Chapter 29: The Wei River Unwashed, the Poll Tax Rises

The money pooled by each family was, of course, not the already-banned wuzhu coins of the Former Han, but the current dynasty's newest legal tender, the "spade coin."

This spade coin imitated the spade coins of the Zhou dynasty; it was not the round coin with a square hole commonly seen on television, but was angular, shaped like a shovel blade. It was two cun and five fen long, one cun wide, its inscription in suspended-needle seal script, the right reading "Huo" and the left "Bu" — it looked quite exquisite. It weighed twenty-five zhu, equivalent to twenty-five of the smaller-value huoquan coins.

Diwu Lun had the gift money from each family gathered together, and also added the "living expenses" Diwu Ba had given him — twenty thousand cash.

Altogether eighty thousand cash, which was 3,200 spade coins, heavy enough.

Diwu Lun picked up a few coins, his hand feeling the suspended-needle seal script on them, and said with emotion: "My uncles, fathers, and clan brothers have given me gift money because, unlike in the commanderies and counties, in Chang'an every matter must be transacted with coin, or else one violates the laws and must go serve at the mint. You all feared that I, alone as a Palace Gentleman, would lack funds and break a rule with a single move, and also be laughed at by my fellow Palace Gentlemen from other commanderies."

"But I also know that this money did not come easily."

Diwu Lun said: "In the eighth month, the court conducts the annual census and headcount, inspecting household registrations. Every person aged fifteen and above must pay 120 cash — this is the poll tax; those aged seven to fourteen each pay 23 cash. Added together, a household of five to eight people must scrape together several hundred to a thousand cash every year, and they may not substitute grain — they can only take their household grain, fodder, and cloth to trade at the market."

Because Fourth Xian was present, Diwu Lun refrained from attacking the profiteering merchants who drove down grain prices, and only said: "In recent years, taxes and levies have been irregular, and many people, unable to gather the full poll tax, have been forced to serve the government to repay it. Some were sent to the Western Sea Commandery to fight the Qiang tribes, some hauled grain carts north to the Xiongnu. Leaving their homes, battered by cold and heat, they often die on the road."

Every ward had people like this; those who had come to see Diwu Lun off were not only the heads of each clan, but also some ordinary folk watching the excitement. These words struck a chord in their hearts.

At this point, Diwu Lun actually threw the coins in his hand heavily back into the cart with a clatter, and said: "Therefore, the clansmen and villagers of Linqu Township need money more than I do! At worst, I can eat a little less and wear my clothes a little older, but if you lack money, you must pay with your lives!"

In the previous dynasty, Bao Xuan spoke of seven destructions and seven deaths; among them, the second destruction was county officials collecting the military tax and land tax many times a year; the third destruction was greedy officials extorting bribes; the fifth destruction was harsh officials frequently conscripting corvée labor, making the people miss the farming and sericulture seasons.

Conditions in the Xin Dynasty had not improved; under the threat of the seven destructions, ordinary households never had enough coin for the year, let alone with Wang Mang launching a currency reform at the drop of a hat, dealing a heavy blow to families who had saved coin against disaster. A fall into the pit, a gain in your wit — everyone could only scrape together money at the last moment, and if it was not enough, they would seek high-interest loans from the great houses.

Diwu Lun had inquired; the powerful family in this township most fond of lending at interest was none other than the First clan! The interest was not considered high, merely twenty or thirty percent, but Diwu Lun intended to dig up even this bit of profit from their house!

Having spoken, Diwu Lun had the eighty thousand cash divided in two: forty thousand placed on his own cart, and the other forty thousand carried before the heads of each clan.

He stepped forward, bowed to them with clasped hands, and said: "Since this money was contributed by uncles, fathers, and brothers, it would be better to pool it together, call it 'Righteous Coin,' and entrust it for the time being to my grandfather for safekeeping!"

"Like the Righteous Granary, the Righteous Coin will be lent exclusively to those who, because of crop failure in a disaster year, cannot gather the full poll tax and child tax and urgently need money. But unlike the Righteous Granary, it is not limited to the Fifth Ward; from the Third to the Eighth, every clan may have its head write a contract as proof and come to my house to borrow. Repay it once the hardest season has passed — no interest charged! No interest charged! No interest charged!"

He emphasized it three times in a loud voice. At these words, before the clan heads could respond, the ordinary folk and tenant farmers watching were first stunned, then burst into loud cheers.

"Lord Fifth's lofty righteousness!"

This cry was so loud and fierce, while the clan heads looked at each other, all caught off guard.

Because the money from the Fifth Ward was mixed in too, it was not entirely "generosity at others' expense," though they themselves occasionally lent money for profit. But on second thought, ever since the decree on royal fields and private retainers was issued, it was indeed very hard for minor strongmen to force indebted farmers to sell their land and become slaves through lending, so the damage to each family's interests was not too great.

Moreover, by doing this, Diwu Lun had seized the moral high ground of clan mutual aid; whoever opposed would be cast aside by their clansmen.

So the clan heads could only force smiles, gladly agree, and express that with Diwu Ba overseeing it, they all believed this "Righteous Coin" could be fair and just, benefiting the township.

Diba Zhi, however, was even more astonished by Diwu Lun; as he was leaving, he pulled Diba Jiao aside and urged: "You and Boyu are going to Chang'an together — he as a Palace Gentleman, you to the Imperial Academy. Though there is some distance between you, you must still visit often; do not let your friendship grow cold!"

Diba Jiao was baffled, thinking, isn't that a matter of course? After all, he had recently come to greatly admire Diwu Lun; even though Diwu Lun was a few years older, he was willing to follow in his wake.

Only after his son and Diwu Lun had departed one after the other in their carts did Diba Zhi lower his hand, pat Fourth Xian on the back, and say in a low voice: "I said earlier that by the time the younger generation takes charge, the Eighth clan would have to live at the mercy of the Fifth."

"But now it seems, why wait until we are a hundred years gone! From this day forward, not only the Eighth clan, but all the Di clans of Linqu Township will have to bow to Diwu Lun!"

……

A mere forty thousand cash could not even buy half a house in Chang'an, yet it made the Fifth clan the undisputed leader of the entire township and dealt a heavy blow to the First clan — this transaction was undoubtedly a huge profit.

And since the poll tax and child tax are collected each year in the eighth month, and this year's had already been collected, for nearly a year the Righteous Coin would not be touched at all; there was no worry of it being borrowed empty in an instant. It could even be taken out first to do some productive enterprise; Diwu Lun had plenty of time to maneuver.

As coincidence would have it, that very morning, those several dozen idle young bravos who had wanted to become retainers at the Fifth house and eat idle meals but were refused, had just been indignantly proclaiming in the village lanes: "Diwu Lun's chivalry is false — righteous enough to bend a strong bow? Yet for a few pecks of grain, he refuses us knights who seek his patronage."

As a result, that afternoon their faces were loudly slapped; hundreds of jubilant villagers ran home, spreading word of the Righteous Coin everywhere, shouting: "Diwu Boyu's lofty righteousness."

One told ten, ten told a hundred; the voice of the laboring propertyless majority, in the end, still drowned out the minority of lumpen-proletarian rogues.

Thus, beyond filial piety and fraternal duty, Diwu Lun's "benevolence and righteousness" finally became the consensus of all.

As Diwu Lun's light carriage left his hometown and headed south to Chang'an, a catchy nickname spread swiftly through Changling County and even Liewei Commandery.

"Filial and Righteous Diwu the Fifth!"

……

"Boyu has finally arrived."

Five kilometers southwest of Linqu Township, at the Lanchi Palace, Jing Dan at last saw the carts and horses of Diwu Lun's household. When they had gone a few days earlier to formally pay their respects to Zhang Zhan, they had agreed to travel south together.

"I have kept you waiting, Brother Sunqing. The villagers and clansmen saw me off, and it delayed me too long."

Diwu Lun quickly apologized, and had Diba Jiao come pay his respects to Jing Dan. Only then did he discover that Wang Long, the "literary fool" of the Qiongcheng Marquis Wang Yuan's house, was also there; his household's carts, horses, and luggage were more than his and Jing Dan's combined.

But Wang Long was still in that dazed state, sitting upright in his cart, staring blankly at the stones in the Wei River, likely pondering new rhapsody phrases again. Only after Diwu Lun called him twice did he respond.

Having met Wang Long several times, Jing Dan was already clear about his temperament, and only laughed: "Wenshan's manner before us is of no consequence, but once you enter the capital and encounter the several hundred people serving as Palace Gentlemen alongside us, and even the high officials and ministers, that demeanor of yours will easily give offense."

Wang Long was a bit embarrassed; when not composing, he was still normal. Pointing at the abandoned gardens and palace pavilions before them, he said: "It is only that the scene stirs emotion. This Lanchi Palace was built when the First Emperor of Qin diverted the Wei River to make a pond, a hundred kilometers east to west, ten kilometers north to south, piling earth to form Penglai, carving stone into a whale over four hundred meters long — how magnificent it was in those days. Now, after war and flood, the stone whale is broken, only a tail left exposed above the water, its full form impossible to see. I cannot help but sigh."

Diba Jiao, hearing this, furrowed his brow slightly. He too had studied, but lacked a literatus's petty sentiments, and only shook his head: "What use is magnificence? The First Emperor of Qin mobilized corvée labor, hauled stone to Ganquan, dug water for ponds and gardens, all to satisfy his own desires, and even a folk ballad spread: 'The Wei River unwashed, the poll tax rises!' But the Han diverted water for the Chengguo Canal, irrigating a vast expanse of fields, benefiting later generations for a hundred years — the superiority is clear at a glance."

One was a literatus, the other a pure classicist; the same scene reflected in their eyes, yet what they saw was different. As for these words praising the Former Han, though true, they could not be spoken carelessly. Diwu Lun shot Diba Jiao a glare, telling him to know his place and not invite trouble with his words at the Imperial Academy.

Wang Long was by nature disinclined to argue; he did not dispute it, only nodded silently, and then said: "Xiao Yan is not going with us?"

Wang Wenshan was lost in his own world again — wasn't he asking a question he already knew the answer to? Xiao Yan, as a marquis's son, had always been arrogant; added to that, he still begrudged Diwu Lun's latecomer's rise, and would be even less willing to travel in their company. He had long since taken his carriage and escort and gone ahead to Chang'an — though it slipped the mind to mention that Wang Mang had changed the Former Han's Chang'an to Chang'an; this time it was not an antonym but a homophone pun, otherwise the capital's name would have become "Short Chaos."

The four traveled together, departing from Lanchi Palace. Diwu Lun had not been to this area since his transmigration, and felt the surrounding scenery was both familiar and strange.

By the time the sun slanted west, they had reached the Wei River.

The broad Wei River split the Guanzhong Plain in two. North of the river, among the plains of the mausoleums, water channels crisscrossed, and the trees across the vast, fertile fields were withered and yellow, a scene of desolation. South of the river, five kilometers away, the high walls and great towers of Chang'an were visible, its hundred sixty wards linked by smoke and cloud; beside it lay the Shangyou forbidden park, its wooded foothills and marshes still holding some green.

And connecting the two banks was a long bridge like a rainbow — one of the three bridges over the Wei, called Heng Bridge, also known as the Middle Wei Bridge. A stone-pier and timber-deck bridge, it was six zhang wide, 380 paces long from north to south, and was the necessary route from Liewei Commandery to Chang'an.

At this moment, it was the time of the evening market within Chang'an, which should have been the busiest time of day on Heng Bridge. But a group of soldiers, kerchiefs tied on their heads, ring-pommel sabers at their waists, wearing lamellar armor, were blocking the pedestrians, carts, and horses crossing the bridge, causing long lines to form on both banks. Diwu Lun and his companions could only follow far behind.

Judging by this display, some important personage was likely about to pass.

Jing Dan, who had been to Chang'an more often on official business and was more widely experienced, said to the group: "It must be at least one of the Four Supports or the Three Excellencies passing by, or perhaps an imperial prince or grandson; otherwise they would not clear the road and block the bridge."

His words had barely ended when, sure enough, they saw a procession of carts, horses, and guards of immense momentum approaching from the opposite bank.

……

PS: Recommending my good bro Ji Cha's new book, "This Is My Planet."

Ji Cha is a famous LSP in our circles, the chieftain of the harem faction. His new book's genre is something called "space opera xianxia" — I don't get it. I read it all night and only saw three keywords between the lines: My, Planet!

As for what kind of planet, go see for yourself.