Chapter 498

Wang Cong tossed the man down, and the youth crashed to the ground beside his companion with a thud.

The Blood-Packet Armor lifted its head, saw the youth, and tears poured endlessly from its eye-slits—no pupils visible, only weeping. With two sobbing sounds, water then gushed out in a rush.

The youth widened his eyes, stunned that his companion had been beaten so badly.

For a moment, he had no strength left to struggle.

An Chen saw they'd brought back another person, completely unfamiliar, so he circled him once, then turned and asked: "Confirmed it's him?"

Pan Yun: "Take back that 'do you' question."

She crouched down, gripped the youth's face, turned it straight, and pointed to his cheeks and forehead: "It's clearly written here—IT—IS—ME!"

An Chen stared silently at his smooth face.

The youth remained silent.

Pan Yun casually pulled out the cloth from his mouth, wrinkled her nose, yanked open his collar, and shoved the cloth inside: "Here's your handkerchief back."

Silence was the youth's normal state.

Pan Yun dragged over a chair, sat opposite him, and looked down at the man on the ground: "Tell me—what's your name, where's your ancestral home, where do you live now…"

Pan Yun leaned forward, studying him with a half-smile: "Who sent you to find me?"

The youth turned his head away, ignoring her.

Pan Yun clicked her tongue, crossed her leg, and swung her toe in front of his face: "You want to cooperate but won't even give your name? I've never met an ally so lacking in sincerity."

The youth said coldly: "You don't need to know who my master is—only that my master wishes to join you in toppling Wang Zhen and clearing Lord Pan's name."

"Pan Young Lady?" Pan Yun's face lit up with a smile: "I… oh no, this young lady has lived this long and never once heard someone call me that. Fine. Since your mouth is sweeter than your guard's blunt threats, I'll be frank—I DO NOT—WANT—TO!"

The youth frowned: "Why? Toppling Wang Zhen means you get your revenge, Pan Hong's injustice is cleared—why refuse?"

Pan Yun: "I just don't want to. What will your master do about it?"

The youth's heart tightened, and he said grimly: "This matter may not be up to you. You may be capricious, but your father and brother are still in Jingcheng."

"If this case isn't overturned, Pan Hong and Xue Xuan will surely be charged with forming a corrupt clique. Xue Xuan has high reputation and support from scholars in Hexi and Hedong—Wang Zhen won't dare kill him. But your father and brother? Not so certain."

Pan Yun bent low, her eyes locked on his, then suddenly smiled: "I suspect it's not just Wang Zhen who wants to kill your father and brother—you people probably want to kill them more, then pin the blame on Wang Zhen, don't you?"

The youth's face changed. Pan Yun slapped his head—slap slap slap—until he was dazed: "You really think I'm so young I can't tell good words from bad? It's your brains that are broken—you can't understand human speech!"

The youth's head rang. He forgot to hide his emotions, forgot his earlier polite "advice," and shouted: "To rid the nation of this poison, what's the loss of two or three lives?"

He cried out: "If Lord Pan knew sacrificing himself could topple Wang Zhen and cleanse the imperial court, he'd gladly do it—"

He clutched his face and collapsed, spitting out a tooth with a plop.

Pan Yun jumped up, clutching her right hand, shaking it frantically: "It hurts! It hurts so much!"

The youth lifted his head—his left cheek was visibly swelling, five clear palm prints already forming.

An Chen: …That one slap was heavier than the five of them beating the Blood-Packet Armor for half an hour. Pan Yun is truly furious.

The youth's voice was muffled, but his tone was resolute: "Even if you kill me, I'll say it—any sacrifice is worth it to remove the corrupt Wang Zhen."

Pan Yun stopped complaining. She crouched before him and looked up: "Even your own life?"

The youth's face was firm: "Even my own life."

Pan Yun snorted softly: "Fool."

The youth glared. "How can a sparrow understand the ambition of a swan…" Pan Yun cut him off: "Do you know how much tax and corvée labor the Jiangnan region pays annually?"

The youth paused, then his face flushed with passion: "Of course I know—the court is unjust, the heaviest taxes fall on Jiangnan, all because of corrupt officials…"

"You're right—corrupt officials do exist," Pan Yun's gaze turned icy. "But they're not Wang Zhen. Jiangnan's eight prefectures are the land of rice and fish—two harvests a year. Its grain output alone accounts for half of Great Ming's total."

"The Taizu Emperor assigned Jiangnan heavy taxes because its geography and ecology are superior," Pan Yun said, face grave. "If Taizu's original plan were followed, Jiangnan's total tax burden seems heavy—but per household, Jiangnan's people still live far better than those in the north or Lingnan."

"But officials and gentry refuse to pay taxes or perform labor, so they shift their burdens onto common folk. Scholars and wealthy merchants also evade taxes, hide land and population, collude with officials, and dump even more taxes and labor onto ordinary people. That's why Jiangnan's people grow poorer year by year. This has been happening since Taizu's time—Wang Zhen's mother wasn't even conceived yet. Is he the corrupt one?"

The youth's face flushed. He argued: "The court exempts officials and those with scholarly titles from labor and miscellaneous taxes so they can serve the nation wholeheartedly…"

"Is that so?" Pan Yun sat back in her chair, hand resting on the armrest, smirking: "If you pass the imperial exam, become an official, and gain exemption—would you let your father or brothers serve labor and pay those taxes instead?"

The youth said: "Why not? They're already serving themselves…"

"Your mother kneels before you, begging—your younger brother's health is broken, she's heartbroken."

The youth froze. "I can pay to redeem their labor."

Please... Your Excellency... Collect_(!)

Pan Yun sneered: "Miscellaneous labor is calculated by land acreage. You've registered all your family's land under your name to evade taxes—do you remember that?"

The youth's face burned red. He'd never thought it wrong before—but now his cheeks felt like fire. He mumbled: "I studied for ten years in hardship—my family sacrificed so much, so naturally…"

"Your uncles, cousins, maternal uncles, aunts—all of them register their land under your name to evade taxes. What about your clan head? Relatives within five degrees of kinship—do you register theirs? Or do you pick and choose whose land to register and whose to ignore?"

The youth's lips trembled. He couldn't speak.

Pan Yun leaned close to his ear: "The taxes you evade don't vanish. Each prefecture's tax quota is fixed. Since you don't pay, it's redistributed to households without Metropolitan Graduate, Provincial Graduate, or licentiates. Year after year, their taxes grow heavier and heavier…"

The youth screamed: "Stop talking—we studied for years to honor our ancestors and serve the nation! What's wrong with evading a few miscellaneous taxes? They're trivial—"

Pan Yun sneered: "You think it's only miscellaneous taxes?"

"Human greed is endless. How many people in this world can control their desires?" Pan Yun pressed closer. "First it's miscellaneous taxes and labor, then main taxes, then public fields, forests, marshes—any profit, they seize. Otherwise, why were the silver mines of Jiangxi and Fujian shut down? When reopened, they yielded only eight taels of silver per year—who's ever seen a silver mine produce only eight taels annually?"

"Is this Wang Zhen's doing?" Pan Yun's gaze locked on his face, her voice soft: "Or your master's?"

The youth instinctively denied: "No…"

Pan Yun snorted, stood up, looked down at him: "I don't believe you. And I trust your master even less."

"A righteous, compassionate official won't sacrifice others to set a trap—unless," Pan Yun's lips curled: "he's another corrupt official."

"Helping one corrupt man kill another? I have no patience for such games."

The youth fell silent, then said: "I understand. Let me go. I'll tell my master your words."

Pan Yun blinked, dug in her ear, feigning shock: "What did you say?"

Seeing her expression, the youth's heart sank further.

Pan Yun was stunned, then praised, "You're so naive, you're making me feel a bit embarrassed—after all, this makes me look so bad."

Seeing Miao Zhen: "Little Martial Uncle, he still hasn't said who his master is."

"That doesn't matter," Pan Yun waved her hand. "If he can survive and be brought back to Jingcheng, we'll naturally know whose man he is."

Pan Yun chuckled lightly and scraped his face, "Even if you don't tell me, I can still find out."

The young man's hair stood on end, and he couldn't help but shiver. (End of chapter)