Chapter 110: Sealing the Residence

Night fell, and the Wu residence was ablaze with lights, guests streaming in and out without cease. Several servants stood at the gate, their mouths grinning so wide they might crack, endlessly clasping their hands in congratulations.

Before long, they spotted three men dressed much like merchants staggering over. The servants at the gate, without a second thought, hurried forward and said with a smile:

"Where might you gentlemen be from?"

The Chongzhen Emperor held his head high and said nothing. Instead, Chen Qiyu stepped forward a few paces, pressed a few taels of loose silver into the servant's hand, and pulled him aside, saying:

"We're merchants from Tongzhou, in the jewelry trade. You understand—business is hard these days, brother. Do us a favor and let us go in for a quick look around, that's all."

The servant weighed the loose silver in his hand, a lewd grin spreading across his face. Seeing more guests arriving with gifts behind them, he finally nodded, not giving these traveling peddlers a second thought, and turned to greet the newcomers.

"Aiyo, Boss Li has arrived! Please, please, come in!"

"Manager Zhao, why bring gifts? You're a regular—come, come, please enter!"

The Chongzhen Emperor watched this scene, his curiosity growing. A mere ninth-rank commissioner of the Tax Bureau drew this many people fawning over him?

And this residence was nothing like that of an ordinary ninth-rank petty official—even his own appointed Embroidered Uniform Guard Regional Military Commissioner, Li Ruolian, who held the rank of proper third-grade, had a lesser estate. Could it really be that the prestige of being a relative of the imperial house was behind all this?

He had just stepped inside and walked a few paces when he heard a commotion behind him. Many people stood on both sides, waiting for something. Before long, a sedan chair stopped at the gate, and the man who descended was someone the Chongzhen Emperor knew well—a familiar face from the court.

"Vice Minister of War Jin Zhijun—why would he come here?" Fang Zhenghua muttered, casting a questioning glance at the Chongzhen Emperor, as if asking whether they should make a move and seize him.

This affair was growing more and more interesting. The Vice Minister of War was also a proper third-grade post; Hong Chengchou had once sat in that position, and it carried considerable weight and authority.

Though Jin Zhijun meant nothing to the Chongzhen Emperor, before the Tax Bureau commissioner he was a veritable mountain. For him to condescend to come here, there had to be something fishy going on.

At that thought, the Chongzhen Emperor did not rush. Hands clasped behind his back, he sauntered into the main hall with a swagger, leading Chen Qiyu and Fang Zhenghua on a random stroll, casting a glance at everything they passed.

"This gentleman has an unfamiliar face—not from the capital, are you?"

The Chongzhen Emperor was idly wandering when he suddenly heard this from behind. He followed the voice over, sat down, and asked with a smile:

"How do you know I'm not from the capital?"

"Heh heh."

The man chuckled at this, clasped his hands, and said: "This one is Wang Hongxing. Wang Hongzuo, the Vice Minister of Revenue, is my elder brother. Only, my brother walks the official road, while I walk the merchant road."

"And might you be, sir?"

"So Brother Wang is quite the big figure." The Chongzhen Emperor waved a hand and said: "This humble one's surname is Qi, from Tongzhou. Unworthily, I and these two brothers do some jewelry business. Just now, how did Brother Wang see through that I'm not from the capital?"

"Haha, it's not that I, Wang Hongxing, like to brag, but of the merchants in this capital, I've met eight out of ten and dined with them. As for the officials, aside from the very highest and the very lowest, I've had at least a passing acquaintance with nearly all of them."

Fang Zhenghua glanced toward the door and asked:

"This Wu fellow is nothing but a ninth-rank miscellaneous official—how is it that so many big figures have come to his banquet today, even Vice Minister Jin of the Ministry of War?"

"Ah, this is where you gentlemen are out of the loop." Wang Hongxing paid no mind to the sarcasm in Fang Zhenghua's tone. He pointed toward Wu Wei at the far end, who was flanked by women on both sides, and said with a cold laugh:

"You really think everyone came to see Wu Wei? They're all here to show face to Zhu Zhen, the nephew of Duke Chengguo!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"This Wu fellow is nothing but a yapping dog—no one truly takes him to heart. But Zhu Zhen is different. He's a relative of the imperial house, and that title alone can intimidate when spoken aloud. Even those reckless agents of the Eastern Depot and Embroidered Uniform Guard have to think twice when they hear those four words."

"See over there? Most of these managers and bosses present are from the nearby streets. They're here hoping to bask in the glory of an imperial relative, so they no longer have to pay those fabricated miscellaneous taxes."

Hearing this, Chen Qiyu asked: "Fabricated miscellaneous taxes—would he dare invent pretexts for levies?"

"Oh, right, I forgot—you gentlemen are from Tongzhou and don't yet know the ways of the capital." Wang Hongxing smiled, poured himself a full cup, and said slowly:

"Wu Wei is a commissioner of the Tax Bureau. Don't let his ninth-rank post fool you—the pickings there are enormous. If you can think of it, he can squeeze it out. Take the street vendors—they have to pay an occupancy tax for setting up stalls. Haul goods through the streets—that's a cartage tax. Even if you buy a small house just to store your goods without selling them, you still have to pay a warehousing tax!"

"One might say this capital is truly a place where nothing is too strange to exist."

Chen Qiyu asked again: "If I recall correctly, new taxes require an official proclamation from the government, do they not?"

"Hey! Listen to how you put it—money makes the mare go!" Wang Hongxing waved his hand, his expression suggesting he found the question utterly childish. "With money, what can't you do?"

"This Zhu Zhen is, after all, the nephew of Duke Chengguo! Under the banner of being an imperial relative, he sends some silver to Prefect Song—would he dare refuse it? Once accepted, they're on the same boat, and naturally he can't interfere anymore. The Shuntian Prefecture office hands over a few blank documents—isn't the content just however they want to fill it in? Besides, with the Duke Chengguo connection, who in the court would dare to probe too deeply?"

"Speak of the devil—and here comes Prefect Song himself."

By now, the Chongzhen Emperor had a rough picture of what was happening on the nearby streets. So even here, at the very feet of the Son of Heaven, the waters ran deeper than in an ordinary prefecture.

The Tax Bureau in later ages would be the revenue service. Though its office was small, it was extremely important. A ninth-rank petty official in charge of collecting taxes had actually managed to pass himself off as an imperial relative—and with these fabricated pretexts, he was fleecing the common people down to the bone!

Looking at it from another angle, pulling this sort of thing in the capital meant he had absolutely no regard for this emperor.

Hadn't he just recently declared all taxes and the Three Levies remitted across the realm, with solemn vows? Setting aside whether things had improved elsewhere, the capital had only tightened its grip and collected even more ruthlessly—wasn't this a slap in his own face?

As for whatever backing Wu Wei had, it didn't matter. I am the Emperor of the Great Ming—whose waist is thicker than mine? Whether it's Zhu Zhen, or Vice Minister of War Jin Zhijun and the rest, I'll deal with them one by one. This Tax Bureau needs a thorough overhaul.

At that thought, the Chongzhen Emperor rose and walked to one side, beckoning Fang Zhenghua over. He instructed:

"You've posted plenty of men around, haven't you? No need to keep them hidden any longer. Have the Inner Depot men come in and raise a ruckus. I want to see who dares to stand up for the Tax Bureau and oppose the Depot and Guard!"

After the Chongzhen Emperor finished speaking, Fang Zhenghua vanished in a flash. When he returned, he made a reassuring gesture, the meaning clear—just sit back and watch the show.

In less than the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, a squad of agents indeed came rushing in from outside. Judging by their attire, they were men of the Inner Depot.

The one at the lead, a lanky fellow with a long donkey face, was the first to leap in and display his waist token. His blade half-drawn from its sheath, he bellowed:

"Seal this place for me!"