gnovel Chapter 4 Selling Land
Chapter 4 Selling Land
The moon had just climbed over the treetops, and all around was silent.
Li Chengye took out a broken earthenware pot, poured all the grass seeds inside into the pot, then pushed firewood into the stove and lit it.
In the dimly lit room, the flames from the stove illuminated his face in a mixture of light and shadow.
Before long, a bitter aroma wafted from the pot.
"Brother, I'm back. I have something to tell you..."
As Li Chengen pushed open the door, about to report what he had seen to Li Chengye, he smelled a familiar scent.
"Brother, did you make grass seed porridge?"
"Yes, have a good meal tonight. How's the thing I asked you to find out?"
Thinking about what his older brother had asked him to do, Li Chengen swallowed hard and said, "There was a really long line outside Zhao Shouren's house this afternoon!"
"Uncle Zhang Wu'er sold three acres of hillside land, which only paid off five cents of tax. He wanted to borrow some grain, but he had to go out nine times and return thirteen times. His wife and child cried so hard at the door that they couldn't straighten up."
Uncle Sun Wuliu had no land to sell, so he borrowed five taels of silver to pay taxes. The government only gave him ten days to repay the loan. Old Zhao said that if he couldn't repay the loan in three months, they would take over his ancestral home. Uncle Sun's hand was shaking when he put his fingerprint on the document...
Li Chengen became increasingly agitated as he spoke: "Several other families either sold their land at a low price or were burdened with high-interest loans, and they all came out crying. Zhao Laogou's steward is still swaggering at the door, saying that if they don't want to, they can just wait for the authorities to come and arrest them..."
Li Chengye listened quietly, his fingers clenching even tighter until his knuckles turned white.
The porridge in the pot was bubbling and boiling.
He nodded. "Understood."
Then he ladled a full bowl for Li Chengen. "Eat more, go to bed early tonight, you have things to do tomorrow."
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At the third quarter of the hour of Yin (3:45 AM), the rooster crowed three times.
Zhao Shouren woke up. The first thing he touched was a warm, soft mass beside him; it was the daughter of a farmer who had brought her to pay off a debt the night before.
Although she was as thin as a reed, she was young and had a slender figure.
He touched the girl's face, saw the tear stains in her eyes, and frowned as if he had seen something unclean. Then he got up and had the maid who was already waiting beside him help him wash up.
The butler, Zhao Fu, was also waiting outside the door.
"Today, the gates are wide open, and the thresholds have been removed." He waved and ordered, "Tell those poor wretches who can't pay their rent not to be afraid; I, Zhao Shouren, am also one of their fellow villagers."
Breakfast was already laid out on the kang table by the window, a hearty Shaanxi dish. A large bowl of milky-white mutton soup, sprinkled with bright green chopped chives, steam rose up, carrying the aroma of mutton.
Next to it was a large plate of freshly baked, golden-brown layered buns, glistening with oil; a dish of clams topped with chili oil; and a small dish of shredded lamb tripe mixed with yellow mustard.
This meal was enough for three people, but it was only enough for Zhao Shouren for one meal.
When he was a child, Zhao Shouren was also a poor man. At that time, he felt that being able to eat a steamed bun was the happiest thing in the world.
Later, he followed the garrison eunuch of Xi'an Prefecture and rose to prominence. From then on, he ate breakfast as if it were New Year's Day every day, which gradually became a habit.
The room was quiet, with only the occasional slurping of soup and the soft clinking of chopsticks against the rim of the bowl.
Halfway through his meal, he seemed to remember something and put down his chopsticks. He beckoned Zhao Fu, who was waiting at the door, to come in. He instructed, "Have the girl that Wang Laoqi's family sent over take her back to her room later."
He dipped the last bits of soup at the bottom of the bowl into the steamed bun, "clean it up a bit, wrap two ounces of brown sugar in it for her, and tell her it's to help her recover. Her family can pay their taxes this year after the fall."
Zhao Fu responded with a "Yes," and then made arrangements for his servants.
After breakfast, he dismissed the maids, leaving only Zhao Fu in the room.
He asked, "Have you taken care of things with Secretary Qian in the county?"
Zhao Fu leaned forward slightly and whispered, "It's all taken care of, sir. I sent him 50 taels. Master Qian's idea is that the extra charges for losses can be collected, but the accounts must be clean. The extra portion will still be split according to the old rules, 40/60, with the county taking 60%."
Zhao Shouren wiped his mouth and tongue with a coarse cloth, nodded, and then said angrily, "We do all the work, but the money goes to the higher-ups. Damn it, it's true that a higher-ranking official can crush you."
He then instructed: "To those who come to pay taxes today, you must make it clear to them that it is the imperial court that needs the money, and that our Zhao family is merely acting in accordance with the rules and will also bear the responsibility for their actions."
The extra harvested grain should be stored separately. Once winter arrives and grain prices rise, it can be used to subsidize those who cannot survive, at the market price at that time.
Zhao Fu flattered, "Sir, you are kind and considerate, and you take great care of the villagers."
Zhao Shouren added, "After collecting the taxes, prepare the return gifts for the county magistrate and Master Qian, and then select two of our local fat sheep and send them some fine silk."
After the steward left, Zhao Shouren went to his desk and wrote a letter to his son, who was an officer in Xi'an Prefecture.
The letter read: "This year's severe drought will surely lead to widespread famine, and grain prices will multiply several times over by winter. Our family has gained over a thousand acres of land, all sold by villagers. Since you are in the army, you must stockpile provisions early and not miss this opportunity."
He then added: "I met Liu Ying, the military commissioner of Xi'an, a few times in the past. He was a scholar and valued books and calligraphy. If you encounter any obstacles in your endeavors, you can bring some calligraphy or paintings by famous people and mention my name to smooth things over."
Furthermore, Wang Er, a rebel, should be suppressed with all his might, thereby gaining military merit, a promotion as soon as possible, and bringing glory to his family.
After sealing the letter, he stamped it with sealing wax using his personal seal engraved with the character "Ren" (仁), then summoned a nimble servant and instructed him, "Deliver this letter to the eldest son of the Xi'an Prefecture. Use the post station, pick a fast horse, and deliver it as quickly as possible."
The servant took the letter with both hands, hesitated slightly, and said in a low voice, "Master, the last time I went to the post station, the postmaster muttered that the officials are checking strictly now, and private letters that are not official documents have to be paid a fee according to the rules."
Zhao Shouren didn't even look up. He put the brush in his hand on the brush holder and said impatiently, "Give him money? Tell him this letter is for the garrison in Xi'an and can't be delayed for even a moment. If he dares to give me any more nonsense, ask him if he still wants to make a living! If he makes me unhappy, I'll talk to the county magistrate and ask him to replace him with a more sensible postmaster. It shouldn't be difficult."
The servant trembled, bowed his head deeply, and replied, "Yes, sir, I understand. I'll go tell him right away."
After saying this, the servant carefully put the letter away and scurried out.
Zhao Shouren then slowly got up, walked to the window, looked at the gray sky, and snorted softly.
In the courtyard, four strong servants were practicing with sticks, wielding them with great skill and flair.
He summoned Zhao Hu, the head of his household guards, and instructed him: "There are probably quite a few people coming today. Keep an eye on them and don't be violent towards the villagers, but if anyone causes trouble or disrupts the grain delivery order, don't be polite."
Zhao Hu responded loudly, "Understood!"
The vermilion gate of the Zhao residence was wide open, and the threshold had been removed.
Several emaciated farmers had been waiting outside the door. The accountant had set out an abacus and a rice measure, the edge of which was worn smooth and shiny.
The first farmer practically crawled in, dragging a cloth bag as he poured the grain into the rice container.
The steward, Zhao Fu, fiddled with the abacus and looked at the somewhat shriveled chaff, saying, "We're still short 3 dou and 7 sheng, and the quality of your grain is too poor, so we'll have to deduct one-third."
The old farmer cried and begged the magistrate for mercy, but Zhao Fu refused to budge.
Having no other choice, he tremblingly took out the land deed from his bosom. Zhao Shouren saw it, stepped forward to help him up, and said, "This is ancestral property, you can't accept it." The old farmer kowtowed repeatedly, begging the sir to give him a good price.
Zhao Shouren turned his face away and nodded slightly to Zhao Fu.
Zhao Fu then signed the deed, had the old farmer affix his seal, and accepted the land deed.
Next in came a young man.
Zhao Shouren remembered him; he was the eldest son of the Li family at the east end of the village.
When his father passed away last year, he had already sold two acres of land. I heard that his family didn't have much of a harvest this year either, so he's probably here to sell land again.
As expected, Li Dalang was there to sell land.
However, his behavior was somewhat different from the others: after entering the Zhao residence, he kept looking around, and when he heard the steward Zhao Fu quote him a price, he only argued slightly, asked for an extra dou of millet, and then said nothing more.
The Li family's two mu of land were irrigated land near the river. If the Baishui River hadn't dried up this year, they could have had a good harvest.
In previous years, an acre of such irrigated land by the river could be worth five or six taels of silver, but this time the Zhao family actually bought it at a low price, which made Zhao Shouren extremely happy.
Zhao Shouren stepped forward and said, "Chengye, don't worry, don't be sad, the better days are yet to come. As long as you are willing to work hard, this land will be back in your hands sooner or later."
Li Chengye surprisingly nodded in agreement, replying, "Yes, the best is yet to come."
After thanking Zhao Shouren, Li Chengye took the bag of millet and strode away from the Zhao family compound.
After leaving the Zhao family compound, Li Chengye did not go directly home, but instead went to the west end of the village.
Yang Chongwang's home is there.