Chapter 61: Absurdity

Before nightfall, around two in the afternoon, Qin Fangniang and the other two returned from the county town with deeply troubled expressions.

Sang Luo initially thought they hadn't sold everything, but upon closer inspection, the carrying poles were completely empty. She asked Qin Fangniang, "Auntie, what's wrong?"

Qin Fangniang's face was somewhat pale as she replied, "When leaving the city, we saw the yamen runners posting a public notice at the city gate. It seemed to say something about paying rent and taxes, but we already paid this year's rent and taxes back in early spring. Why do we have to pay again?"

Feng Liuniang still found it hard to believe, "Could it be a mistake? None of us are literate, so we were just listening to rumors passed along from people ahead of us."

Qin Fangniang looked somewhat distracted and said, "I hope it's a mistake. I need to hurry home and tell them first, then have my father ask the village chief to find out."

Gan Shi was clearly also in a hurry to return, though she retained enough presence of mind to confirm the tofu needed for the next day. Qin Fangniang and Feng Liuniang then snapped back to reality, stated the quantity of tofu they required for the morrow, promised to send the money a bit later, and hurried off.

Sang Luo had just finished making two drying racks, but she no longer had the heart to continue. Deciding to put it aside, she descended the mountain as well and headed toward the Chen family's home.

...

"Pay rent and taxes?" Old Man Chen shook his head as if hearing an absurd myth. "That's impossible. We've already paid our rent and taxes for this year. Was it the yamen runners who read the notice to you?"

Qin Fangniang shook her head. "We left the city late, and the runners who posted the notice were already gone. We only heard people discussing it nearby and asked about it, and they said it was for rent and taxes."

The new grain was still on the drying ground, not yet even stored in the granary, yet such news had already arrived. Old Man Chen paced anxiously back and forth inside the room, unable to stay still. "I'm going to the Zhou family."

Just as he stepped out the gate, he ran into Shi Erlang and Old Man Lu walking together. As the three met, Old Man Lu saw Old Man Chen heading out and asked, "Are you off to the Zhou family?"

Old Man Chen nodded. "Going over to find out what's going on."

The two of them saw no need to enter the Chen house now and simply turned to accompany him toward the Zhou family residence. The entire walk was filled with silence.

During the grain-drying season, Village Chief Zhou himself did not need to be busy outside, so he was unusually resting at home today. Seeing Old Man Chen and the others approaching, he was initially startled. Realizing that members of these three families were currently running stalls in the county town, he vaguely guessed something, and his sense of ominous foreboding deepened.

Thinking thus, he stood up and walked out to greet them a few steps. "Uncle Chen, Uncle Lu, what a rare occasion for you both to come over to my place together!"

He also exchanged greetings with Shi Er and invited the three of them inside to sit.

Old Man Chen had no heart for pleasantries and directly recounted what his daughter-in-law had heard in the county town. "We find it hard to believe. Didn't we pay our rent and taxes for this year just this past spring? Why do we have to pay again? We figured there wasn't anyone literate around the notice at the time—could it be a rumor spreading errors? We came specifically to ask you if you've heard any news."

Village Chief Zhou pondered for a moment and shook his head. "I haven't received any word here, but I did faintly hear before that several states in the north suffered severe disasters, and conditions outside are not very good."

He had some suspicions but dared not confirm them. He could only say, "Let's wait a bit longer. If what the notice says is true, then by this evening or tomorrow at the latest, the township head will surely come to notify us."

How could Old Man Chen and the others wait until evening or tomorrow? Every extra moment of waiting felt like burning in agony.

Having tightened their belts and struggled through half a year, just as they finally saw a glimmer of hope, they were told they had to pay rent and taxes again. Who could accept such a thing?

Just as they were wondering what to do, they heard three beats of a gong in the distance, followed by someone shouting loudly, urging everyone to go to the village drying ground to listen to an official announcement.

To summon people to the village drying ground usually meant the township head or the village chief had something to say. But the village chief was right here—who was beating the gong and calling people?

This instantly verified Village Chief Zhou's earlier words. The hearts of the four people present sank heavily, shattering their last shred of wishful thinking.

"Let's go take a look."

Village Chief Zhou invited Old Man Chen and Old Man Lu to go first, following closely by their side.

In the distance, the figures standing in the drying ground were none other than Township Head Zhou and two other township officials.

...

The villagers were still arriving in a steady stream. Village Chief Zhou walked directly toward Township Head Zhou. "Seventh Brother, what is this about? Are we really required to collect rent and taxes?"

Township Head Zhou glanced at him. "You've heard?"

Village Chief Zhou nodded. Without mentioning where he had heard it, he simply stared at him, waiting for an answer.

Township Head Zhou waved a hand. "Just wait. I'll explain it all together in a moment."

...

Sang Luo had come along with Old Grandmother Chen. By coincidence, she ran into Shen San and his wife, who had just emerged from their home upon hearing the sound of the gong.

Shen San cast a sidelong glance at Sang Luo, snorted dismissively through his nose, and strode ahead.

Sang Luo: "..."

What is wrong with him?

Old Grandmother Chen patted Sang Luo's hand and said, "Pay him no mind. Let's go see what this is about. They can't possibly make us pay rent and taxes again, right? The government wouldn't do such a thing, would they?"

Sang Luo's heart remained suspended. She had not forgotten that rent and taxes had already been paid in advance here once this spring. Since there was a first time, and the baseline had already been moved, moving it again and setting their sights on a second time was entirely possible.

People gradually gathered until men, women, old, and young filled the small expanse of the drying ground.

Township Head Zhou cleared his throat and finally prepared to speak, pulling a notice out from his sleeve to read aloud first.

Naturally, very few people could understand the florid, bureaucratic language of the notice. Once he finished reading, he folded the paper and explained it in plain, ordinary speech.

The general gist was that natural disasters had occurred frequently in various states over the past few years, with last year being particularly severe. The imperial court had provided relief from all sides and was now facing severe difficulties. Driven by unavoidable necessity, they had no choice but to ask everyone to pay next year's rent and taxes in advance, so that the imperial court could tide over the present crisis.

No matter how embroidered the phrasing, it was still a mouth that devoured people.

The crowd instantly erupted into an uproar.

"Collecting next year's rent and taxes in advance? There is no such logic! The rice in the fields won't grow next year's grain for me ahead of time just because they ask!"

"Paying rent and taxes twice a year—how are people supposed to live? The new harvest has just been gathered, and before we've even tasted it, they come to take it away."

"The imperial court is in trouble, the officials are in trouble, but do we ordinary people not deserve to live?"

Someone began to weep aloud: "This world... it's eating people! It's eating people!"

When the adults cried, children too young to understand were frightened and joined in the weeping. For a moment, the very air breathed into the lungs at the drying ground seemed steeped in despair.

Sang Luo stood beside Old Grandmother Chen. For the first time since transmigrating, she felt a profound chill radiating from head to toe.

Her dread was not merely about whether she could pay this round of taxes, but a deep fear of the era, the world, and the imperial court that held the fate of the common people in its hands.

In the original owner's memory, she only knew her own tiny corner of the world, but the official notice mentioned successive natural disasters across multiple states—not just a single state or county.

As for the court's so-called relief efforts, Sang Luo could find not a single trace in the original owner's memories.

War, recurring natural disasters, an unresponsive government, heavy taxes, and harsh corvée labor—this was by no means the sign of a prosperous era. If things continued this way... Sang Luo's hands and feet grew ice-cold; she dared not imagine it.

Though she had never experienced times of chaos, she knew well enough: rather be a dog in peace than a man in war.

...

Township Head Zhou was still up front working on the crowd, implying that by paying this year, next year's taxes could be waived. He first reasoned with them and then resorted to intimidation. This was the imperial court's will; all land under heaven belonged to the sovereign. Refusing to pay rent and taxes meant waiting to be sent away for penal labor. Whether you lived or died through that was for you to weigh yourselves.

With that, he handed a roster to Village Chief Zhou. "This is the collection roster for your village. Let the grain dry for a few more days. In the meantime, use this roster to get people in line. The yamen runners will arrive in our villages on the ninth. Don't have a bunch of people stalling and refusing to pay by then. After the seventh, you'll have to deliver the rent and taxes to the county town yourselves."

"Every household has just harvested grain right now; no one should be unable to pay. Make it prompt and clean. Stalling does no good. The final deadline for tax collection in our county this autumn is the fifteenth of the ninth month. Once that passes, it's no joke. Refusing to pay rent and taxes means serving the most grueling labor, and if it happens to coincide with wartime, you could be thrown into the border garrison as regular troops at any moment."

Village Chief Zhou's jaw tightened rigidly as he accepted the roster from Township Head Zhou's hands.

Sensing his depression, Township Head Zhou remarked, "All right, these matters aren't something people like us can control; we can only follow orders. You get to work; I'm off to the other villages."

With that, he called the other two township officials and prepared to leave.

Village Chief Zhou looked out over the villagers in the drying ground—some weeping, some wailing, some howling to the heavens, and others silently wiping away tears. Among them, he spotted his own wife and children, looking equally desolate, as if they had lost their parents.

Though deeply aggrieved, he was truly powerless. When the imperial court made a decision, there was no room for rustic farmers like them to dispute it.

With this thought, he opened the roster given to him by Township Head Zhou. After glancing at just a few lines, he sensed something was wrong. He flipped through several more pages and suddenly bolted to chase after the departing officials.

Township Head Zhou was not walking very fast. Village Chief Zhou ran after him, shouting the whole way: "Seventh Brother! Seventh Brother!"

Township Head Zhou stopped, turned around, and waited. As Village Chief Zhou reached him, breathing heavily from running too fast, he gasped, "Seventh Brother, this roster is wrong."

Already, sharp-eyed villagers had noticed Village Chief Zhou shouting as he chased Township Head Zhou and were looking in their direction.

Township Head Zhou glanced back at the villagers in the drying ground, then back at his clan younger brother. "What is wrong with it?"

"Shi Dalang, Chen Dashan." Village Chief Zhou opened the roster, pointing to two names on the first page, and then flipped rapidly backward. "And there are many more—Shen烈, Lu Jiangerlang, Li Sanshoulang... the dozen or so men drafted from the village earlier, all of them died in battle. Why are they still on the tax collection roster?"

Several observant villagers, straining their ears to catch the commotion, were now approaching.

Village Chief Zhou stared at his clan elder brother, waiting for a reply.

Township Head Zhou lowered his gaze, then looked back up to ask, "Who said they died in battle? Where are the death certificates? Are there any?"

Village Chief Zhou was struck speechless by the question. His lips moved for a moment before he finally managed to say, "Seventh Brother, the imperial court never issued them for this batch."

Township Head Zhou let out a very faint sound of breath through his nose. "Well, there you have it. Without death certificates, how do you prove they died in battle?"

Village Chief Zhou glared at him. "Seventh Brother, the imperial court didn't issue them, but you clearly know the truth! Everyone went from village to village to find out. You can submit a petition on their behalf!"

"I don't know anything. What would I know?" Township Head Zhou interrupted him. "I am the township head, true, but I can only act according to the regulations. What can the words of one or two old veterans returning from the battlefield prove? How am I supposed to petition?"

"Without a death certificate to prove they died in battle, they are still considered alive. They are still registered adult males, and so they must pay rent and taxes." Township Head Zhou looked at his clan brother, pronouncing each word clearly, "This is the law, Number Nine."

With that, he shoved the roster back into Village Chief Zhou's hands and walked away.

Old Man Chen had been among the first to notice Village Chief Zhou's movement and was one of the few who had vaguely heard the entire conversation. He stared blankly at Township Head Zhou's receding back, then turned his gaze to Village Chief Zhou. His face, full of wind-worn gullies, and his eyes, which seemed to have lost their focus for a fraction of a second, staring aimlessly into emptiness, were filled entirely with the absurd.

No, it was sheer madness.

Old Man Chen tilted his head and muttered, "Nephew Jiuzhang, what were they saying? Did I just hear that my Dashan is still on the tax-paying list?"