Chapter 720

Yu Qian had somehow appeared in the courtyard; Pan Yun was straightening his bones, and when Wang Feiyin said they were set, she crossed her arms and watched as Wang Feiyin bandaged and medicated the clerk: "Your bones don't look like they broke from a fall—how did this happen?"

The clerk was already numb with pain, now feeling nothing at all, gazing blankly at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle; hearing Pan Yun's question, he tilted his head back—didn't see Pan Yun, but caught sight of Yu Qian standing behind her.

He exuded a faint aura of near-death: "He yanked me."

Pan Yun turned her head.

Yu Qian hurried forward and bowed in apology: "It was my fault—I couldn't stop my strength in the urgency…"

He simply hadn't expected the clerk to be so fragile.

The clerk sat upright, frowning at him: "What did you say?"

Yu Qian looked bewildered: "I…"

His pupils contracted, his spine curved slightly, and he offered a slightly pleading smile: "I didn't say anything…"

Pan Yun clicked her tongue twice, smiling as she walked away; as she passed him, a whispered phrase drifted into his ear: "Your identity's about to be exposed~~"

Yu Qian: …

Bearing the clerk's suspicion, he bowed while retreating, moving like a commoner terrified of taking responsibility.

After sizing him up, the clerk dismissed a fraction of his suspicion—but still remained doubtful; watching him exit the courtyard, he turned to Wang Feiyin: "Master Wang, didn't he just bow to me with a scholar's salute?"

Wang Feiyin secured the wooden splints, confirmed the position wouldn't shift no matter how he moved, then cut a strip of cloth to tie around his neck: "What's wrong with that? Under natural disaster, all beings are equal—do scholars escape suffering from calamity?"

The clerk thought about it—true enough.

He wiped sweat from his brow and sighed: "These past two days, our county magistrate scared me half to death—I keep suspecting the imperial envoy is in disguise."

Wang Feiyin: "So what if he's in disguise? You haven't done anything wrong—you're just doing your duty. What's there to fear?"

"But Yushan County has been governed like this…"

Wang Feiyin: "You're not the county magistrate—why are you afraid?"

The clerk froze. Right—he wasn't the county magistrate. Why was he afraid?

But… what if the magistrate shifts blame downward, and the lower officials shift it further down?

The clerk looked torn; Wang Feiyin had already written the prescription and handed it to him: "You're not destitute—take this prescription to the pharmacy yourself. I won't give you medicine."

The clerk snapped back to attention, gripping Wang Feiyin's hand with his good one, eyes pleading: "Master Wang, oral medicine is fine, but you must give me a jar of your Bone-Growing Ointment—what pharmacy ointment compares to yours?"

"Alright, alright—go find Pan Yun. Have her dig you out some. I don't have a full jar, but I can spare a month's worth. You're young—you'll heal in a month. After that, switch back to pharmacy ointment."

The clerk agreed and hurried off to find Pan Yun.

Pan Yun's diagnostic skills were mediocre, so she, along with other Daoist priests, monks, and nuns, handled medicine preparation.

The clerk came over with the prescription: "Master Wang told you to give me three months' worth of ointment."

Pan Yun glanced at the prescription: "No empty jars for ointment. Go get a clean jar and bring it back."

The clerk agreed and returned for the jar; as he stepped out, he saw the man who had injured him sitting among villagers, who were gesticulating and talking animatedly to him.

The clerk frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head, banishing his suspicions—he decided to pretend he knew nothing, to ask nothing, probe nothing, suspect nothing.

Lu Yuan watched the clerk walk away and leaned close: "My lord, he's suspicious—should we…?"

"Do what?" Yu Qian whispered. "He's just a minor clerk. He's doing his duty. We're here in disguise to uncover the truth—not to harm people."

Lu Yuan: "…My lord, where did you get that idea? I meant—should we go warn him? Tell him to rest a day at home? We're revealing ourselves tomorrow anyway."

Yu Qian's mind flashed back to the scene: the five of them frantically dragging the clerk out of the magistrate's backyard, hiding Wu the secretary. He shook his head: "No need. Even if he suspects, he may not report it. Besides, he's not the only one who suspects me."

Yu Qian sat among the crowd, merely dropping a single opening remark—and immediately others took up the thread, and he learned many, many things.

Those in disguise always seek out common folk to learn about the people's livelihood—not because the common folk know much.

What could common folk possibly know?

Nearly half the people waiting here for relief didn't even know they'd gotten a new county magistrate this year.

They didn't know the magistrate's surname, his name, let alone who the county captain or registrar was.

Only the remaining half—especially the elderly—knew a bit more.

Even so, they didn't know the imperial court had levied a silver tax on them this year.

They only knew this year was especially hard—since the New Year, it felt like there was endless work.

The government office demanded each household send one able-bodied man; even previously exempt widows and orphans had to contribute, or pay money or grain instead.

They only knew that in early June, the village head told every household to prepare two tael in extra tax—but no one knew what tax it was, only that life would get harder.

Only those who studied outside or traveled could tell Yu Qian: "We heard the extra two tael is a silver tax—the court demands it from silver mines, but the mines can't pay, so the Provincial Revenue Bureau made each prefecture raise funds, each prefecture passed it to counties, and the magistrate assigned it to every household."

Yu Qian laughed bitterly: "How much silver is the imperial court demanding from Jiangxi's silver mines this year?"

Lu Yuan, a Embroidered Uniform Guard officer with a sharp mind, gave the number immediately: "Two thousand eight hundred and sixty-five taels."

Precise down to the last tael.

Yu Qian: "Even if the mines can't pay that much, and the entire sum is distributed, Jiangxi has thirteen prefectures under the Provincial Revenue Bureau, seventy-eight counties—how did Yushan County end up assigning two tael per household?"

The Two Capitals and Thirteen Provinces—Jiangxi had the largest population. Though the Ministry of Revenue hasn't surveyed Jiangxi's population recently, using Hongwu-era data, household numbers exceed one million.

Even if we take only one million households, two tael per household, if every household pays, the extra tax alone amounts to two hundred thousand taels—yet the imperial demand is only two thousand eight hundred and sixty-five taels…

Yu Qian clenched his eyes shut tightly, then stood: "Let's go meet this famous righteous Daoist of the Jiangnan region."

Wang Feiyin was still treating patients; Yu Qian and Lu Yuan squeezed into the courtyard. He merely lifted his eyelids, glanced once, then lowered them and continued his diagnosis.

Yu Qian paused slightly—he wanted to speak with Master Wang, but clearly, the man had no time.

Yu Qian turned to Pan Yun nearby and decided to find her first.

From Xue Shao's words, he knew she was young, but certainly no puppet.

Pan Yun had just finished preparing medicine for someone; she looked up and saw Yu Qian—immediately beaming with a smile.

Lu Yuan leaned close to Yu Qian, incredulous: "My lord, you've disguised yourself well. We passed through so many counties, played so many roles—no one recognized you. Why here in Yushan County does it seem everyone knows who you are?"

Yu Qian: "Not everyone. Only two. No—three."

Lu Yuan blinked: "Besides the clerk and Pan Yun—who else?"

Yu Qian's eyes swept toward Wang Feiyin, who was diagnosing patients.

Lu Yuan fell silent.

Yu Qian walked toward Pan Yun.

Pan Yun, without hesitation, turned to a young monk and said, "Jingchen, nephew, I leave this to you."

Jingchen, older than her but of lower generation, nodded silently in agreement.

Pan Yun smiled warmly at Yu Qian and said, "Please, honored guest, come inside."

Pan Yun led Yu Qian to the side courtyard, a yard specifically used for storing grain, medicine, and other supplies.

Seeing Miao Zhen oversaw operations here; occasionally someone came to collect grain or medicine, but few came, making it easy to find a quiet place to talk.

Seeing them, Seeing Miao Zhen did not ask who they were, turned, and went inside to fetch three small stools.

Pan Yun handed two to Yu Qian and said to Seeing Miao Zhen, "Go brew a pot of tea. Lord Yu has spoken much—he must be thirsty."

Seeing Miao Zhen agreed and turned to leave.

Pan Yun turned to Yu Qian and asked, "Lord Yu, have you eaten?"

Yu Qian pulled out a bowl from his robe and said, "I just received a bowl of porridge outside—I'm not very hungry now."

But how could a grown man be full on one bowl of porridge? Pan Yun had Seeing Miao Zhen bring out a plate of rice cakes.

"Make do with this—the house was abandoned; most furniture is gone. My eldest brother was trapped here, so it became a charity clinic, and every space was used—only this area remains somewhat empty." Pan Yun casually set the plate on the ground.

Yu Qian didn't mind; he pinched a piece of rice cake and asked with a smile, "How did Daoist Pan recognize me?"

Pan Yun: "I'd say it was qi-reading. Do you believe me?"

Yu Qian: "In the past, I certainly wouldn't have. But now—I believe."

Pan Yun's eyes brightened. "Oh?" She leaned forward. "I know—Confucians always hold that Confucius avoided speaking of strange powers and spirits, and keep their distance from ghostly divination and such occult arts."

Yu Qian nodded: "Even now that I believe in Daoist Pan, I still hold that attitude."

Pan Yun admired him: "Few can cling to their old convictions after meeting someone new. For your steadfastness, Lord Yu, ask whatever you wish—I will answer all I can."

Yu Qian paused, then asked, "I heard the rebel second-in-command Wang Xiaojing comes from Fen Shui Village beneath Mount Sanqing. This morning, Cai Cheng released Wang Xiaojing's family, but they vanished—have they come under your care?"

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow. "Lord Yu just entered the city today—and you've already uncovered this?"

Yu Qian: "Cai Cheng's detention of rebel families isn't secret—he publicly announced it to intimidate rebels. I only needed to ask around in the crowd. Then I sent someone to investigate the Earth God Temple—and learned everything."

Pan Yun: "I only learned this morning that Wang Xiaojing's family had been released from prison."

Yu Qian pressed: "Are they under your care?"

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow at him, smiling but saying nothing.

Yu Qian exhaled in relief: "Good—they're under your care. Please, Daoist Pan, protect them."

Pan Yun poured him a bowl of tea: "What do you mean, Lord Yu?"

"Though I don't know how you made Cai Cheng release them, you went to such trouble precisely to protect Wang Xiaojing and his group, don't you?"

Pan Yun's smile faded. She said solemnly, "Lord Yu, can you protect them? I heard the imperial court has sent a large army south to suppress the rebellion—Fujian is fighting fiercely."

"Fujian is Fujian, Jiangxi is Jiangxi," Yu Qian said. "Fujian's rebels have reached sixty thousand and keep growing. But here in Jiangxi, only two small bands are causing trouble—Song Dalin's group numbers no more than two thousand."

"Lord, I don't know the situation of Jiangxi's other rebel band, but Song Dalin and Wang Xiaojing truly were driven to desperation," Pan Yun said gravely. "The court must give the people room to survive. Otherwise, to live, they'll eat their own flesh and blood—what's rebellion compared to that?"

Lu Yuan hissed softly: "Bold! Even if kin are severed, one must not be disloyal to the sovereign!"

Yu Qian raised a hand to stop Lu Yuan, then nodded to Pan Yun: "I will plead for Song Dalin and Wang Xiaojing—offer them amnesty. But you must guarantee they will not rebel again."

Pan Yun: "If the court gives them a way to live, they will not rebel again."

Yu Qian: "What do you consider a way to live?"

Pan Yun: "Cancel this year's additional two cash tax per household, and reduce corvée labor…"

Pan Yun paused, then added: "Lord Yu, the government office assigns too many corvée duties—carrying palanquins, cleaning, night watch, express courier posts—the demands are too harsh, the people suffer unbearably."

Yu Qian pursed his lips and whispered, "Daoist Pan, you know these are regulations established by Emperor Taizu. Removing these corvée duties is nearly impossible. Suggest something more practical."

Pan Yun: "Also, miners' wages and working hours…"

Pan Yun refined and presented the demands Song Dalin had raised that night; Yu Qian's brow remained furrowed as he listened intently.

Midway through, he could no longer sit still—he rose and began pacing.

When he finished listening, he fixed Pan Yun with a piercing gaze and asked, "Were these demands raised by Song Dalin—or did someone else draft them for him?"

Pan Yun's expression didn't change. "All these demands are Song Dalin's."

Yu Qian couldn't help slamming his fist into his palm and sighed: "Truly a pillar-of-the-state talent. Has Song Dalin ever studied?"

Pan Yun: "No."

Yu Qian paced twice more, then turned back: "I will do everything I can to protect them. But you must tell Song Dalin—I cannot fulfill all his demands."

Pan Yun: "How many can you fulfill?"

"Only three."

Pan Yun: … She had proposed so many conditions—he agreed to all of them—and yet he could only deliver three?

She forced down her temper and asked, "Which three?"

"One: pardon their crimes. Two: cancel the two-cash surtax. Three: increase miners' wages and reduce their working hours."

Pan Yun exhaled in relief—these were all Song Dalin's demands. As for the rest—well, she had asked too much.

Pan Yun: "Fine. I'll speak with him."

Yu Qian asked: "What are your chances?"

"Fifty percent," Pan Yun said solemnly. "But I will give everything—even my life—to make it happen."

Yu Qian exhaled too, forced a smile, and bowed to her: "Then I am deeply in your debt, Daoist Pan."

Pan Yun: "No need for thanks."

"I have one more request."

Pan Yun's hand, resting on his, went stiff: "What demand?"

(End of Chapter)