Chapter 661: Able to Defend, Able to Hold

Officials selected through the imperial examinations handled the abstract and administrative, while the clerks and runners beneath them were responsible for practical affairs. Civil officials were chosen through the examinations, their selection based on the Four Books, Five Classics, and the eight-legged essay. The clerks, however, were hereditary, sons inheriting their fathers' professions, passed down from generation to generation. A single local administrative matter was often monopolized by one family for a century or even longer.

What was passed down included corrupt customary practices and blood-sucking methods of exploitation, but also the experience of handling various affairs. Not to mention, dealing with the gentry and common households for generations meant that no one understood the local popular sentiment and detailed circumstances better than these clerks and runners.

To consolidate the populace and implement the baojia mutual responsibility system by relying on the Zhao Camp and its peripheral personnel would be like a layman fumbling at the door—bound to be full of bumps and stumbles. But handing it over to these clerks and runners, one could say they'd be treading familiar paths. In fact, what these clerks and runners did on a daily basis was exactly this, only less systematic, fragmented and piecemeal.

"... Going down to the villages to collect grain and money, apportioning corvée labor—how many commoner households and people are in a given place, how many local strongmen and great houses, how many degree-holding gentry—they must keep all of it firmly in mind. From the commoner households, they must collect in full and even over-collect. With the local strongmen and great houses, they must negotiate and find a figure both sides can accept. And as for the degree-holding gentry, where they shouldn't go poking, they don't go poking. Without knowing these inside details, how could they fulfill the yamen's demands, how could they make their own families rich..." Zhao Jin said with a smile.

Chen Sheng nodded at the side. This was precisely the shady business inside the government yamen. The two of them had been steeped in it since childhood, and after building up the Zhao Camp's operations, they had deliberately sought to understand it, with the elders in their families also making a point of teaching them. Naturally, they were clear on the inner workings.

Over on the other side, Wang Zhaojing was still deep in thought, but Ji Xiang couldn't help speaking up: "Big Brother, I'm not saying the elders of Big Brother and Second Brother are bad, but won't those people in the yamen collude with the local powers? I've heard plenty about that, all kinds of collusion bringing disaster to the common people."

Hearing this, Chen Sheng couldn't help laughing. Zhao Jin was laughing too, and he reached out to pat Chen Sheng on the shoulder, saying, "Dasheng, you explain."

Ji Xiang, laughed at without knowing why, just stood there scratching his head. Chen Sheng spoke: "I don't know about other places, but in our Xuzhou, the officialdom and the local powers have never had any collusion. It's more a matter of who's afraid of whom..."

The people of Xuzhou were fierce and tough by custom, prizing martial prowess above all. Everything was settled by blade and cudgel—whoever had the bigger fist, his word carried weight.

When these clerks and runners went out of the city to collect taxes and levies, the gentry shielded by official rank didn't care, and those local strongmen and great houses without rank stiffly resisted and refused to pay, mustering dozens or even over a hundred men, armed with all manner of weapons. If you wanted grain and money, you'd have to see if you had the ability to take it. Even ordinary commoner households would sometimes stubbornly resist paying, rallying their fellow villagers and clenching their teeth in defiance.

What was even more troublesome was that Xuzhou's land was barren, yet it had produced several behemoth-like great powers. The Cloud Mountain Temple was one, the Xu family was another, and He Village was yet another. These were places the official runners dared not touch at all and could only put their efforts elsewhere. What they couldn't collect from these places, they had to over-collect from others. But how could over-collecting be so easy? The common people were unwilling to even pay their proper taxes in full, let alone pay extra. To collect more, they could only resort to armed force.

The common people used armed force to resist taxes; the official runners, unable to play the fox borrowing the tiger's might, wouldn't just sit and wait for death either. They likewise responded with force.

The constables and runners of Xuzhou's one prefecture and four counties—whether on the imperial payroll or not—were not there to beat the planks in the courtroom or run errands and handle miscellaneous chores for the officials. They were the armed force mustered to go down into the villages and collect money and grain.

Both Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng remembered this clearly. When they were young, every autumn harvest season, their fathers would arm themselves fully, and the colleagues under them would also be fully equipped with blades and spears. Off they all went, down to the villages to collect the grain.

You, the local strongman, have over a hundred men in your hands? Well, my yamen also has over a hundred men—and they're all stout fellows who don't do farm work and occasionally or regularly practice martial arts, with quite a few desperate, reckless thugs among them. If they fought it out to a conclusion, there would certainly be deaths and injuries. Once there were deaths and injuries, that was a major crime. Even if no one pursued it, the cost of healing the wounded and paying compensation for the dead was no small sum. No one wanted to actually start a fight.

Since no one wanted to fight, then everyone could sit down and talk. How much of this year's grain tax should be handed over? It certainly couldn't be paid in full according to the actual acreage of the fields. How much was paid depended on whether the men and horses in your hands were intimidating enough.

As for the common people, they shouldn't even think of resisting. No matter how unruly a farming household might be, could they be more unruly than these wolf-like, tiger-like armed runners? Obediently hand over the money and grain, and pay however much you're told to pay. If you so much as talk back, they'd directly pin some fabricated charge on you, clap you in chains and throw you in jail, and then wait for your family to come up with the money to ransom you!

After so many years of this, every time was filled with murderous tension, and there were even deaths and injuries. Under such circumstances, how could there be any goodwill? The two sides had long been irreconcilable, let alone any collusion.

"... Our Xuzhou is different from other places. Apart from a few patches of good land in Feng County and Pei County, the harvests everywhere else are very poor. As a result, even when the clerks and runners got their hands on silver, they'd go into trade or moneylending, and would absolutely never use their money to buy farmland. Consequently, the clerks and runners mostly come from within the city walls. The very few who come from outside are also shiftless, roguish characters..." Wang Zhaojing said, drawing inferences.

But at this point, Ruhui covered his mouth and coughed. Wang Zhaojing suddenly realized his blunder, and his expression immediately turned awkward. Never mind anyone else—wasn't Zhao Jin's father, Zhao Zhentang, precisely from outside the city?

From the very start of this discussion, Ruhui had only been listening intently, his expression quite serious. By all rights, among those seated here, Ruhui was the oldest and had long dealt with all sorts of people from all walks of life, so he should have been the most knowledgeable on this subject. Yet he never opened his mouth, only listened.

Before he could explain, Zhao Jin shook his head with a smile and said, "My family truly was down and out back then, so that remark isn't wrong. Let's continue with our discussion. Those outside are always thinking of not paying, and the clerks and runners in the yamen are always thinking of collecting more. Each side is cutting off the other's road to wealth—naturally, they're mortal enemies. Even if there's a case or two of collusion, it can't change the overall picture."

Everyone nodded. Zhao Jin continued, "Our Xuzhou has never had a flourishing literary culture; there are only a handful with official degrees. We don't need the official runners to investigate these—we can do it ourselves. For those villages under our control, we naturally know the inside details ourselves, so we don't need the official runners to worry about those either. As for the rest, since there's no collusion, then we'll use them to do the job."

The expressions on everyone's faces became less troubled. What had originally seemed an immensely difficult task, once Zhao Jin broke it down and explained it, detailing every aspect, now seemed doable to all of them.

Just at that moment, Ruhui cleared his throat. Everyone fell silent, and he spoke up with a very serious inquiry: "Master, to start undermining the government yamen right now—isn't this a bit too early?"

The angle Ruhui was concerned about was quite different from the others. Everyone else thought that consolidating the populace and implementing the baojia mutual responsibility system was about turning the common people under the imperial court and government into the common people of the Zhao Camp—that was the taboo act. But what Ruhui focused on was that using the clerks and runners was undermining the government yamen, which was equally a violation of taboo. Yet Zhao Jin and the others had long since ceased to regard the Xuzhou government as anything at all, so they hadn't even thought of it.

This question made Zhao Jin fall into thought for a moment, then he raised his head and said, "What does Mister Cao think?"

"Master, right now, Prefect Tong Huaizu is just waiting for his term to end so he can leave, and the various county magistrates are in much the same state. No one dares to offend our Zhao Camp. Yet they can still order around the clerks and runners in the yamen and can still be considered officials. But if we do this thing, it will be tantamount to bringing these people under our own control. Given the working habits of these yamen people, I'm afraid from then on they'll pay no more heed to the prefect and magistrates at all. It would be a complete hollowing-out and emptying of their authority. If that happens, what they could originally tolerate, they will no longer tolerate. Openly or covertly, they will employ some means. I fear there will be trouble."

Ruhui spoke very slowly, but as soon as he finished, Ji Xiang said dismissively, "What's there to be afraid of? Those few useless wretches—what means could they possibly have?"

Zhao Jin waved a hand, and Ji Xiang stopped talking. Zhao Jin narrowed his eyes and pondered for a moment, then spoke again: "Even so, I'd rather face trouble than not push this matter through."

These words were very forceful. Ruhui's expression shifted, and he was about to bow, but Zhao Jin spoke: "That wasn't directed at what you just said; there's no need for that. Let me explain it to you, and to everyone else as well. You all know I was assassinated in Qingjiangpu. The cause was a wealthy merchant's greed—that part isn't important. But what truly alarmed me was this: we thought we had built up a strong presence in Qingjiangpu, that we had it tightly under control. Yet the Smelling Incense Sect was still able to infiltrate, burning incense, spreading their teachings, and recruiting followers. Don't think it was just because that Geng Mancang helped. Think about it—even without Geng Mancang, could the Smelling Incense Sect have burned incense and preached their scriptures without our knowledge?"

The group exchanged glances and all shook their heads. As long as there were commoners who believed, setting up an incense hall in their own homes and attracting neighbors and fellow villagers to come, as long as no one leaked the information, it would be very hard to discover. Even if some unusual signs appeared, no one would pay attention. At any given moment, who knew how many critical events were happening—who would care about one commoner household? Even if a fatal crime occurred, if no one reported it, it would simply fade away in silence. Over in Qingjiangpu, if not for that assassination attempt, the Zhao Camp might never have discovered it.

"... If in Xuzhou, Suzhou, Pizhou, Guide Prefecture, and those areas, there were a few households that believed in the Smelling Incense Sect, but they never came out to stir up any trouble, then who would know? Fellow villagers and neighbors, even if they knew, would help cover it up..." Wang Zhaojing said in a low voice. At these words, Chen Sheng's eyelid twitched, and Ji Xiang and Dong Bingfeng actually shivered, as if a cold wind had blown past.

Zhao Jin nodded and continued in a deep voice: "Just like that, silently and soundlessly, they infiltrate. In ordinary times, they are also good, law-abiding commoners, respectful and obedient to our Zhao Camp. Whatever we tell them to do, they do. We know nothing at all, until one day, when the time is ripe—and then, another great chaos!"

Ruhui furrowed his brow. Zhao Jin was not wrong, but what did all this have to do with the previous topic?

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