiang Qi and instructed him to post it on the notice board outside the Rites Office, announcing this year’s autumn tax plan.
County officials all went to take a look, eager for the fresh news. After all, it was the once-a-year chance to fatten their wallets—who would not care?
“Only twenty-four people being sent out this year?”
“One team has to collect taxes from three townships?”
“How is that even manageable?”
Seeing that the limited numbers had everyone rubbing their hands, eager to squeeze into the slots, Jiang Qi spoke at the right moment. “The magistrate has issued a clear order: when each team goes down to the countryside on official business, there are three prohibitions.”
First: neglect of duty under the guise of official business is forbidden; tax collection must be completed promptly.
Second: forcibly demanding or inducing farming households to pay hardship money is forbidden. If they are willing to give, it may be accepted; if not, it must not be taken.
Third: no household’s hardship money may exceed twenty copper coins. Even if a household is willing to give more, any amount beyond twenty coins must not be accepted.
“At that time,” Jiang Qi continued, “with the county magistrate as head, an inspection team will also be formed to make unannounced visits to the countryside and check whether clerks are acting according to regulations. Anyone who violates orders will be recorded with a demerit. Failing the year-end evaluation—there is no need for me to explain what that means.”
The clerks erupted in an uproar. In truth, hardship money was not simply kept by whoever collected it. It had to be shared among everyone involved in the task, with the largest portion offered upward to superiors. What actually reached one’s own hands was not much. For this reason, those handling autumn tax collection each year always tried to demand as much hardship money as possible—so that after handing over the big cut, their own share would still be larger.
In the past, magistrates never explicitly addressed this. Who had ever managed such details so closely? This arrangement was far too meticulous.
Though they felt uncomfortable, it also seemed like exactly the sort of thing Du Heng would do.
Officials who had been eager a moment before now suddenly lost all desire to take on this grueling assignment. For a time, no one spoke.
Jiang Qi said, “The magistrate has said he knows this is grueling work. Once the autumn tax duties are completed, rewards will be given based on the performance of the clerks who go down to the countryside.”
At the word rewards, interest immediately flared up again.
“What kind of rewards?”
“Our county magistrate is an honest man,” Jiang Qi replied. “The yamen has a public estate. When the time comes, livestock from the public estate will be slaughtered and distributed as rewards.”
At this, the clerks’ spirits visibly lifted. The county had an official estate attached to the yamen, where chickens, ducks, pigs, and sheep were raised, and grain was also grown.
When the public estate was first established, the court had intended it specifically as a subsidy for the living expenses of local officials—a privilege reserved entirely for officials. No one had expected that Du Heng would use the estate’s poultry, livestock, and grain as rewards.
The clerks, too, were ordinary people who lived on grain and rice. Compared to civilians earning a living outside, they merely had the added connection of the county yamen. Their stipends were actually quite low. Receiving meat and grain as rewards was therefore extremely appealing to them.
Seeing that the crowd was already moved, Jiang Qi seized the moment. “Anyone who wishes to participate in this round of countryside assignments for the autumn tax collection may come register with me. Registration will close once the slots are filled.”
When water is too clear, there are no fish.
Du Heng did not immediately abolish the practice of collecting hardship money entirely. Instead, he suppressed it, while simultaneously offering rewards as compensation—carrot and stick together.
The people in the yamen could not say much about it. Moreover, when Du Heng first arrived, he had paid off all the overdue monthly stipends. That alone dulled much of their resentment.
What had to be avoided most was issuing harsh orders—cutting everything off in one stroke.
If that happened, the clerks would not be able to accept it and would unite in covert resistance. Du Heng would then be hard-pressed to handle the situation. That was why he had taken such a roundabout approach.
In the end, Du Heng’s arrangements were not in vain. After some discussion, the clerks accepted the plan.
Drawn by the rewards, quite a few people came to Jiang Qi to sign up that very afternoon.
Reducing hardship fees was actually the easy part. The harder issue was the rewards. After all, the public estate was not Du Heng’s alone.
Although, as county magistrate of Qiuyang, he temporarily held the right to use the public estate, the teaching official, the training officer, the patrol inspector, and other minor officials also held usage rights. Even if they followed Du Heng’s lead, he could not unilaterally decide everything concerning the estate.
This was precisely the time to win hearts and minds. Offending subordinates was never a good strategy.
Naturally, Du Heng summoned everyone to speak with them and work on their thinking. As for how he persuaded them—there was an answer in the inner residence.
After leaving the yamen, Du Heng returned to the inner residence.
The moment he stepped inside, he saw a short, squat figure in the garden, gripping a large saber in each hand, swinging left, chopping right. His stance was surprisingly steady, not thrown off by his own wild movements.
A miniature wooden Guan Yu great saber cut an arc through the air. With a soft, sticky little shout—“Hah!”—the saber thrust forward into the wind. Bang! A crisp sound rang out.
Du Heng’s brow tightened.
The lotus water jar that had been quietly squatting beneath the pear tree suddenly burst open. Greenish water arced through the air and began spraying out with sharp hissing sounds.
“Qin Dan Ce!”
Du Heng strode over. Hearing his father’s furious voice, the little rascal did not even turn his head. He hastily put away the saber and darted behind Yi Yan, who was leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed.
“What are you doing! Where did you get that saber?”
Clutching Yi Yan’s clothes, Dan Ce poked out only half his head. “Brother Yi made it.”
Du Heng ground his teeth. “Then Brother Yi also taught you to stab the water jar?”
That part, no—but he had wanted to poke the big water jar for a long time.
Du Heng grabbed a piece of cloth, rolled it into a ball, and stuffed it into the hole. “Chengyi’s little koi are raised in this jar. If all the water leaks out and the fish die of thirst, let’s see whether your brother gets angry!”
At this, Dan Ce dashed over to the jar, grabbed the rim, and peeked inside at the fish that that chubby idiot from the Yun family had given them. Seeing the fish still swimming around lively, he immediately let out a sigh of relief.
He lifted his chin and declared to Du Heng, “Dan Ce hates little koi the most!”
Du Heng pinched his firm little cheek, bent down, and scooped him up. “Why are you so petty?”
Dan Ce snorted.
“Why did you suddenly start playing with sabers?”
“Granny Tang is already teaching my brother to read. And Little Father even brought some other children over to study with him and won’t let me go. They won’t even play with me!”
Dan Ce pouted and rattled off his complaints about how unfair his little father was.
Once he learned to wield a saber—once he could lift people one-handed like Brother Yi—any annoying brats who dared cling to his brother, he would stab one by one with his great saber.
Hearing this, Du Heng could not help but laugh, then quickly suppressed it. “Then let Father ask you—do you like playing with sabers?”
Dan Ce glanced at the lifelike wooden saber in his hand and nodded.
Although it was heavy to hold, it was far more imposing than little embroidered balls or tiger-head dolls.
“Dan Ce likes it.”
“Then go ask the little brothers and sisters who are studying with your brother under Granny Tang which of them likes your Guan Yu great saber.”
Dan Ce furrowed his thick black brows. When Brother Yi had handed him the finished saber, he had loved it so much that he immediately took it to show his brother and the new children. But they all seemed not to like it at all—none of them wanted to play together.
Only Little Father said the saber looked good and even snatched it away to play with for a long while before reluctantly returning it to him.
Du Heng continued, “That’s right. If the little brothers and sisters don’t like playing with sabers, how can they play with you? They like what Granny Tang teaches. If Granny Tang is teaching reading and writing, that’s one thing—but when she teaches embroidery, brewing tea, and the like, if you also like those things and don’t find them boring or disruptive in class, then Father will let you go as well.”
Du Heng was not lying to a child. He knew all of those things himself. If Dan Ce liked them, he could let him learn.
Dan Ce fell silent, said nothing, then rested his head on Du Heng’s shoulder, staring at the Guan Yu saber in his hand.
“So—are you going or not?”
Dan Ce pressed his lips together. “I’ll stay in the garden and play with sabers. When my brother finishes lessons, I’ll play with him then.”
“Since this is a decision you made yourself, you can’t cause trouble anymore. And you’re absolutely not allowed to take your anger out on the big water jar!”
“Got it.”
With that settled between father and son, Du Heng finally cast a cool glance at Yi Yan standing off to the side. “Fix that jar for me.”
Yi Yan rubbed the tip of his nose. “The young master does have talent for martial arts.”
Knowing from a young age exactly where to stab to earn a smack on the backside—practically a rite of passage for every martial man.
Du Heng couldn’t be bothered to respond to Yi Yan. Holding his second son, he headed toward the side hall and paused at the doorway to take a look inside.
The little ones were holding their books and reciting the Three Character Classic. Chengyi sat in the front row, his voice soft and sweet, yet extremely focused. A few days ago, he had come to show Du Heng two characters he had written; they were already beginning to take shape.
It was clear that Nanny Tang taught well, and that the child studied diligently.
Besides Chengyi, there were several other children as well—the legitimate sons and daughters of the county school instructor, the training instructor, Ma Yingfan, and other officials’ households.
Through the Ma family’s female relatives, Qin Xiaoman had come to know the other officials’ families in the county office. When chatting casually, she mentioned that they had hired a female tutor for Chengyi. Naturally, she first learned a set of polished, presentable explanations from Du Heng, then passed them on in a casual, gossip-like manner to the other women.
Everyone then learned that there was a nanny from the palace teaching Chengyi in the inner residence. The advantages of that needed no elaborate explanation; the women immediately thought of their own children.
They were all flesh and blood of their own parents—of course they wanted their children to gain more learning and understanding. Once someone set the precedent, and since these were all official families with some means, it was only natural to follow suit.
It was just that in a small county like this, it was difficult to find someone of similar caliber to teach boys and girls. Qin Xiaoman, knowing full well how hard that would be, subtly mentioned that Chengyi studied alone and felt lonely—though, of course, everything still depended on Magistrate Du’s decision.
At night, the women whispered pillow talk to their husbands. Thinking of their own children, the men naturally took it to heart. When they went to the yamen, they swallowed their pride and sought Du Heng out, asking for the chance for their children to study together.
Du Heng was, of course, easygoing and happy to sell this favor. At the same time, he casually brought up the matter of the public estate rewards. The school instructors, patrol officers, and the like readily agreed.
In this way, no feelings were hurt. On the contrary, relations between superior and subordinates grew closer.
By September, the county seat was noticeably livelier. Farmers whose crops ripened early and who worked quickly had already begun transporting grain into the city to sell.
Qin Xiaoman made some inquiries about grain prices in the county. Corn sold for about seven hundred cash per dan, rice for around eight hundred fifty. The prices were considerably lower than even in a bumper year in Luoxia County.
Price differences between counties were nothing unusual. Qiuyang County was poor; prices were naturally low.
With a bumper harvest that year, to prevent unscrupulous merchants from cheating the farmers, Du Heng assigned extra constables and patrol officers in the city to maintain order, ensuring that farmers could sell their grain smoothly and receive their money.
As farmers sold grain and got paid, the tax-collection teams assigned to the countryside could also carry out their work more smoothly.
The lingering heat of summer carried into autumn. Du Heng was so busy arranging county affairs that blisters flared up at the corners of his mouth.
Qin Xiaoman went to the outskirts and picked a large bundle of wild mountain chrysanthemums, dried them, and brewed them into tea for him to reduce internal heat. Drinking this cooling tea every day finally stopped the condition from worsening.
Du Heng had thought that preparations for his first autumn harvest since taking office were already thorough. Unexpectedly, problems still cropped up one after another.
In late September, after each village had finished tallying its production tax grain, they began transporting it to the county in batches.
But grain from Mangping Village—three hours’ walk from the county—was actually robbed by bandits halfway along the route!
The village headman, already over fifty, was badly frightened. Knowing he could not account for this to the county office, he fainted on the spot and was now still gravely ill and unconscious.
According to the report, as much as thirty dan of grain had been taken.
Mangping Village had produced a total of seventy-two dan of tax grain this year. It should have been a good harvest. The village headman’s thinking was simple: it was the new magistrate’s first year in office, so delivering the grain early might leave a good impression. Who would have thought that the bird that sticks its head out gets shot—bandits had set their sights on them.
Du Heng had long heard that bandits and brigands ran rampant in Qiuyang County. After taking office, the county had so many problems that calling them overwhelming would not be an exaggeration.
In the end, he had completely pushed this matter out of his mind.
The county itself had been relatively peaceful, with no such incidents, so Du Heng truly had not expected these bandits to be bold enough to rob government grain and commit crimes openly on the official road.
“In the past, our county also had thieves,” Qin Xiaoman said. “Didn’t those criminals dare to sneak right into people’s homes? When people are desperate, with nothing to eat or drink, they’re capable of anything.”
Du Heng shook his head. “This is still my fault for not making thorough arrangements.”
Qin Xiaoman comforted him. “You’ve already done the best you could. Now that something like this has happened, regret is useless. What matters is figuring out how to remedy it.”
Du Heng said, “I’ll dispatch county soldiers right away to pursue and suppress the bandits. I’m just afraid the results will be limited.”
The soldiers in the county yamen had hardly been trained. Patrolling the streets was one thing, but pursuing bandits and recovering grain would be far more difficult. It would require someone suitable to lead them.
“This humble one is willing to go.”
Hearing Yi Yan speak coldly, Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman exchanged a glance.