Chapter 3: The Clown Is Actually Me!

Since a compromise was reached, Fang Chongyong naturally went from "prisoner under the stairs" to "guest of honor". His parents in his previous life had taught him that he must become a "useful" person; this moment was magical with incomparable persuasiveness.

Fang Chongyong was invited into a special tea room, where a beautiful maid in light gauze prepared tea, her technique skillful, her face bearing a tranquil smile.

The surroundings were enclosed by foldable wooden screens; the rhododendron flowers and skylarks painted on them were vivid, as if about to leap out, clearly the work of a master.

This is the luxurious flavor from Chang'an! Zheng Shuqing, ever since his appointment to Kui Prefecture, always brought this precious screen.

A white‑porcelain tea cauldron simmered on the stove, its surface marked with fine pale cracks, both pure and mysterious.

Then high‑quality charcoal was lit, emitting a smoky scent. A three‑legged bronze tea rack supported the cauldron, exuding an indescribable noble elegance. Beside it, two delicate white‑jade cups rested on silver saucers inlaid with lotus‑patterned gold rims, unabashedly flamboyant.

The maid's slender, fair hand broke the tea cake into pieces and gently placed them into the cauldron; its shape and demeanor were pleasing to the eye.

Fang Chongyong watched, entranced, until the other party added snow‑white… salt into the cauldron.

Adding salt to tea?

This scene left him blinking in surprise.

Zheng Shuqing thought Fang Chongyong was overwhelmed by the tea set's opulence and, with a hint of pride, introduced: "This tea is Kui Prefecture's tribute tea, Xiangshan. Xiangshan tea grows on She Xiangshan; the leaves are tight, smooth, straight, showing buds on the front, both silvery‑green and emerald‑green, with a strong, lasting fragrance and a fresh sweet taste."

She Xiangshan lies thirty li southeast of Kui Prefecture's capital; it isn't far, and the mountain springs there are sweet and clear, a world apart from river water.

This tea water comes from the Xiangshan spring; boiling Xiangshan spring water with Xiangshan tea is truly indescribably wonderful.

"I also have Jianshan Mengding Stone Flower, Dongchuan Divine Spring, Shan Zhou Bijiang, Changzhou Yixing Purple Bamboo and other fine teas. If Kui's local tribute tea doesn't suit your palate, you can try teas from other prefectures—also very interesting, hahahaha."

Zheng Shuqing stroked his long beard and laughed, nearly making Fang Chongyong vomit blood from disgust.

Faced with such flaunting, Fang Chongyong was speechless, because the bragging sounded as natural as a former rich man saying even staying in a hotel costs tens of thousands.

Yet he felt relieved; given Zheng's family background, drinking tea from whatever bowl is normal, having been immersed in it since childhood, it's already part of life.

Even when watching vulgar erotic dances, if the dancer doesn't perform continuously for one or two hours, he's too lazy to watch.

The extravagant feasts that ordinary people could never afford are, in the eyes of these people, possibly even inedible pork.

Humans are inherently different; your endpoint may not even reach another's starting point. Is the meaning of life merely that we once came?

Fang Chongyong, who wanted to retort "the rich house reeks of wine and meat," held back and did not curse.

A person under a roof, low‑key, is not cold.

Soon the tea was ready; Zheng Shuqing personally poured tea for Fang Chongyong, waved his hand, and the few maids in the room quietly withdrew, closing and locking the door.

"Speak, say whatever you like, anything is fine."

Zheng Shuqing said calmly, having already removed the smile from his face.

"Minister Zheng, regardless, the huge customs revenue can only be scraped from Kui Prefecture itself, which might harm your reputation…"

After the politeness, it was time to get to the point; Fang Chongyong said hesitantly.

But Zheng Shuqing, impatient, waved his hand and said: "No need for such idle talk. If we don't draw money from Kui Prefecture, how can we fill the void? Clearly there is only this one method. I want to know how to make up the deficit of three hundred thousand guan."

His patience is limited, and time is also limited!

"I once saw Kui's scenery and wrote a poem:

On the White Emperor City hill, spring grass sprouts,

Below White Salt Mountain, the Shu River runs clear.

Southern men come up and sing a song,

Northern men, do not stir hometown feelings.

Minister, you could open a salt office in Kui; with White Salt Mountain, you won't fear failing to collect salt tax."

Fang Chongyong said confidently.

White Salt Mountain lies east of Kui city; there is a salt well there—how could there be no salt? With salt in hand, why fear lacking money?

Hearing this, Zheng Shuqing was stunned; he never expected Fang Chongyong not to know such a basic fact.

Zheng Shuqing sighed helplessly: "Your talent lies only in poetry; do not look down on the world. Haven't you heard the children of Kui say: there is no salt on White Salt Mountain?"

Kui Prefecture not only lacks a salt mountain, but most of its people obtain salt from Wu lands (Jiangnan). Moreover, even if the nearby White Salt Mountain were a heap of salt, salt tax is a central policy, not for local officials to decide.

Even if we were to collect it, it's not our job! The so‑called prodigy can only do so much.

Zheng Shuqing looked at Fang Chongyong with ill intent, deeply doubting whether he had rushed into a bad remedy.

There are many kinds of prodigies; it's clear Fang Chongyong is a good poet, but whether he can handle money is another story.

Kui's salt administration is so complex it defies description; it has imports, exports, and also serves as a logistics hub, all three states co‑existing, making profit extraction extremely difficult—pull one hair and the whole body moves.

"Please, Minister, take me to the accounting office to investigate; if I don't see the local inflow, I am powerless."

Fang Chongyong clasped his hands and pleaded. He had to admit he had indeed underestimated Zheng Shuqing a bit.

"Don't you want tea? Tea leaves aren't expensive; it's just that Xiangshan spring water is under official jurisdiction, ordinary people can't drink it."

Zheng Shuqing teased, implying Fang Chongyong was a country bumpkin.

Fang Chongyong quickly drank a large gulp of the local Xiangshan tribute tea, feeling no embarrassment at all.

The fragrant tea was sweet, and the added salt actually enhanced the after‑taste and freshness, very nice. Though ancient knowledge of bodily circulation was lacking and they didn't know excess salt caused disease, their pursuit of flavor was relentless and ever inventive.

Salted tea is tasty but cannot be drunk in excess; the tea leaves can later be used for a few jin to taste, no need for more salt.

Fang Chongyong silently mocked in his mind, his face unchanged.

As for why Tang people added salt to tea, it was actually to remove bitterness; he only learned that later.

"Alright, since we're at this point, follow me."

Zheng Shuqing looked hesitant but nodded slightly, not refusing.

The private matters in the prefectural accounting office aren't entirely unspeakable, but for someone like Fang Chongyong, the son of a former Imperial Inspector, they're rather inappropriate.

The current situation is already tense; Li Linfu's handwritten letter arrived at Zheng Shuqing's hand just yesterday, demanding that before the Lantern Festival next year he must settle the customs duties of Kui's river pass.

That's three hundred thousand guan, not thirty or three hundred guan!

Li Linfu ignored how Zheng had pleaded in the letter, remaining extremely hard‑line, and didn't even mention pursuing the missing taxes!

Li Linfu's meaning was clear: whether Zheng steals, levies arbitrarily, or even lets local troops pose as river bandits to rob merchant ships, as long as the money is secured, nothing else matters.

And there will be no more imperial inspectors like Fang Youde coming to Kui Prefecture to cause trouble; Zheng Shuqing, see to it yourself and don't make a mistake!

As a partisan of Li Linfu, Zheng Shuqing knows his temperament well. If Li Linfu gives no "opportunity," that means there is still room to turn things around and bargain. But since he has already spoken, there are still more than half a year until next year's Shangyuan Festival; if the shortfall truly cannot be covered, Li Linfu's methods are far from harmless!

The opportunity is given to you; if you can't seize it, then don't blame me when I act mercilessly to clean up the office!

Li Linfu excels at operating "within the system," using regulations to ruin colleagues or subordinates.

Compared with Li Linfu's ruthless tactics, Zheng Shuqing thinks that the yellow‑mouth youngster Fang Chongyong is not worth fearing.

Under the guard of two attendants, Zheng Shuqing led Fang Chongyong out of the official residence, entered Kui Prefecture's city through the north gate, and arrived at the account office of the prefectural office. On the cabinets were piles upon piles of Kui Prefecture household registers, account books, maps, and official documents.

They were sorted and arranged, not as chaotic as imagined.

This made Fang Chongyong look at Zheng Shuqing with higher regard; even a titular official might not be as incompetent as he thought, and could handle daily affairs.

Carrying a stack of account books to the desk, he flipped through page by page, and Fang Chongyong quickly sensed something amiss.

The accounts were too perfect, with no arrears! One must know that peasants, especially self‑cultivating farmers under the equal‑field system, have seasonal and regular flows of wealth, and often fall behind on taxes due to natural or man‑made disasters.

Moreover, the Tang tax standards were based on the average household at the founding of the dynasty when land was abundant. After a hundred years of development, land consolidation became severe, and tax delinquency among ordinary families was common; the taxes could not be collected so uniformly.

After all, the High Tang did not practice a "tax‑in‑advance" system; as long as a household was not a black register, its taxes would be collected by the government.

Local magnates might foul the common folk, but the government would not dare to act recklessly; if the matter escalated, it would be hard to settle.

"Take your time; if you can't finish today, continue tomorrow; there's no rush for a day or two."

Zheng Shuqing yawned and said.

A young boy, what can you possibly see? Zheng Shuqing thought he might still need to explain something to the other side.

He felt increasingly that he was grasping at straws in his desperation.

"This account book looks odd, almost… fake."

Fang Chongyong set the account book down, gave a wry smile, and fell silent while looking at Zheng Shuqing.

Huh?

Zheng Shuqing couldn't help but sit up straight, squinting as he examined the plain‑looking, tender‑faced boy before him!

An old clerk who has been mixing in the prefectural office for years can naturally spot the trick in the account books. But a young boy noticing it, and doing so after flipping only a few pages, is not that simple.

"How can you tell?"

Zheng Shuqing pinched his beard and asked.

He didn't directly admit it, but it was tantamount to tacit approval; he just hoped Fang Chongyong would tell the reason.

"The world has myriad affairs; birth, aging, illness, death are predetermined. No one stays perfect for a hundred days, nor do flowers stay red for a hundred days. Every household faces difficulties. Your account books show that so many people pay taxes that the collected taxes exceed the usual amount—how could there be no problem?"

Fang Chongyong immediately saw that the average tax revenue in the account books was higher.

During the Zhenguan era of the Tang dynasty, the rule was set: each adult annually paid a 'rent' of two bushels of chestnuts, and a 'tax' according to local produce—each year two yards of silk (or brocade, twill), three ounces of cotton, or two yards five feet of cloth, and three pounds of hemp.

The current standard exceeds the norm by more than ten percent, yet every township pays it neatly, with no arrears.

In his previous life, Fang Chongyong had seen countless chronic tax evaders; how could there be none here! Not only are they paying on time, they are paying more than the quota—do they think people are fools!

"You don't understand, do you? How many people and households are there in Kui Prefecture? Are the court officials aware? Do they know whether the population has increased or decreased? Who inspects the registers, and how often?"

Zheng Shuqing stroked his long beard and asked smugly.

Fang Chongyong was speechless; how could he possibly know these tricks!

"Let me tell you, the court fundamentally doesn't know, nor does it expect to know, and certainly doesn't send people to verify every year. Court officials only ask whether this year's tax revenue has come in, and how it compares to last year. If it's higher than last year, the assessment naturally won't be poor, and who would care whether these account books are genuine or fake?"

If it's more than last year, then the evaluation will naturally not be poor; who would bother to care whether these account books are real or fake?

Now I claim that the border towns of the Shu region are unstable and need military supplies, so I inflate the accounts by ten percent; if a disaster strikes later, there will be room to decrease, you know nothing.

Tell you, I actually collected only ninety percent of the taxes; I can raise it further in the future!

Zheng Shuqing boasted proudly.

He may not be an old coin, but he is certainly an old bureaucrat, well versed in the court's tricks. Zheng Shuqing collects less in reality and more on paper, creating a twenty‑percent swing that suffices to handle any contingency.

As for why this is possible, it's because the entire account book is a black box; the court doesn't know the specifics.

"So… they're all fake, then?"

Fang Chongyong asked calmly, his expression steady; he had already spotted the trick, but hoped Zheng Shuqing would confirm.

"You don't need to know those; just find a way to help this official skim money."

Zheng Shuqing gave a cryptic answer, his inner satisfaction already written on his face.

The two then fell into an awkward silence.

"Sir, actually, this method is simple to explain as well."

Fang Chongyong paused then continued: "Kui Prefecture lies along the Yangtze River, with developed water transport, making copper coins easy to obtain. Sir can collect copper coins in Kui Prefecture as taxes, then during the autumn harvest use the treasury's funds to purchase grain from Jingxiang and Southern Jiang, and encourage the use of copper coins to redeem corvée labor."

Grain prices in Jingxiang and Southern Jiang are low, and after the autumn harvest, large landholders across the region need to sell stored grain.

If the government purchases on a large scale, it can sell at bottom price. In this way, a lot of wealth can be saved. Sir can use this grain as rent, then take copper coins to the Shu region to buy Shu brocade, transport it to Luoyang, and exchange it for ordinary silk as tax.

As for the remaining tax, collect all in copper coins, let convicted criminals participate under the pretext of opening mountain fields, and there will be a surplus.

With multiple approaches, wouldn't the wealth gradually accumulate?

Fang Chongyong folded his sleeves, bowed deeply to Zheng Shuqing in a very formal manner, and said.

"Hehe, making money, that's not hard. Referring to the method of profiting from pension funds in a past life, the government's participation in a monopoly trade would fill the coffers."

Fang Chongyong was very confident about this.

Yet he saw Zheng Shuqing stare at him with a contemptuous expression, as if utterly disdainful.

"The prodigy really only has this little cleverness!"

Zheng Shuqing couldn't help but sigh wistfully, disappointment evident on his face.

"Sir, what do you say?"

Fang Chongyong asked, genuinely puzzled; he didn't think there was anything wrong with his plan, after all he had used it to perfection in his previous life. This is wisdom accumulated over a thousand years.

"I don't know whether to praise you for having Li Xiang (Li Linfu)'s ability or to scold you for overreaching."

Zheng Shuqing let out a long sigh and said, "In Kui Prefecture there is little land but many people; from very early on, the rent-labor-tax system existed in name only, and falsifying government accounts became rampant. When I first arrived in Kui Prefecture, I wanted to change this situation, but after a while I found I was terribly mistaken."

"So there's this matter too," Fang Chongyong nodded slightly and said, "I'd like to hear the details."

"Kui Prefecture is the throat of Shu and Jing-Xiang, guarding the Yangtze. Besides being a contested site for military strategists, it is also a place where merchants stay and goods are stockpiled for transshipment; this is one reason the court established the Kuimen River Customs in Kui Prefecture."

Fang Chongyong continued nodding, waiting for what comes next.

"The locals live on boats, trading, transporting goods, and fishing; their earnings far exceed those from farming. The populace is fickle, taking money as life, lacking integrity and shame. Those who risk their lives for big money are everywhere. Even if they have fields, they mostly grow hemp to weave expensive hemp cloth, a Kui Prefecture specialty that sells well throughout Shu."

"How could such people possibly pay their taxes honestly, or feel at ease farming? For the same length of cloth, buying the fabric shipped from Shu is far cheaper than painstakingly weaving their own specialty hemp cloth to pay taxes—how could they be expected to follow the government's tax orders?"

"Moreover, Kui Prefecture also produces white apes, fierce tigers, and black ghosts—should we really ask these mountain folk to go into the mountains to catch tigers to fulfill their labor service?"

Zheng Shuqing said helplessly, full of bitterness, and now he has to confide in a young lad—truly difficult for him. Moreover, he also has to deal with the obstinate Imperial Censor Fang Youde, that sort of dead-book‑reading fool who carries out dead orders, appearing clean on the surface but with only a single servant for his son, poorly fed and clothed.

"Yet his harmfulness is no less than that of a major corrupt official. If Fang Youde were put in charge of governing Kui Prefecture, the locals would surely storm the prefectural office and beat him to death."

"So, Prefect, you mean to have the people of Kui Prefecture pay money, then use those funds for the government to centrally purchase Shu's cloth and Jing-Xiang's grain supplies?"

Fang Chongyong asked, his face shocked.

"Otherwise, what do you think? This is Chancellor Li's plan; even a greenhorn like you could have thought of it—you must be feeling somewhat pleased with yourself."

Zheng Shuqing said irritably.

Fang Chongyong felt no pride at all, only bitterness in his heart.

He realized he had not only failed to find a shortcut, but had become a clown.

Another fast lane was blocked.