Chapter 294: Open or Not, the People Suffer Either Way

Wang Cong: "The first matter: our Mount Sanqing will hold a Mountain God Temple Fair on the twenty-fourth of the eleventh month. At that time the temple fair will distribute blessed rice and warming medicinal herbs. Will you have the various li chiefs notify the people below — any households in need may go to the fair on the twenty-fourth, twenty-fifth, and twenty-sixth to burn incense and receive the goods?"

Ming Ren: "The road in front of your Mountain God Temple is so narrow, and the village is so small — how could it hold so many people? If someone so much as trips or gets stepped on, that would be a serious matter."

Wang Cong: "When the time comes, the villagers will help maintain order. The road goes upward, and there's a large square in front of the Mountain God Temple. After coming out, one can follow the mountain's slope up to the Sanqing Abbey, or take the middle path around to another road and come down."

It does require climbing a stretch of mountain, but, "Mount Sanqing has beautiful scenery, with rocks shaped as if by divine craftsmanship — the faithful who go can take a look."

Ming Ren glanced at him and said, "For this Mountain God Temple you've really been willing to put out the money — this round will be no less than five hundred taels, right?"

Wang Cong: "Does the county magistrate want to contribute some?"

Ming Ren waved his hand. "I can't even feed myself — where would I get money to do these things?"

Ming Ren refused to donate money, but he did agree to let them hold the temple fair, and said, "I'll have the various li chiefs notify the people below, and I'll also inform the local landlords and gentlemen of the county. If they're so inclined, they'll naturally send people with charitable silver."

Pan Yun smiled and thanked him.

Ming Ren looked at her curiously. "Last year when you built the Mountain God Temple, weren't you unwilling to accept charitable silver? Why this year…"

How could building be the same as ordinary acts of charity?

Besides, the building was a promise she made when she took her master — naturally she could not rely on others for it.

Pan Yun said with a solemn face: "Last year I was too narrow-minded. This year, going out to temper myself and seeing all the bitterness of the human world, this poor Daoist has only just realized that one person's strength is still too weak."

"So since the various benefactors are minded to do good works, and I have the ability to do good works, why not gather the kind hearts of the benefactors together and do more, and better, good works?"

Ming Ren immediately turned his head and said to Wang Cong: "Your little martial-aunt's mouth is like yours. If your Third Xiao Shishu had even half the eloquence of you two, he wouldn't get beaten up every time he goes out."

Ming Ren asked: "You said you'd give my case file to your Third Xiao Shishu, but you didn't say to invite him over — has he been injured again?"

Wang Cong fell silent.

Pan Yun was silent for a moment too, then made an effort on behalf of her Third Senior Brother: "My Third Senior Brother's injury this time wasn't from treating patients — it was because of me."

Ming Ren smiled, looking thoroughly unconvinced, and asked: "What's the second matter?"

Wang Cong said: "My little martial-aunt, in doing good works, sponsored fourteen children, of whom nine have reached school age."

Ming Ren was surprised. "You're actually willing to support so many children through school?"

Pan Yun said: "Only a few years of schooling, of course. But among them, if there are those who love learning and are good at it, they may continue. If they can take the imperial examinations and enter officialdom, that would be their great good fortune."

Ming Ren was silent for a moment, then said: "Orphans… are they those dozen-odd children who often beg on the streets?"

Pan Yun nodded.

"That's a bit difficult — most private schools won't take them."

Wang Cong: "I've approached several teachers, and they did find it awkward, which is why we've come to beg an audience with you, my lord."

Ming Ren glanced at him and said: "You certainly know where to look. This official… does have a candidate. Mr. Zhu of the South Alley — as long as the tuition is paid in full, he'll definitely take them. Here's what we'll do: you send the children to him, and the county will cover their textbooks."

Pan Yun was overjoyed, and cupped her fists: "Many thanks for your kindness, my lord."

Ming Ren smiled and cupped his fists toward the north: "If thanks are due, they should go to His Majesty and the Grand Progenitor Emperor — this is imperial grace."

This was indeed imperial grace.

Old Zhu, though he was very wary of civil officials, also knew that reading was a good thing, so during his reign he was very keen on establishing schools.

County school for four years, prefectural school for six years, and the National University and Imperial Academy and the like for nine years — though those are more targeted, meant to train civil and military officials for the imperial court.

But it was also this attitude of his that made private schools spring up like bamboo shoots after rain, with the most private schools in Jiangnan.

From village schools and township schools to all manner of private tutors and academies, one could say they taught everything, suitable for all kinds of students to enroll, and what folk schools taught was also more practical.

Because of this, folk schools had always been a bit more prestigious than the official ones, and Pan Yun had previously been more inclined to seek out private schools.

Many private tutors had close cooperation with various shops and craftsmen — outstanding and talented students would be recommended out as apprentices.

And as county magistrate, Ming Ren knew the scholars in his jurisdiction best — who would take on students like these, who could give these children the greatest help, he knew best.

So Wang Cong came straight to him.

Ming Ren: "Alright, what's the next question?"

Wang Cong's face grew more serious: "This year the weather is abnormal — colder than in previous years. My father, watching the skies at night, says in at most five days the first snow will fall."

Ming Ren was startled and frowned. "The snow is coming this early this year?"

"Not only early, this snow is likely to be heavy too. But I see the refugees and beggars on the streets still have no shelter — hasn't the county prepared any warming housing for them this year?" Ming Ren's forehead throbbed. "Don't even mention it. The two gentlemen who in previous years were willing to lend me houses to gather in the refugees and beggars backed out at the last minute, and on top of that I was ill, so in the moment we just didn't get it prepared."

Pan Yun: "You take them for free — don't you pay?"

"Of course we pay," Ming Ren said. "Only this year they raised the rent, and we couldn't come to terms. This county sent people to inquire — they want to sell off those rundown houses, so they're deliberately making excuses to stonewall me."

What kind of decent house could it be if it's the kind that gets used to house beggars and still needs the county office to repair it?

Usually it just sits empty anyway. The county office is willing to pay to rent it for three months for beggars and refugees to live in — they're not afraid of them damaging the house, and they can do the magistrate a favor, so they rent it out generously.

Only this year someone wants to buy the property, and they've gotten the idea of selling, so they don't want to rent to the county office anymore.

Ming Ren said: "I'll have people go look again. If we really can't find any, we can only put up sheds in the open fields as an emergency measure."

Pan Yun: "If it's just sheds, I'm afraid they won't keep out the cold."

"I know that too. I'll have people prepare ginger soup, firewood, and blankets for them." Ming Ren sighed. "This year the county office's public accounts don't have much money. Sigh — even the cleverest housewife can't cook without rice."

Pan Yun said generously: "Our Sanqing Abbey is willing to donate fifty taels for this matter."

Ming Ren heard this and immediately cupped his fists: "Still, Daoist Master Pan Xiao is righteous, Mount Sanqing is righteous."

This book's latest updates are at ##!! Update!

Pan Yun waved her hand: "It's all for the people, all for the people."

Ming Ren could use this case to go to the local landlords and rich men in the county to solicit donations.

Even the Daoist abbey donated — would you feel right not donating?

Ming Ren couldn't help but smile. The big one and the little one exchanged a glance, both understanding each other's intentions, and chuckled together.

Ming Ren kept Pan Yun for tea and refreshments, and took Wang Cong to the back courtyard to revise his prescription.

He walked with his hands behind his back, smiling: "Your little martial-aunt is quite something — so worldly-wise. All the dirty little schemes we have behind the scenes, she's seen right through them."

Wang Cong: "You know your schemes are dirty too?"

Ming Ren smiled and shook his head, saying, "Although I am dirty, the work I do is clean. The two of them clash together, so it isn't really dirty after all. Cough, cough…"

Wang Cong saw that his coughing would not stop, and that his face and neck had flushed completely red, so he could not help frowning. "This illness of yours… really needs proper treatment, otherwise I'm afraid you won't live long."

"The physicians all advise me to think less and worry less, and to rest more. Why don't you remind me of that?"

"At a time like this, if you think less and worry less, people outside will die," Wang Cong paused, then said, "Besides, even if I told you to think less and worry less, would you actually be able to rest more?"

Ming Ren shook his head and sighed, "Hard~ so hard~"

Wang Cong left him a new prescription and departed. The moment he stepped out of the county government office, he asked Pan Yun, "Little Xiao Shishu, you don't see any sign of a short life in him, do you?"

Pan Yun was briefly taken aback. "No. Although he's ill, there's no death qi about him. What, you think he'll die of this illness?"

Wang Cong: "I'm worried it will affect his lifespan."

Pan Yun thought for a moment, then said, "Hard to say. A person's fortune isn't fixed, and their fate can change too. But for now, he doesn't seem to be in any danger to his life, and his future prospects actually look quite good."

Ming Ren's prospects were indeed good. Hearing that the imperial court had once again rated his governance as 'excellent' this year, his private secretary got the news at once and happily ran back to tell him, "If the news is true, my lord, you can expect a promotion next year."

Ming Ren's joy was mixed with worry. He cautioned, "It's only a rumor from the grapevine; it may not be true. We still need to be careful."

"Being careful is right, but this news didn't come from the grapevine. It came from the Prefect's side. I'd say there's a ninety percent chance it's true."

"If it's true, then we need to be even more careful. Nothing can go wrong this winter," Ming Ren said. "This year is colder than in previous years. I've received word that it will snow within five days. Have someone summon every village head from every li, and tell the villagers to prepare against the cold and the frost."

"The wheat in the fields that needs to be covered with straw, cover it. The firewood for getting through the winter at home, and the bedding and clothes for keeping warm, must all be prepared early. Every roof needs to be checked once over, to keep the snow from pressing them down and collapsing them…"

Ming Ren gave his instructions one by one, then added, "Bring in the people from the brokerages. We need to arrange cold-shelter for the homeless on the streets. Aim to have it done within three days. Also, draw fifty taels of silver from the public account, and together with these fifty taels, go buy enough grain to feed them for half a month, and rent some clothes and bedding…"

"My lord," the private secretary hurriedly stopped him, saying, "If people know the clothes and bedding are being rented out to beggars, I'm afraid no one will be willing to rent them."

Ming Ren heard this, rubbed his brow, and said, "Then buy secondhand ones. Have the government office runners go out on the street right now, gather all those people together, and take them up the mountain to collect firewood and prepare things for keeping warm."

The private secretary frowned and agreed. "I don't know what's going on either, but the beggars on the street this year seem to have increased."

Ming Ren's expression was complicated as he said, "This year His Majesty reopened the silver mines of Zhejiang and Fujian. Starting next year, Fujian will have to pay an annual silver levy of over twenty-one thousand one hundred and twenty taels. The refugees this year are still considered few. Next year, the year after, the number of people drifting in from elsewhere to beg will only grow."

The private secretary was silent for a moment, then said, "If the imperial court doesn't reopen the silver mines, people will keep secretly digging them. Isn't that just the same — plundering the wealth of the state?"

"Yes," Ming Ren sighed. "Opening the mines is bitter for the common folk; not opening the mines is also bitter for the common folk. Whether they open them or not, the profit never reaches ordinary people."

Good night

(End of chapter)