Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Cui Xiaoman looked at him as if he were a fool. "Do we really need the water used to wash the pots?"
"Yes!" Lin Dahe exclaimed, rushing to catch the water that splashed out, murky liquid floating with a few vegetable leaves and oil spots. "Is there more?"
Cui Xiaoman's expression shifted from disgust to wariness. "Have you lost your mind?"
In the end, Lin Dahe used the ridiculous excuse of "treating athlete's foot" to obtain leftover water from three households. As dusk fell, he squatted in his backyard digging a pit, layering the collected kitchen waste and wood ash. Just as he was busy, a sudden urgent sound of a gong echoed from the village entrance.
"The County Lord has sent the Tax Collector! Everyone gather at the ancestral hall!"
Lin Dahe dropped the wooden spoon in his hand with a clatter—this was three whole days earlier than the system had warned!
When the gong sounded for the third time, Lin Dahe grabbed a decent blue cloth long gown from the corner. He hesitated for a moment before taking some wood ash from the stove and smearing it on his face—this beggar-like appearance might help him pay less tax.
Pushing open the creaking fence gate, he nearly stepped on a foraging chicken. The pile of kitchen waste in the yard was still fermenting, bubbling with strange green bubbles and emitting a sour smell of decay. Lin Dahe poked it with a stick; when the bubbles burst, a few drops of sticky liquid splattered out, scorching the weeds on the ground.
"Can this stuff really be used as fertilizer?" he muttered as he covered it with dirt, suddenly hearing hoofbeats approaching from afar.
Four Yard Officers dressed in dark uniforms surrounded a Tax Collector wearing a square scarf, going door to door banging on gates. The leading Tax Collector, in his forties with an iron ruler hanging at his waist, thrust his ledger nearly into the villagers' noses. "Three coins for poll tax, five coins for land tax, two coins for military levy—if you can’t produce grain, pay in silver at market price!"
Lin Dahe's heart sank. According to information provided by the system, taxes during the Chongzhen era had already tripled compared to those in Wanli. He quietly retreated to the backyard and pried open a hidden money pouch from between the wall cracks—inside were only a handful of copper coins and a small piece of silver left over from treating Aunt Wang's child a few days ago.
Suddenly, loud banging echoed from the front yard.
"Where is Lin Dahe?"
Steeling himself, he walked out to see the Tax Collector poking at the compost pit he hadn’t managed to bury yet. The green liquid stuck to the iron ruler and emitted wisps of white smoke.
"How bold! Are you secretly refining poison?" The Tax Collector's face changed dramatically as three Yard Officers immediately drew their clubs and surrounded him.
"Your Honor, please see! This... this is a method from Western Fertile Fields!" Lin Dahe exclaimed in a panic, pointing at some newly sprouted potatoes in the corner. "Look at these crops..."
The Tax Collector squatted down to examine the seedlings and suddenly sneered. "Are you trying to fool me? This grass isn’t even a fist high; how will you pay your autumn tax?" He flipped through his ledger rapidly. "According to law, those without grain must pay with land deeds—"
"Wait!"
A clear female voice came from outside the fence. Cui Xiaoman strode over with a bundle of firewood on her back, her hair still dusted with grass clippings. Without hesitation, she stood in front of Lin Dahe and pulled out a string of copper coins tied with red thread from her pocket. "This land is leased from my family; here’s the tax money."
The Tax Collector weighed the coins suspiciously while sizing them up. "Where’s your lease contract?"
"It’s stored at the county office," Cui Xiaoman replied without changing her expression. "My father handled it personally last year; if you don’t believe me, you can go check right now."
Lin Dahe noticed her right hand pressing firmly against her waist where her sickle was sheathed; her knuckles were turning white. The Tax Collector seemed to sense the threat as well; he snorted and tucked the coins into his sleeve pocket. "Noted: Cui Family Tenant Lin Dahe owes eight coins in silver!"
Comment 0 Comment Count