Chapter 352: Mutual Trust Between Ruler and Ministers, the Grain Grows Tall and Lush

Zhang Dai and Qi Biaojia left Suzhou prefecture and traveled north by boat all the way; within a few days they reached the borders of Huai'an prefecture.

At this time the tribute grain boats from the southern provinces had already delivered last year's tribute grain to Tongzhou and were now returning one after another.

Across the broad river, boats stretched bow to stern in an unbroken line.

Those returning empty boats were not idle; their holds were piled high with northern furs, sundry goods, official salt and smuggled salt from the Huai River region, as well as Shandong soybeans, Northern Metropolitan Region cotton, and the like.

Work chants, shouts and curses, and the cries of riverside peddlers hawking for customers all mingled together — it was a scene of extraordinary bustle and clamor.

When ordinary officials or gentry traveled north, once they reached this point they need only continue north along the canal.

Even if they worried about the risk of boats being wrecked and lives lost when passing the canal locks, they could simply hire carts and horses at a few key lock gates and switch between water and land — that was all there was to it. This had been the safest method for traveling north and south for a hundred years.

To say nothing of using a post-station tally to directly requisition horses and laborers from the relay stations, which saved even more money and effort.

Yet Qi Biaojia and Zhang Dai, upon reaching this bustling place, halted their journey in Shanyang County on the southern bank of the Huai River.

In the county seat they spent money to hire two armed escorts, and after settling the terms for board, wages, and family allowances, they promptly reversed direction and headed west along the Huai River. This had been the route the two had agreed upon before setting out.

To assess the quality of the new policies, going to the Northern Metropolitan Region or the capital was naturally a fine choice.

But apart from those, there was one other place that would let them see the truest state of the new policies.

Zhenyang County, Runing Prefecture, Henan.

This utterly insignificant, ordinary county on the map of the realm was precisely where that elusive Commissioner Li, who appeared and vanished like a ghost in the Great Ming Times, had first struck — therefore, to assess the quality of the new policies, at this moment in time, nowhere under heaven was more suitable than Zhenyang County.

If the governance of such a remote place could be carried out in earnest, then the new policies everywhere else under heaven would naturally sweep forward like splitting bamboo.

But if this place remained mired in corrupt governance and bureaucratic formalities, then it would prove that the new policies, after all, had failed through laxity, haste, and negligence — just like so many reforms of the past.

In that case, however, the current abuses here would serve perfectly as the subject of Qi Biaojia's first memorial upon entering the capital!

As for the title of the memorial — whether to call it "A Petition to Reform the Frivolity of the New Policies and Sink One's Heart into Earnest Work" or "Suggestions for Improving the Implementation of the New Policies — Taking Zhenyang County as an Example" — that could be carefully weighed later.

With all matters properly arranged, after a brief rest of one day, the party set out once more.

Yet once they were on the move, what they saw along the way always left a stifling heaviness in the heart.

It was now the end of the sixth month. Across the Central Plain, the farming households who planted winter wheat had already finished harvesting at the beginning of the month, drying the grain and storing it in granaries.

But those who planted spring-sown crops like millet and broomcorn millet still had to endure another half month or even a full month before they could look forward to the autumn harvest.

And by the dynasty's fixed regulation, summer taxes began to be collected in the fifth month and had to be gathered in full by the seventh month.

These spring and autumn taxes took no account of whether your land was planted with summer-harvest crops like wheat or autumn-harvest crops like millet or rice — when the time came, the taxes absolutely had to be paid.

No matter how much of these taxes ultimately made it into the imperial treasury, at the local level, the annual tax collection had always been a matter of collecting more, never less. As Zhang Dai traveled west along the Huai River, the further he went, the worse his mood became.

Along the way, local maladministration and the bitter hardships of the common people appeared in an endless stream.

At tax collection points at crossroads, petty clerks tipped the measuring dipper and kicked the measuring bushel without the slightest scruple.

At village entrances, the Proclamation Pavilions — originally places where village elders mediated disputes — had in this season become instead places where ruffians and local bullies forced farming households to sign away their fields under duress. The wails of common folk selling their children, the bleak silhouettes of families broken and fleeing into the wilderness — these had not yet reached the point of filling the roads or being visible everywhere.

But within a hundred li, to encounter three or four such wretched affairs was utterly commonplace.

One must understand that this year, the Huai-Si region had been blessed with what could be considered rare favorable weather.

The Yellow River had not burst its banks, nor had there been any large-scale flooding, locust plagues, or severe drought.

Yet even so, this land, ten months after the transmigrator descended upon this world, still wallowed in the mire of the past.

The great storms stirred up in the capital.

The impassioned heroic declarations of the Jiangnan scholars, still ringing in their ears.

It was as if none of it had ever happened.

Qi Biaojia had already seen plenty of such things in Fujian and felt no great stirring in his heart;

he simply traveled on, recording the conditions of each locality in his notebook as he went.

But Zhang Dai could not do the same.

Though he was already thirty years old this year, he had always idled about in the vicinity of the Qinhuai River.

The furthest his travels had ever taken him, truth be told, was no more than places like Suzhou and Yingtian. The lower Yangtze region had fertile land, flourishing trade, and all manner of handicrafts such as cotton cloth and silk weaving.

So long as a household was not excessively indolent or tainted by vicious habits, they could always find a bowl of rice to eat, no matter what.

Thus, all things considered, incidents of people being driven to ruin and flight were truly not as numerous in the Wu-Kuai region as they were here in the Huai-Si region.

All along the journey, Zhang Dai would always call out to stop such abuses, even taking out loose silver to aid those families.

But he could help those in Huai'an — he could not help those in Fengyang.

He could help for a moment, but he could not help forever.

And so, as they traveled west, the further they went, the more silent Zhang Dai became.

Even Qi Biaojia put down his brush and stopped recording.

Because there was no need to record any longer.

Perhaps one might occasionally encounter a county magistrate with a shred of conscience, but in the vast majority of places, the state of the world was uniformly one of devouring men. After finally crossing the Huai-Si region and passing through Fengyang, the party turned into the territory of Henan.

But what met them head-on was still that same murky, benighted aspect of the age.

Until this day.

The party passed Xincai County, entered the borders of Zhenyang County, and proceeded onward for roughly another ten li.

Suddenly, something was different.

What made them rein in their horses were the wooden placards by the roadside.

Along the official highway, roughly every li or so, a wooden placard stood planted perfectly straight and upright.

Zhang Dai dismounted, walked up to a placard, and read the notice aloud, character by character.

"The Imperial grace is boundless, reaching down in pity to the humble folk. Now Zhenyang County, by decree, has undertaken to restore order and reform governance with new policies. We hereby establish three covenants with all the rural folk of the county. Let every one of you listen and take heed."

"First: Henceforth, all miscellaneous corvée labor duties in the county — horse-grooming, grain transport, and the like — are entirely abolished. Each household shall no longer rotate through labor service but need only pay taxes according to acreage. The various labor duties shall be handled by the county office hiring men to carry them out."

"Second: For this year's summer taxes, the tax rates are clearly fixed, with not the slightest over-collection or excess levy. For top-grade fields, only three sheng per mu shall be collected; for middle-grade fields, two sheng; for bottom-grade fields, one sheng. This month coincides with the wheat harvest, and silver is dear while grain is cheap. The county magistrate, pitying the hardships of the humble folk, sets the commutation price of unhulled millet at three qian and wheat at four qian. When you good villagers pay your taxes, payment in kind is acceptable, and payment in silver is also acceptable."

"Third: For those villagers who previously fled famine or evaded labor duties, so long as you are willing to return home and settle down to farm in peace, all past offenses shall not be pursued, and all former arrears shall be wiped clean with a single stroke. The county office shall also distribute seed grain, plow oxen, farming tools, and the like to assist you in establishing your homes and livelihoods."

"Lastly, a word to all you good folk."

"If there are any black-hearted, shameless underlings and clerks, or powerful clan bullies, who dare to monopolize tax collection, levy extra charges, or forge title deeds to seize the common people's land — you need only come to the county yamen, beat the drum, and lodge an accusation! Once verified, their property shall be confiscated at once, and half of it shall be rewarded to the accuser! This I swear without fail!" The proclamation contained not a single classical particle — it was crude and direct.

And as for the so-called "three covenants," they could hardly be called brilliant statecraft.

But Zhang Dai's lips moved, and then he laughed. "Youwen, it seems your policy essay will go unwritten."

Qi Biaojia, however, burst out laughing. "Zhang Zongzi, you make me sound like some treacherous minister hoping for chaos across the realm!"

He raised his riding crop and pointed ahead. "Come! Let us look further in!"

It was no wonder that the two men, having seen only the proclamation and not a single field, already felt this place was well governed.

In an age so utterly benighted, a single county magistrate could easily alter the condition of a whole county's people.

The principle was, in truth, the same as the three simple laws that Emperor Gaozu of Han made when he entered Guanzhong.

It was not that the three laws Liu Bang promulgated were so very brilliant, nor that some Daoist notion of governing by non-action was so very subtle.

In the end, in an age already sunk to the deepest darkness, simply having a little conscience was enough to accomplish a great many things.

The party turned their horses and rode on.

Sure enough, what unfolded before their eyes was a landscape utterly different from the past several days.

Along the roadside fields, though patches of abandoned land could still be seen here and there, most places had been planted with crops. Even where no crops grew, the land looked freshly reclaimed, as though being rested to restore its fertility.

On the distant slopes, swathes of shimmering gold — that was foxtail millet nearing ripeness. This crop was sown in early spring and could not be harvested until the middle or latter part of the seventh month.

In the flat fields elsewhere, expanse after expanse of lush green stretched on, the leaves dotted here and there with pale purple blossoms.

This, however, was the soybean that Jiangnan liked to plant as a catch crop after the summer harvest.

What most astonished the two men was that in several fine fields near the water source, Qi Biaojia actually discovered a sizable area of sweet potato fields!

This thing, even in present-day Jiangnan, was an exceedingly rare curiosity; even Zhang Dai had never seen it. Qi Biaojia had only recognized this broad-leaved crop thanks to his years in Fujian.

Some time ago, in an episode of *The Loyal Record of the Liao Sea*, the author had used the mouth of that Commissioner Li to introduce sweet potatoes — a high-yield, drought-resistant crop — at great length. At the time, Commissioner Li was ostensibly inspecting military farmland in Liaodong, yet inexplicably struck up a conversation about sweet potatoes with a farmer in the fields, and praised them lavishly. But that chapter was received very poorly by readers.

The prose was crude, the transition forced.

The folk storytellers, finding the chapter utterly flat, would generally skip it entirely, at most keeping only that golden line: "If an official won't champion his people's cause, he might as well go home and sell sweet potatoes."

Many scholars, in private, mocked it even more, saying that for *Times* editor-in-chief Ruan Dacheng to write such a piece was sheer creative exhaustion — that to curry favor with the throne, he had thrown away even a literatus's dignity.

But officials like Qi Biaojia understood that by writing that chapter regardless of his own literary reputation, Ruan Dacheng had only further cemented his standing in the Emperor's regard.

Yet understanding was one thing — Qi Biaojia had never imagined that Zhenyang County, a place deep in the Central Plains and far from the storm of the new policies, would have sweet potatoes in the ground so early!

But where had this place gotten sweet potatoes?

Could it be that batch that Xiong Wencan, after taking up his post in Fujian, had gathered and shipped to Shaanxi?

Had Zhenyang County intercepted a small portion of them en route?

Qi Biaojia wanted to ask someone, but he did not meet the farmer or the owner of those fields, so he had to let it go.

The party rode on, pausing now and then.

Zhang Dai would frequently ride up to the edges of the fields and pull aside an old farmer at work for a chat.

Along the way, they even encountered two young government students surveying the waterworks by the Ru River.

After several rounds of inquiry, the two men finally pieced together what earth-shaking changes had occurred in Zhenyang County in just over half a year. The source of it all began in the ninth month of last year.

Several Embroidered Guard horsemen had arrived suddenly, stormed straight into the county yamen, and clapped County Magistrate Wang Chengqi — who was still listening to music in the rear hall — in chains and hauled him off to the capital.

At that moment, the whole of Zhenyang County was stunned.

They had to understand: old muddle-head Wang Chengqi, for all his greed, had never once skimped on the tribute sent up to his superiors.

Locally, he had even built a living shrine to Eunuch Wei and personally inscribed a poem for it.

With such a show of devotion, how on earth had he offended the all-powerful Wei, the Nine Thousand Years?

It was not until mid-tenth month, when the first issue of the *Great Ming Times* made its winding way to the county, that everyone suddenly understood.

Wei Zhongxian had fallen!

Even more shocking, tiny Zhenyang County had actually made the front page of the newspaper!

By the end of the twelfth month, the new county magistrate had finally arrived, braving wind and snow.

It was none other than the former Bureau Director of the Ceremonial Affairs Section in the Nanjing Ministry of Rites — Zheng Eryang.

He had compiled and sorted all his previous policies on governing princely estates and taxation, and had written numerous statecraft essays and policy papers.

And so he had successfully gotten himself demoted from a full fifth-rank post to his present position as a seventh-rank county magistrate.

"This petty subject knows not what rank is — I seek only a substantive post where I may do substantive work!"

The moment those words got out, many bureau directors and section officials in both capitals slapped their thighs in bitter regret, crying out that they had not thought of such a shameless line themselves. But had it been only that, Zhenyang County would at most have had a somewhat easier time of it.

Magistrate Zheng was indeed a good official. After taking office, he took no bribes and seized nothing, even restraining his own servants from any encroachment.

And he had, in truth, been steadily carrying out benevolent policies — encouraging agriculture and sericulture, lightening corvée and taxes.

There were results, to be sure, but in the end, they still circled within the traditional institutional framework of the Great Ming.

The real tidal wave did not truly surge until the third month of this year.

The newly appointed Governor of Henan, Fan Jingwen, had arrived.

He had not only brought several dozen men to take up his post — he had brought the court's policies with him!

In all of Henan, there were four new-policy pilot counties.

Luoyang County occupied one of the large-county slots.

As for the other two small counties —

One was Shanzhou (Sanmenxia).

The other was Tong Pass Guard. Of these two places, one was a sub-prefecture, the other was outright a guard station — both entirely outside the normal standard of a new-policy pilot "county" — yet both were still being treated as new-policy "pilot counties."

Anyone with clear eyes could see at a glance that this arrangement was entirely clustered around the western edge of Henan, near the borders of Shaanxi and Shanxi.

The intent — to shore up the border regions and guard against unrest west of the passes — was self-evident.

And as for Zhenyang County…

It was a place deep in the heart of the plains, its entire territory flat, a land that throughout history no strategist ever bothered to contest.

If not for that report, if not for Zheng Eryang — a benchmark of a man who voluntarily sank down to do real work — needing encouragement and support,

In the overall plan for Henan, this New Policy slot would never in a lifetime have fallen on tiny Zhenyang's head.

But once you've got the slot, you've got it.

The policy flexibility of a pilot county, the degree of court talent support, the concentration of resources — it could almost compare to the Northern Metropolitan Region in every respect.

Zheng Eryang reported: the county treasury was empty, the ever-normal granaries and all other granaries were completely depleted, and famine relief administration had nothing to fall back on.

The Northern Metropolitan New Policy Group, the Ministry of Justice, and the Ministry of Revenue jointly replied:

Regarding the matter of allocating confiscated silver to the county for its use.

Investigation shows that the former Zhenyang County Magistrate Wang Chengqi was convicted and sentenced to confiscation of forty-eight thousand one hundred taels of illicit silver, of which five thousand two hundred taels in ready silver have now been recovered.

It is approved that this silver be allocated in advance to the Zhenyang county treasury, to be retained in its entirety for local New Policy expenditures. The county officials are charged with keeping accurate registers for record and audit.

Zheng Eryang reported again: in the Ruyang region, local bandits were numerous — of these, five parts were civilian bandits, five parts were military bandits.

The civilian bandits could be captured; the military bandits were hard to deal with.

This was because when the county and department tried to arrest them, they fled back to the guard station, and since local civil and military jurisdictions were separate, there was no way to bring them under control.

The Northern Metropolitan New Policy Group, the Ministry of War, and the Five Chief Military Commissions jointly replied:

Regarding the matter of exempting rotational troops and reorganizing camp forces to suppress bandits.

Investigation shows that the Runing Defense Chiliarchy currently has a paper strength of one thousand five hundred forty-four men, of whom seven hundred fourteen were originally spring-rotation troops of the Capital Camps.

It is now specially approved that the officers and men of this chiliarchy be exempted from the spring rotation duty of proceeding to the capital for garrison service, and all be retained locally under the Fort Commander.

The Chiliarch of this chiliarchy is charged with strictly supervising all banner officers, putting military preparations in order, intensifying drill and training, and conducting nearby search-and-suppression operations against local bandits within the territory.

The bandit menace is to be swept clean and peace restored to the region within a limit of three months.

Should there be any dereliction of duty, private collusion, or shielding of offenders, a dispatch shall be issued at once to investigate and deal with the responsible military officers according to law.

Zheng Eryang reported again: the assistant and deputy officials of Zhenyang County were all corrupt, indolent, muddled, and useless, unfit for major assignments. He requested the selection and transfer of capable and dedicated officials to take up their posts.

The Northern Metropolitan New Policy Group, the Ministry of Justice, and the Ministry of Personnel jointly replied:

Regarding the matter of concluding the trial of Wang Chengqi's case and replacing the subordinate staff of Zhenyang.

The case of former County Magistrate Wang Chengqi has now been fully adjudicated and concluded. The county's Vice Magistrate, Constable, and all assistant and deputy officials and clerks have been arrested in their entirety and escorted to the capital to await trial.

All assistant and deputy staff of the Zhenyang county yamen are to be dismissed and replaced, with other worthy personnel selected to fill the posts.

The Constable has already set out for his post; for the vacancies of Registrar, Instructor, and the like, suitable personnel shall be selected within one month and proceed to their posts to assume their duties.

Zheng Eryang reported, Zheng Eryang reported again, Zheng Eryang reported and reported and reported…

The Northern Metropolitan New Policy Group replied, the Northern Metropolitan New Policy Group replied again, the Northern Metropolitan New Policy Group replied and replied and replied…

The New Policy was simply far too rushed.

So rushed that many new matters did not even have a dedicated agency to take them on.

So rushed that the supervision of the New Policy across all thirteen provinces of the realm somehow still fell, inexplicably, under the overall coordination of the Northern Metropolitan New Policy Group.

And the person responsible for interfacing with the various matters of Zhenyang County — pulling together the relevant departments for meetings, aligning every item, and then issuing the official reply — was not even a full secretary from the Secretariat, but merely an intern of the Secretariat, Li Guozhen (son of the Earl of Xiangcheng).

In this benighted world of today,

Having a conscience alone is already very good.

But if that conscience also receives a little modest support, and is joined with a little personal ambition,

Then the things that can be done — I fear they may be rather extraordinary.