Chapter 16

Chapter 16
Early June, Year 31 of Anjian

Fan, the tax clerk responsible for collecting grain in Anqiu County, accompanied by his assistants, was going from village to village gathering the levies. He simply followed the ledger handed down by County Magistrate Ji. This was routine work for Fan, who had served as a legal clerk here for over a decade—he knew the process well.

But this was the first time the grain collection had gone so smoothly. Compared to previous years, households practically vied to pay their taxes early. It wasn’t that they were genuinely willing to part with their grain; rather, they feared any sudden changes might arise.

The tax rate was only thirty percent of the harvest per acre—something they had never dreamed possible. Only a few of the older farmers recalled that, some forty or fifty years ago, the local tax was twenty percent. Other years, it grew heavier with each passing season.

“Magistrate Ji is so kind, helping us increase our yield and reduce the land tax—a truly good official,” people said.

“Hurry and pay. If the imperial court changes the decree later, it won’t affect us now.”

“Yes, better to settle it quickly.”

By mid-June, all the land taxes due in Anqiu County had been paid in full, leaving everyone with a sense of relief and optimism. Life seemed to improve day by day.

Though the summer sun blazed overhead, their hearts were unusually light. They no longer worried about what to eat tomorrow, or even in the coming autumn and winter.

Among them, some were even happier—they did not stop to rest like most but continued working in the fields.

In Luoyu Village, Uncle Luo San still had spring wheat growing, allowing his family another harvest this season. Though spring wheat never yielded as well as winter wheat, it was still food.

At a thirty percent tax rate, the remaining grain would suffice to feed their large family of over ten people through the year. If they factored in their flourishing rapeseed fields, perhaps next year they could even afford to buy an ox.

Such prospects filled them with hope.

Yet Uncle Luo still felt regretful. His family focused solely on farming and had not ventured into beekeeping like the neighboring Gong family’s young men. If they had allocated some labor to tending bees, they might already be enjoying honey at home instead of trading wild rabbits for honey candy.

The Gong family’s hives, nestled among the rapeseed fields, had amassed who knew how much honey. With such expansive rapeseed blossoms these days, the bees worked tirelessly, reportedly producing fresh honey daily.

Though honey production was up, and sales were slow, keeping it for their own use was certainly worthwhile. After all, who doesn’t enjoy sugar?

Someone advised, “Beekeeping isn’t easy; it’s exhausting. Your family grows two crops of wheat, tends rapeseed, hunts wild rabbits, and chops firewood—you’ve got enough on your plate. Take a rest.”

“But if we don’t build up savings in good years, what will we do later?” Uncle Luo shot back, eyes blazing. “Better to be tired than hungry.”

His great-granddaughter had just been born a few days ago; with another mouth to feed, they needed to stockpile grain carefully.

As they spoke, the government clerks arrived to register the child’s information. Two-year-olds would receive aid at year’s end, so they had to be officially recorded. This was common practice throughout Luoyu Village, neighboring villages, Weijia Town, and even the county seat.

Even the local wealthy families had no objections.

The authorities, however, required that tenant farmers reduce their rents. Since this year’s land tax was light, if rents remained as heavy as before, the government would intervene.

Though some grumbled about Magistrate Ji’s strictness, they understood his intentions—it was all for the benefit of the local people.

As locals, they might complain openly but secretly admired this outsider who governed the county.

Everyone agreed and even hoped that, once the summer tax collections were complete, the magistrate would turn his attention to restoring the county school.

This was indeed urgent. After reviewing the summer tax accounts, Magistrate Ji began preparations for the school.

The schoolmaster was delighted every day—so long as the magistrate cared about the county school, everything would surely be fine.

Why?

Look at Anqiu County now: a bountiful harvest with low land taxes, and the magistrate personally encouraging the planting of crops and beekeeping.

If he could handle such a difficult matter as land tax collection so well, what else could he not accomplish?

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Moreover, the county school’s blueprint was already drawn up. Magistrate Ji was now coordinating with the mayor of Weijia Town to calculate the costs for this year’s enrollment and future expenses.

With these figures in hand, the county’s wealthy families would be solicited for donations.

Once the funds arrived, enrollment would commence.

Last year, the schoolmaster had lamented that Magistrate Ji had not allocated funds for the school—turns out the magistrate was simply waiting for the right time.

No wonder Magistrate Ji was so resourceful.

When the magistrate summoned him, the schoolmaster promptly brought the prepared budget to the yamen.

Just as Ji Chu stood and stretched, the schoolmaster hurried over, ready to review the school’s finances.

The county school planned to enroll seventy students, covering meals, lodging, textbooks, and writing materials.

The annual expenses were considerable.

“But is it really this much?” the schoolmaster wondered aloud, confident his calculations were accurate.

“One day’s meals cost about twenty wen per person, paper and ink ten wen, plus fifteen taels of silver for the Four Books and Five Classics, and five taels for seasonal clothing and bedding.”

Altogether, each student required about eighty-six taels of silver per year.

For seventy students, that totaled six thousand taels, and with miscellaneous expenses, roughly eight thousand taels.

Supporting students’ education was indeed costly, though the schoolmaster felt he had underestimated rather than overestimated.

Ji Chu flipped through the accounts and smiled. “I imagine your family is well-off.”

Underneath that official cap was an accomplished man.

Besides, as a successful candidate in the imperial examinations, the schoolmaster naturally came from a respectable background.

Unfortunately, there were few openings in the central government at the time, so he settled for the post of schoolmaster.

His luck didn’t match Ji Chu’s, who arrived during a crackdown on corruption that opened numerous positions.

The schoolmaster nodded. “My family holds some ancestral property in the capital of Quxia Prefecture.”

For someone like him, if the county school produced even a few promising scholars, his family could secure a minor official position for him in the prefectural city.

Alas, Anqiu’s poor conditions had so far prevented such advancement.

The schoolmaster looked to Magistrate Ji with hope.

His future promotion hinged on the magistrate’s influence.

Though both held the degree of successful candidates, the schoolmaster knew this young magistrate was far more capable than himself.

Yet Ji Chu returned to his desk and immediately cut several expenditures from the budget.

Not because he was cruel, but because if the conditions were too generous, students from moderately wealthy families would flock in, squeezing out the truly impoverished.

This was no modern age, where after securing basic needs, one could pursue comfort.

Like last year’s old winter clothes—if the goods were too good, those who didn’t need them would claim them; if modest, they would reach those who needed them most.

After the cuts, the schoolmaster murmured, “The students won’t accept this. Eight to a room—they’ve never lived like this.”

“Then they can go home. No one’s forcing them,” Ji Chu replied. “With an eight-thousand-tael budget, neither the wealthy nor I would willingly donate that much.”

Finally, Ji Chu added a scholarship program: three tiers of awards—one first prize, three second prizes, five third prizes.

Twice a year, students would be ranked based on major examinations and awarded scholarships ranging from stationery to silver and clothing accordingly.

After trimming the budget, the actual cost per student dropped to about twenty taels, considering teachers’ salaries, cooks’ wages, and other expenses.

Ji Chu emphasized that the county school’s teachers would be newly recruited and reassigned, a significant expense.

Even so, the final sum required was far less than eight thousand taels.

The schoolmaster frowned deeply, unconvinced. Could such a budget really suffice?

Ji Chu nodded firmly. “Absolutely.”

“Also, I intend to reserve part of the school’s classrooms for another purpose.”

“What purpose?”

Ji Chu pointed to the county’s beekeeping officials.

This year, many new beekeepers appeared, though few truly mastered the craft.

He planned to bring in experts to teach scientific beekeeping to locals. As rapeseed fields expanded, the number of hives would surely increase.

The classrooms set aside would serve vocational training.

The schoolmaster wanted to protest that learning was a noble pursuit and shouldn’t be displaced by bee farmers.

But considering Magistrate Ji’s capability, he thought it best to comply quietly and nodded.

Reviewing the annual costs, the total was about two thousand three hundred taels, including teaching expenses for beekeepers.

No wonder the magistrate came from a farming background—he was remarkably frugal.

With such modest sums, the wealthy would gladly contribute.

Ji Chu then said, “When you ask the county’s wealthy families for funds, use your original budget.”

“What?”

His budget was for eight thousand taels, so what about the surplus?

“Is it to be sent to Magistrate Ji’s home?”

Ji Chu shot him a glance and sighed, “Naturally, it will go towards next year’s expenses.”

“They’re willing to give this year, but there’s no guarantee for next. Might as well raise more while we can.”

He was merciless in squeezing funds from the wealthy.

Though accounts were annual, he would take as much as possible now.

He had a feeling that within a year, these families would realize who truly supported the students.

Their money would go solely to aid poor students and to teach beekeeping techniques—nothing else.

The schoolmaster thought Ji Chu was too honest.

After leaving the yamen and returning to the county school, he sighed, “There’s much I must learn from Magistrate Ji.”

Such schemes to tap into the wealthy’s funds were secrets he would keep to himself.

He and the magistrate already shared an unspoken understanding.

Ji wanted to give impoverished youths a chance.

The schoolmaster wanted the county to produce scholars for promotion.

Their goals differed, but their methods aligned.

Determined to carry out the magistrate’s orders, the schoolmaster pondered: Had Ji used this very tactic when negotiating free enrollment with the county’s wealthy gentry?

They all seemed convinced and willingly cooperated.

Not only them—everyone in the yamen and even Mayor Wei of Weijia Town were likewise persuaded.

Magistrate Ji commanded such respect and trust that people followed his plans wholeheartedly.

As the schoolmaster analyzed Ji Chu’s motives, others in Anqiu County attentively read the three new official notices issued by the magistrate.

The first announced recruitment of teachers for the Four Books and Five Classics. Those holding the title of successful candidate or above could apply, undergo exams and interviews, and be selected based on merit.

This targeted literati with credentials in the county.

Eager scholars sharpened their pencils and hit the books—the examination was scheduled for the end of June, just around the corner.

If this notice affected relatively few, the second was broader.

Any student in Anqiu County between twelve and twenty-five years old could register for the county school entrance exam. The top seventy scorers would be admitted, receiving food, lodging, and study materials.

This exam would be held in October, after the autumn harvest, when everyone had time to prepare.

The third notice was even more unusual.

The magistrate was recruiting beekeeper instructors.

Those skilled in beekeeping in the county could apply.

Beekeeping? And teaching?

Would these beekeeper teachers also instruct others in honey cultivation?

Magistrate Ji seemed to be opening yet another avenue for the people to earn a livelihood!