Chapter 46: The Yamen

Before the county yamen gate, people came and went in a steady stream.

The courier from the East Gate express relay station had just tumbled from his saddle and gone inside when the archers from the North Gate patrol office, following the yamen runners, began clearing the street; close behind, the yamen lictors led a crowd of Buddhist and Daoist clergy chanting dharma titles as they headed toward the north gate.

Liu Chengzong handed his weapons to Cao Yao; his cousin Chengyun went forward on his own to deal with the yamen runners guarding the gate, greeting them with practiced ease, bowing with clasped hands, presenting the visiting card, and slipping pre-cut silver bits from his sleeve — after chatting a few moments with a smile, the gatekeeper finally went in to announce them.

"Brother, the ones who just left were the Rites Section clerk and the yin-yang instructor, taking the Buddhist and Daoist associations to pray for rain."

Chengyun was not very old, but he spoke with the air of a grown man, sneering under his breath: "Tch! If praying for rain actually worked, would we still be in a two-year drought?"

Having said that, he added: "I asked around. The Revenue Section clerk Wang went to the South Gate porridge station for famine relief. The one left in the yamen is Clerk Zhang, named Zhang Pan, a man from the East Gate. He was originally a failed examination candidate who attached himself to the magistrate as a private advisor. Once the visiting card is delivered, just go find him."

Among that long string of titles, only the yin-yang instructor was an official — but an unsalaried one at that. The rest, clerks and scribes, were all sub-official functionaries, or in plain terms, office workers.

The imperial court had Six Ministries, the prefectures had Six Sections, and the county yamen had Six Offices. The staff of these Six Offices were all petty functionaries, mostly men with no hope in the examinations, who entered yamen service by passing a test or paying grain, and made their living mainly from paper-and-brush copying fees and meal allowances.

But they held real power and were all locals, spending their entire lives handling yamen business, with posts that could pass from father to son. Born and raised there, versed in criminal law, thoroughly proficient in statutes and precedents, they were especially skilled at managing internal yamen affairs — some of these petty functionaries could even sideline a magistrate who knew nothing of administrative practice.

Of course, being a functionary had its downside: a functionary could never become an official, his family could not sit the civil examinations, and he would forever remain a mere functionary.

Before long, a yamen lictor came out holding the visiting card. Perhaps because he had received a full eight mace of silver bits, he bowed to Liu Chengzong with clasped hands and said with a smile: "Second Master, please follow this humble one inside. Clerk Zhang requests your presence."

Liu Chengzong turned to Cao Yao and the others and said: "Go find a place outside to wait for me. I'll come out once the business is done."

With that, he was led by the black-robed, square-capped lictor through the main gate.

Liu Chengzong was thoroughly familiar with the yamen's layout. During those years accompanying the old master at the county yamen, going to the Warden's Office on the west side of the compound had been like going home.

The ceremonial layout of all yamen under heaven was the same — he needed no guide at all. Passing through the corridor before the Ceremonial Gate, the wing rooms on the east and west sides were called the Tax Rooms, where grain chiefs handled tax collection in summer and autumn. Normally unused, they usually served as the guardhouse for the stout squad.

The Ceremonial Gate was not opened on ordinary days. To its left and right were two smaller gates: the left was the Ghost Gate, also called the Death Gate; the right was the Mortal Gate, also called the Joy Gate.

The Ghost Gate was also kept shut on ordinary days. That gate was where condemned prisoners were led through. Entering and turning left, the west wall had another small gate leading directly to the west yamen. When autumn came and heaven and earth turned stern and killing, the executioners would lead the condemned through the Ghost Gate from there to be beheaded.

The Mortal Gate was where yamen officials and commoners normally entered the yamen.

Before reaching the main yamen hall, the corridor was flanked on both east and west by three-bay wing rooms. On the west side, from south to north, were the Military, Justice, and Works Offices; on the east side, from south to north, were the Rites, Revenue, and Personnel Offices.

The Personnel Office was in charge of human resources, managing yamen documents and overall internal affairs.

The Military Office was in charge of recruiting and drilling troops, managing local armed forces, relay stations, and the three squads of yamen runners.

The Revenue Office was responsible for collecting land taxes and commercial levies, managing household registers, granaries, fiscal revenues and expenditures, and assigning corvée labor.

The Rites Office was in charge of sacrifices, examinations, school education, and moral instruction of the populace.

The Justice Office was in charge of litigation and case judgment, conducting judicial trials, and overseeing prisoner management.

The Works Office was in charge of practical industry, responsible for military farming, water conservancy, engineering and construction, and tool and weapon fabrication.

For a county of a hundred li, there was no matter these six offices could not resolve.

When Liu Chengzong was led into the Revenue Office, a yamen runner inside was still bent over speaking to the clerk within. Seeing him enter, the clerk in his ochre-colored round-collar robe nodded and gave a few instructions, patted the runner to dismiss him, then sat in his chair, raised a hand, and smiled: "Liu the Second from Black Dragon Mountain, a stout fellow of the border army. I have long been acquainted with Old Fourth Master. You need not stand on ceremony — sit."

The Revenue Office was not small, but the walls were packed with bookshelves, and the money-and-grain registers and account books made the room feel somewhat cramped.

Now only the two of them were in the room. Once Liu Chengzong sat down, Zhang Pan said: "Brother Wang's visiting card explained your matter very clearly. You want to buy the two thousand seven hundred mu of land at Old Temple Village. The title deeds have already been bought and sold — all that's needed is for the Revenue Office to affix its seal and file them. You are a very generous man."

Just as Liu Chengzong was puzzled, Zhang Pan smiled indifferently and said: "Ever since the bandits raided Old Temple Village at Changping Hamlet and Commander Zhang led his troops to drive them off, the landowners there who held the deeds all perished in the calamity. It's all wasteland now."

Commander Zhang led his troops to drive off the bandits? Liu Chengzong struggled with all his might to suppress his contempt and indignation.

"If you, Liu the Second, had come to me earlier, we could have posted a notice outside the yamen, found thirty or forty households, each writing down that so-and-so has opened up wasteland from such-and-such a spot to such-and-such a spot in Coiling Dragon Valley. As long as no one showed up with a title deed within three months... and no one would show up — where would they look, since everyone's dead? The Revenue Office would then make new title deeds for you."

There was such a trick?

This was a novel bit of knowledge for Liu Chengzong, but he truly had no use for it and no wish to use it. The dead commoners of Old Temple Village — was it not enough that they were killed by bandits, that the soldiers took their heads to claim rewards, and then, before their bones were even cold, others would seize their land for nothing?

He could not bring himself to do such a thing. He cupped his hands and smiled: "Many thanks for your kind intentions, Clerk Zhang, but I truly cannot wait three months. Xingping Hamlet is counting on this riverside land to eat."

Zhang Pan's smile was very genial. He waved a hand and said: "No matter. Since it is a purchase and sale, this humble clerk can still affix the seal."

"However..." His tone shifted, and he clasped his fists toward the north, saying: "Though the Fushi County yamen is small, some matters must be handled by the book. Did Second Brother notice the refugees gathered outside the city when you entered? Hundreds upon hundreds. The city's rice jars are scraped clean. Every day people starve to death and are stuffed into the ditches."

"Our Fushi city is the seat of the county yamen, and the prefectural yamen is also here. The Prefect is deeply troubled by this, and therefore there is an order from which no one is exempt."

Zhang Pan raised a hand and tapped, rummaged through the official documents on his desk, and pushed one out: "The prefectural yamen has ordered that all wealthy households and great families who have surplus funds to buy fields and property in famine years must help the authorities share the burden of resettling refugees. The rule is one household per hundred mu."

"Therefore, for this title deed to be sealed, twenty-seven refugee households must be registered as tenant farmers. This humble one can offer every convenience — the number of mouths among the refugees can be small, but the number of households is fixed and cannot be altered. It must be twenty-seven households."

This regulation was extremely difficult for Liu Chengzong, making him furrow his brow.

In a small frontier city, a single word from the chief governing official was, rounding up, equivalent to an imperial edict.

The Prefect's word was law — two lips parted and it became golden statute. Liu Chengzong could not help but smile bitterly: "Taking twenty-seven refugee households back is easy, but Clerk Zhang, what am I supposed to feed them with?"

"I don't know either. Aside from a few villages and hamlets along the river, the common people have all lost their livelihoods. When refugees swarm together for too long, they'll inevitably turn to banditry. The yamen could only come up with this solution."

Zhang Pan shook his head and spread both hands on the desk: "Xingping Hamlet is on the outskirts of the county, so it's still fine. Inside the city, they've already begun forced apportionment. Any household with three bays of residence must donate five dou of grain per month; a single-courtyard house must donate one dan."

"You might as well buy land and get refugees in the bargain — then you won't even need to look for hands to till the soil. Saving one life is better than seven years of eating vegetarian meals. This time, Liu the Second, you've eaten enough vegetarian meals to cover your next life too."