Chapter 46: Benevolent Governance, Oh Benevolent Governance

Currently, there are a total of 812 people in Kengdi Village, ranging from the elderly to newborn infants.

The village elder of Kengdi is Chen Qiufu. Although he is old and moves with difficulty, his mind remains sharp, and he knows everything about the village inside and out.

Yesterday, someone from the county came looking for him regarding the land distribution, and they had a preliminary discussion.

Therefore, Chen Qiufu had already handed over the village’s population register to Li Fu and explained in detail to Li Fu and his son about the local customs and conditions of Kengdi.

After Yunge’er arrived at the site, he quickly climbed onto a chair since he was too short otherwise. Turning his head, he saw Jiang Guang holding a thick ledger.

This was one of the tools used in that era for household registration. Taxes were levied based on the population recorded in it. Without a name in the ledger, the village could not report the population to the county, nor could the person be registered there. Without registration, a person was essentially an unregistered citizen in the traditional sense.

Yunge’er stretched out his hand, and Gouzi promptly handed him the large megaphone he had prepared.

“I’ll keep it brief. I know you’re dressed lightly and must be freezing early in the morning. The sooner I finish speaking, the sooner this will be over.

Also, I imagine most of you haven’t eaten breakfast yet. See that big iron pot nearby? Soon, porridge will be cooked for you, and pancakes will be steamed as well. We’ll eat and talk at the same time, so don’t worry—it’s not a bad thing.”

Yunge’er’s voice was youthful; although he shouted at the top of his lungs, it still carried a touch of childlike innocence.

However, the county officer, the local militia leader, and Jiang Guang all looked fierce and intimidating, so no one dared to laugh.

“Here’s the situation: the honored guests Zhao family brought in were a band of cheats and swindlers. The Zhao family themselves were nearly ruined by them, and now only a few remain alive. My father knew these liars were harming the village, so he led the troops to arrest them all.

Now, the Zhao family has been found guilty of inviting thieves into the village, unauthorized lending, tax evasion, and concealing land ownership, among other offenses. Therefore, all land deeds belonging to the Zhao family have been confiscated.”

As Yunge’er spoke, murmurs arose among the crowd. Some faces showed worry and confusion.

Most of them were tenant farmers. If the Zhao family had no land, whose land would they rent?

Yunge’er paused, then glanced helplessly at his father. Originally, his father had planned to speak, but insisted this was a good opportunity to unite the people and wanted Yunge’er to do it.

His throat was nearly sore from shouting.

“I know what you’re worried about—it’s whether you’ll still be allowed to farm the land.”

“I tell you, you will!”

“Don’t underestimate me because I’m young. My father is the county magistrate of Long County, and everyone here listens to him. Besides, he loves me dearly, so whatever I say, he will make sure it is done.”

Fearing disbelief, Yunge’er quickly brought out Li Fu to demonstrate, since he was indeed very young.

Seeing Yunge’er tired, Gouzi immediately brought him some goat’s milk to drink.

Since winter began, Auntie Pan in the kitchen has been keeping goat’s milk cheese ready for him and Yi Ge’er. Yunge’er was weaned early, and Xin Niang worried about his health, so she insisted he drink it. After a while, Yunge’er got used to it.

“This land in Kengdi Village won’t just be for you to farm; it will even be divided among you! But let me be clear: the land is now public property. Once divided to you, you may farm it for free for life until the person dies. Only then will the land registered under their name be reclaimed! That means, except for prohibition on buying and selling, while you live, you can farm the land given to you however you want!”

“We are dividing the land by headcount, meaning all men, women, and children! Men and women aged ten to sixty get full shares; those over sixty get half shares. Everyone is treated equally. If a woman marries and stays within the county, the land goes with her. If she marries outside the county, the land under her name is reclaimed, and no father or brother has the right to seize it!”

Children under ten receive no land, and the elderly get half shares to consider family labor shortages and high child mortality rates. If land is distributed too early and a person dies, it must be reclaimed, which increases workload. Those with disabilities or other issues will receive proportionally less and will be compensated in other ways. These details will be worked out after implementation.

“Also, I know our dynasty collects a poll tax and a property tax. Those aged fifteen to sixty pay a property tax of 120 qian annually, which can be paid in grain (six shi), one zhang of silk, or one and a half zhang of cloth. Newborns pay a poll tax of 20 qian. From now on, Long County will no longer collect these taxes from you. The taxes paid to the imperial court will be submitted by Long County’s treasury on your behalf.”

Li Fu listened to Yunge’er’s words. Although Yunge’er had mentioned this before, and he was slowly convinced, hearing it directly still startled him.

But Yunge’er said to look far ahead; the focus was on generating income, not squeezing these poor people dry.

Because Li Fu was uneasy, Yunge’er added that this would be a pilot project. The idea was to see how Kengdi Village developed under this system before considering extending it to all of Long County.

Li Fu thought, with only seven to eight hundred people in Kengdi, if trouble arose, it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, Liangzhou was remote and mountainous—who would manage this neglected place anyway?

Thinking of this, Li Fu became excited again, marveling at Yunge’er’s intelligence and daring ideas for governing people.

Having such a prodigious son, Li Fu felt his life was fulfilled.

Yunge’er sighed inwardly, already seeing the villagers’ expressions change from disbelief to barely contained excitement.

In fact, the founding emperor of the Liang dynasty had abolished the poll tax during his reign, only collecting the property tax on adults.

But later, as tax revenue declined, the poll tax was reintroduced, initially levied from age seven, then lowered to age three. Locally, it was imposed from birth.

This tax was like the Liang dynasty’s standard rate of one in thirty, but with added levies, some places had one in fifteen, and worse areas even one in ten.

What could poor farmers say?

Even if a few were honest and studied the tax laws and found the emperor’s rate was one in thirty, tax collectors would beat them and shout, “His Majesty set taxes for each province. If you can’t pay, you’ll be punished! Would you rather our governor be punished or you? If you can’t pay, even one in ten is nothing—you have no say! If you report this to the emperor, it’s because you, a troublemaker, refuse to pay and won’t let the Son of Heaven rest!”

As Yunge’er spoke, the aroma of porridge wafted around. Several women hastily gathered from the refugee crowd were kneading dough and steaming pancakes, filling the air with the scent of fine flour—something the villagers of Kengdi had never tasted luxuriously.

Many children swallowed their saliva while wiping their noses, still unbroken by hardship. Only adults and elders began to have tears in their eyes.

Could it be… they had welcomed a little god?

Could the words of that childlike boy be true?

Yunge’er waited a moment and continued, “Not only will the property and poll taxes be waived after this land division, but future taxes on cultivated land will be one in thirty! Not a penny more will be charged—I hope everyone heard that!

Also, when serving corvée labor in Long County, you won’t need to bring your own food; the county will at least provide a midday meal. If Long County’s finances improve, a modest compensation may be considered, but that will take time.”

As Yunge’er spoke, the village elder of Kengdi trembled.

Benevolent governance—this was benevolence never before seen.

In his seventy years, he had never witnessed such kindness.

“Now that good news is told, let’s talk about the ‘bad news.’ Those whose names are called, please step forward.”

Yunge’er read names from the ledger one by one, causing a slight stir.

Those called dared not refuse—over a hundred people stepped forward.

They trembled with fear, clearly distinct from the other six hundred villagers.

But Yunge’er’s words had already taken effect; these villagers had long been tamed by this era.

They trusted the Li family as good rulers and began to support them unconditionally.

They hardly cared to distinguish right from wrong, looking at the hundred-plus people with suspicion, assuming they must have done something wrong.

This included the village elders.

He even wondered if these people had colluded with the band of swindlers. If so, they should be expelled from Kengdi.

Yunge’er shook his head—this was the ignorance of the masses.

“Here’s the deal: since the land distribution is by headcount and unified, the hundred-plus people still own land here. Your land, categorized as superior, medium, or inferior, will be purchased by the Li family and made public property. What do you think?”

This was a necessary step for reallocation.

The ban on buying and selling was mainly to prevent land consolidation. Otherwise, when one Zhao family fell, another Chen family would rise by exploiting loopholes, rendering this land distribution experiment meaningless.

Among the hundred-plus, some were unwilling, but they knew they were trapped.

If they refused to sell, they might not receive land allocations. Moreover, if the magistrate and the young prodigy became angry, it could block others from receiving land. Then these people would have no place in the village.

Villagers often reject outsiders but also reject locals.

These people hesitated. Yunge’er quickly had Li Fu speak, revealing the price the Li family intended to pay to purchase the land.

Although this was an open strategy, they had to sell. The purchase price would be fair, and after selling, they would receive equal or greater land shares—essentially a windfall.

When Li Fu mentioned the silver amount, at least eighty percent of the hundred-plus people’s eyes lit up.

Among the crowd, many wore expressions of regret—some had sold their land to the Zhao family at prices vastly lower than now, like sand compared to stone.

But now, the Li family truly appeared benevolent. Even those forced to sell their land smiled, mostly with joy.