Chapter 76: The Noble Clans Don't Pay Taxes |
When Song Shi'an spoke these words, Jiang Cong watched his expression carefully—it wasn't particularly gentle or diplomatic.
But he didn't press the matter.
"Among the city's laborers, those capable of hard physical work number around four thousand," Song Shi'an said.
"Yes, the remaining children generally do light transport work within the city. As for the women, they help prepare meals and wash clothing and uniforms for the army," Jiang Cong replied.
"Have all the people's grain supplies been collected and redistributed centrally?"
"The common people's grain has all been gathered together. They eat alongside the soldiers, rationed at the bare minimum for survival," Jiang Cong added. "As for the noble clans, each household donated some grain."
"The noble clans' grain wasn't fully confiscated?"
"The great families donated more, those slightly less well-off also donated." Jiang Cong shook his head. "But as for exactly how much grain they've stored away, that's hard to determine. Generally, they all have hidden cellars—they've probably concealed the bulk of it."
Not probably—the vast majority of their grain hadn't been collected.
Those noble clans understood very clearly that if war truly broke out, supplies would definitely prioritize the combat troops first.
And if things dragged on to the point where the entire city ran out of grain, by then, the common people would likely only get a mouthful of rice gruel to keep them alive.
Hell, they might even be left to fend for themselves.
At that point, what distinction would remain between nobles and commoners?
It would become a life-or-death struggle for grain, just like the end of the world.
Therefore, keeping grain firmly in their own hands was their only sense of security.
Even if they had more grain than they could eat and it rotted away, they wouldn't hand it over.
"Shi'an."
Seeing him lost in thought, Jiang Cong suggested: "You're newly appointed—those noble clans will definitely give you face. Gather them together, invite them as guests in the county office's name, and solicit donations one more time. You should be able to collect a bit more."
"Jiang-daren already collected once?" Song Shi'an asked with interest.
"General Zhao collected once when he arrived—that was the most successful," Jiang Cong waved his hand dismissively, laughing. "Mine? That wasn't collecting—I practically begged on my hands and knees and managed to get eight hundred shi."
That was thirty thousand jin of hulled refined rice.
It sounded like a lot, but ancient people did heavy work, had no other food sources, and under constant labor, a single soldier needed to eat at least a jin and a half per day.
That was only enough to last the garrison three days.
"Of course, Shi'an is different from me," Jiang Cong said, not entirely as flattery. "Song Fǔjūn serves as Magistrate of Sheng'an and hasn't been dismissed from office. The Song clan is also a prestigious family. When you come, you won't need to beg, and they won't look down on you. You need only explain the government's difficulties and invite the noble clans to weather this crisis together for the court—collecting two or three thousand shi shouldn't be a problem."
"My father's face is only worth this much?"
Song Shi'an wasn't quite satisfied.
"If it were peacetime, it would certainly be worth more. But now, the situation is different," Jiang Cong said with a smile. "Besides, General Zhao collected once, and I solicited once more—the noble clans will naturally have some resistance."
"Indeed, we must understand the concerns of these distinguished gentlemen."
Song Shi'an nodded slowly, falling into contemplation.
The noble clans' grain stores were an unknown quantity.
The noble clan population within the city should be around twelve hundred people.
Among them, roughly a hundred or so were people the noble clans had graciously brought out to lend to the military.
But the remaining nearly thousand people kept their gates tightly shut, their ears deaf to events outside their windows, just waiting for Ji Yuan to attack.
Song Shi'an knew what they were thinking.
Even if Ji Yuan truly broke through the city and engaged in burning, killing, and looting, it wouldn't be indiscriminate slaughter—things would be stolen, but at least not everyone would be killed.
If Ji Yuan took Northern Liang, he couldn't possibly want just the land. Right now across the realm, not just in Great Yu, but also in the State of Qi and over in Liaodong, the aristocratic families all had this trend of becoming "too powerful to control."
If he occupied Northern Liang, he'd still have to rely on these aristocratic families to govern.
If he really went inhuman and slaughtered everyone, wouldn't that break the loyal hearts of Southern Liang aristocratic families selling out their country to join the enemy?
Old Master Zhang was truly both tall and hard.
"Good, Jiang-daren, thank you. I basically understand now," Song Shi'an said with a smile, bowing to Jiang Cong.
"Then I'll go supervise the work."
Jiang Cong returned the bow to Song Shi'an, then withdrew from the office chamber.
Sitting in the county magistrate's chair, Song Shi'an folded his arms across his chest and began to think.
Honestly speaking, taking a trip to Cangxia, being able to serve for two years and survive, and if he could basically coordinate the relationship between local customs and the barbarian troubles so they weren't so acute, then returning to directly advance to the fifth rank—that seemed like a pretty decent career path.
After all, from this perspective, Shuofeng was ten times more difficult and dangerous than there.
There, only the local official needed to worry about his own head.
But here, everyone had to worry about their own head.
This was a desperate struggle for survival.
You could say everyone was a zombie.
"But it doesn't matter—I'm here to cause trouble anyway."
When your nine generations of kin can't implicate you, you become invincible.
Why couldn't those people be as badass as him?
Because they lacked the resolve to treat their nine generations as external to themselves!
Just then, a county clerk reported: "Táng Zūn, there's a soldier calling himself San Gou looking for you."
"Let him in." Hearing this, Song Shi'an immediately said.
Then San Gou entered the office chamber, showing an extremely excited expression: "Táng Zūn, I'm here."
"Hm? Didn't you get promoted to squad leader?"
Seeing him, Song Shi'an broke into a smile.
"I thought about it, and I'd rather be your bodyguard," San Gou said quite plainly. "Leaving you to those state army brats—biāoxià doesn't feel at ease."
Great Yu's military was divided into three types: the Forbidden Army, provincial armies, and border armies.
Border armies had strong combat capability, the Forbidden Army had superior equipment, and provincial armies had the greatest numbers.
The forces Zhao Xiang commanded were nominally fifty thousand elite troops, but in reality, most were provincial soldiers conscripted from various places.
"Oh, from the sound of it, you really look down on those provincial soldiers, huh?" Song Shi'an teased.
As he spoke, San Gou made an OK gesture.
Are you also a transmigrator?
Song Shi'an sat up straight in shock.
"I could take three of them."
Without a care in the world, San Gou grinned.
"You're full of shit."
Song Shi'an's mood improved considerably after seeing a familiar face.
This feeling was like in a road movie, after the journey had been going on for a long time, suddenly encountering a friend you'd made at the beginning, traveling with a convoy, saying he also wanted to go far away.
"Táng Zūn, there's one more thing." After the pleasantries, San Gou suddenly said, "We've brought someone in. The centurion didn't know how to handle it, so he had us solicit your opinion."
Hearing this, Song Shi'an stood up: "Alright, let's take a look."
Then he left the office chamber with San Gou.
This place was actually a prison, with this single room at the very end serving as the office chamber—equivalent to the warden's office.
So upon leaving, there was a long corridor.
On both left and right sides were prison cells.
But these had basically all become work spaces for the original county office officials.
Only a few tiny cells remained empty.
As soon as Song Shi'an stepped out, he saw that burly, muscular deputy general of Luo Ting's who completely filled out his armor—Wang Dalong.
Seeing him, Song Shi'an immediately went forward to untie him, speaking in a caring tone: "General Wang is no prisoner, why are you..."
"No need to falsely pretend you cherish talent. Untie me and I'll run."
Wang Dalong interrupted Song Shi'an's earnest words, his face expressionless.
Gently brushing off his hand, Song Shi'an's expression changed like a Sichuan opera mask, devoid of any warmth: "Well, you've figured it all out."
Weren't we supposed to give each other a way out?
Now I'm the one being insincere.
"You've already come to Shuofeng—you can't leave. Ji Yuan will attack soon. At that time, do you want to continue sitting in a cell waiting for us to earn military merit, or will you set aside your grudges, serve His Highness, defend our land, and resist the enemy?" Song Shi'an challenged.
Although Great Yu was propped up by meritorious nobility, the court wouldn't blindly promote nobles.
While some incompetent people would also be entrusted with important responsibilities, they wouldn't be placed in the most critical positions.
It was like this: when you discovered certain important positions were occupied by fools, you should actually feel relieved—because it meant the realm was currently at peace.
And Langya, a position of utmost importance, whether its garrison commander or deputy general, were both quite competent.
This Wang Dalong had once been a famous Northern Liang fierce general who, when leading troops in battle, had once single-handedly captured an enemy general.
If he willingly served young Wei, he would be a great asset.
"Song-sheng," staring at this man, Wang Dalong remained as rigid as iron, "No one willingly abandons Shuofeng. The loyalty you have to Great Yu, we have as well."
"Since we're all loyal, why can't we become colleagues?" Song Shi'an countered.
"Shuofeng will inevitably fall. The true battlefield is at Langya."
Thinking of this, Wang Dalong said with genuine resentment: "You and His Highness ruined the battle that General Luo and Ji Yuan both dreamed of!"
Comments 1