Chapter 272: Truly Rigid Men Do Not Live Long

After passing Luoyang, the road was smooth all the way. Along the way, Liu Chengyou occasionally rode out lightly to observe the people's condition. The Central Plains region harvested relatively early, and the autumn harvest was already nearing its end—the bustling scene of a bountiful harvest was temporarily out of sight. From rough observation, he could tell that due to the spread of the earlier drought, the grain harvest had failed badly.

However, no matter how little the fields produced, the taxes still had to be paid. The government's clerks had already begun going down to the villages to collect grain and levy taxes. Although Liu Chengyou had previously issued an edict that autumn taxes would begin on the first day of the tenth month, at the county, town, and village level, collection had already started early.

In the matter of tax collection, no small number of problems had arisen. The current Great Han court could not even reach down to the county level in governance, let alone the towns and villages. Coupled with a shortage of usable grassroots officials, tax collection could basically only be supervised at the prefecture level. And in actual execution, due to the lack of oversight, there were many problems between officials and the people.

The rough conduct of the petty clerks was only a very small part of it. Of course, to collect grain and taxes smoothly, a necessary measure of force was unavoidable.

In Zhengzhou, after an exchange with the military and civil governor Jing Fan, in order to avoid provoking popular unrest, Liu Chengyou immediately issued an edict: all circuits, prefectures, counties, and towns collecting taxes and levies must not engage in oppressive collection or harass the villagers. Additionally, those short on tax money could substitute grain of equivalent value.

At present, when the court collected taxes, the people still paid in cash. Liu Chengyou's policy was conceived with the intention of benefiting the people. The taxes Wang Zhang had set were already very heavy, and at a time of currency shortage, allowing the people to directly substitute grain for tax payments could spare them from having to sell their grain at depressed prices to raise tax money—relieving a great suffering of the people.

But this would again test the government. Fortunately, Liu Chengyou's authority was currently on the rise; it was no longer like the early days of his accession, when every edict he issued had to contend with prefecture and county officials going through the motions.

And regarding this matter, Liu Chengyou also realized that selecting and cultivating a bureaucratic corps loyal to the Emperor and the court could brook no delay. In addition, the supervisory system urgently needed rebuilding.

Past Zhengzhou, Kaifeng was not far off. Liu Chengyou had grown quite familiar with this road.

"Zhao Li!" On the imperial carriage, Liu Chengyou leaned against a wide cushion, his indifferent gaze sweeping over this censor.

"Your servant is here."

Zhao Li sat on a small stool at the carriage's entrance, his body tense, looking very nervous. His entire family had been "muddled" into being summoned to the army by imperial guard soldiers bearing the Emperor's edict, accompanying the journey eastward. After several days, he had finally been summoned again—and was honored to board the imperial carriage for questioning.

"If I were to leave you in Luoyang, do you know what your fate would be?" Liu Chengyou asked.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Li thought seriously for a moment, a trace of bitterness involuntarily appearing on his face as he shook his head: "Given Duke Zheng's methods, your servant fears he could hardly be preserved. Demotion and exile might even be a good outcome—perhaps even implicating my family..."

"In that case, my summoning you to the Eastern Capital to serve as a Palace Censor is no small favor. Do you acknowledge this favor?" Liu Chengyou asked languidly.

Zhao Li immediately bowed: "Your servant thanks Your Majesty for the favor!"

Liu Chengyou's reclining posture grew even more languid. Withdrawing his gaze, he asked: "Your temperament may be fierce, but you are not too pedantic. Since you knew that impeaching Duke Zheng and the others could bring disaster upon your family, why did you risk remonstrance?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Li said solemnly: "Your servant observed that governance in the Western Capital had decayed to the point where reform was imperative. For the sake of the state and the people, I could not concern myself with much else!"

Hearing his words, a smile involuntarily rose on Liu Chengyou's face. In a slightly mocking tone, he muttered to himself: "The Great Han has been founded for less than two years, and I have been on the throne for a mere half year. I never expected that in the Western Capital, Luoyang, there would be a minor eighth-rank official I had never heard of, worrying about state affairs and forgetting his own safety in loyalty—truly rare..."

As he spoke, Liu Chengyou watched Zhao Li's expression—nervous, yet carrying a hint of composure.

"I did not punish Shi Hongzhao. I wonder if you are disappointed?" After a few glances, Liu Chengyou suddenly asked.

To Liu Chengyou's surprise, Zhao Li shook his head: "Your servant is but a remonstrance official. Offering counsel and admonition is only to fulfill my duty and keep Your Majesty's ears and eyes alert. How to handle matters rests entirely with Your Majesty's will. Your servant dare not say more, nor dare think more!"

Liu Chengyou's eyebrows rose slightly. Of all Zhao Li's words, this one sentence truly pleased him and suited his intent. Slowly sitting up straight, Liu Chengyou studied Zhao Li seriously, his gaze drifting slightly: "Do you know how I view your not fearing the powerful, speaking frankly before the sovereign, and impeaching Shi Hongzhao?"

A hint of trepidation welled up between his brows. Zhao Li lowered his head and said in a low voice: "Your servant does not know."

"Reporting hearsay to curry favor through forthrightness!" The cold assessment was spat directly from Liu Chengyou's mouth.

At the sudden words, astonishment flashed through Zhao Li's eyes, and his face went white in an instant. He shrank his body, bowing even lower. His lips trembled: "Your servant, your servant..."

"If I were a fatuous ruler, or if great power had fallen into other hands, your life—and even your family's lives—would be hard to preserve." Liu Chengyou said, looking at him.

"Your Majesty's words are too heavy!" Zhao Li could not help but knock his head heavily on the ground.

Seeing this, Liu Chengyou murmured softly again: "Of course, if I truly were a fatuous ruler, you probably wouldn't have had the chance to see me either..."

"Rise!" Seeing that Zhao Li had been quite frightened, Liu Chengyou shifted his crossed legs to sit more steadily, his expression returning to its usual calm composure.

"Th-thank you, Your Majesty." Zhao Li rose, still tense. Due to the jolting of the carriage, he nearly stumbled and lost his composure before the sovereign.

Liu Chengyou waved his hand and said in a deep voice: "Since the late Tang, the realm has been in chaos for decades. Rites and music have collapsed, the cardinal bonds are not upheld, and the court's authority has been damaged. The supervisory system is now practically a decoration, with almost no credibility at all. In Luoyang, a minor censor like you daring to vigorously denounce the powerful before me—that does rather surprise me."

Listening to Liu Chengyou's measured words, Zhao Li's suspended heart slowly settled, though he still kept his back bowed and hands clasped.

"Then do your job well as a remonstrance official and admonishing minister! I hope that when you reach the Eastern Capital, your resolve will not change! Your words may not be pleasant to hear, but if they can serve to awaken and enlighten, that would be a good thing for me and for the state!" Raising his hand and moving his fingers, Liu Chengyou instructed: "Withdraw!"

"Yes!" Zhao Li bowed his head in acknowledgment.

The imperial carriage paused briefly. When Zhao Li stepped down and his feet hit the ground, he truly stumbled—falling most inelegantly. Helped up by a soldier, even with his feet on solid ground, his legs could not help but go weak.

Raising his eyes to respectfully look at the imperial carriage, Zhao Li took a deep breath, his feelings extraordinarily complex. This Emperor was too clever. Serving a sovereign was like living with a tiger. Yet, if the Emperor were not wise and diligent in governance, how could men like him have the opportunity to strive and advance?

On the carriage, Liu Chengyou slowly lay back down again, closing his eyes to rest.

Fierce and unyielding he might truly be, but utterly rigid and naive—not quite. In this age when warriors held sway, truly pedantic men did not live long.

Just recently, Zhang Peng, the Deputy Commissioner of the Chengde Army, had been traveling south to the capital to report on his duties when he passed through Daming Prefecture. There, he angered Gao Xingzhou with his words, was seized by him, and a memorial was being sent to the court requesting his execution.