The third year of Chongzhen's reign (1630 AD), Imperial Study, Beijing.
Emperor Zhu Youjian sat hunched over his desk, squinting at the pile of memorials in front of him, probably wondering if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere in his life. One memorial caught his eye. "Shanxi soil, disaster-prone since the start of the Tianqi reign, is now on the verge of total ruin..."
His mood plummeted. It was as if he had dropped through the floor without a safety net.
"Money," he muttered bitterly. "Always money. And that last line, 'To rid Shanxi of bandits, first placate its impoverished people.' Let me guess, they want me to cough up even more from my secret stash, right?"
Cao Huachun, his loyal but slightly sarcastic Grand Eunuch, leaned in, whispering in a way that could only be described as expertly bored:
"They're all after Your Majesty's privy purse, Your Majesty. Everyone's got their hands out."
"Hmph!" Zhu Youjian scoffed, tossing the memorial aside as if he were swatting a fly. "Where am I supposed to find money for them? Aren't these officials supposed to do their jobs? They can't even manage their own territories, and now they come to me begging for cash? Unbelievable."
He grabbed the next memorial, but this time, there was a glimmer of hope. This one was from Bi Ziyan, the Minister of Revenue, asking for an increase in taxes.
Zhu Youjian's eyes lit up like someone who'd just discovered a hidden stash of snacks. "Ah, now we're talking. A bit of tax increase. That's more like it."
He smiled to himself, imagining all the new silver flowing into the treasury. But then, just as quickly, his expression darkened. "Wait. Increasing taxes is no small matter. The common folk are like my own children—poor, struggling. I can't just squeeze them more."
At that moment, Liang Tingdong, the Minister of War, sauntered in, looking like he had just come from a battlefield... or maybe just a long nap, depending on your point of view. He grinned, clearly having a different idea about the situation. "Your Majesty, the people's poverty? It's all the fault of corrupt officials! Once we sweep out the rot, we can levy more taxes. Trust me, they'll be fine with it."
Zhu Youjian raised an eyebrow, as if he were a chess player contemplating his next move. "Oh? And do you think, since my ascension, we've completely rid the empire of all corrupt officials?"
Liang Tingdong, realizing he might have gotten a little ahead of himself, quickly backpedaled. "Well, Your Majesty, since your glorious rise, you've already wiped out the eunuchs. The government is now clean and pure, like a brand-new silk robe. It's the perfect time to raise taxes!"
Zhu Youjian beamed with pride. His spirit soared higher than a kite on a windy day. "Well, if the bureaucracy is spotless, and the people are united under my rule, then maybe it's time to send them a little reminder of my greatness!"
With great flourish, he wrote his decree:
"Given the perilous situation in the east and the ever-increasing military expenses, the Ministry of Revenue has made repeated requests to raise taxes. Therefore, an additional levy of three fen per mu of land will be imposed, bringing the total to one fen and two li of silver. Six northern provinces, previously exempted, shall now pay an additional six fen per mu. This new tax, dubbed the 'Liaodong Tax,' shall continue until peace is restored. For the sake of our common enemy, all subjects shall contribute to this righteous cause."
He paused, savoring his brilliance. "And they'll thank me later!" He chuckled to himself, imagining his imperial coffers filling up.
Not a moment later, Zhou Shipu, the Vice Minister of Revenue, arrived, looking slightly out of breath. "Your Majesty, despite our best efforts, some taxes are still not collected from the regions. What should we do?"
Zhu Youjian put down his brush with an air of finality. "Tell them this: Any governor or censor who fails to investigate the reasons for arrears will be equally punished. We don't let anyone off easy."
As he wrote, he couldn't help but feel a little pleased. "Ah, I am truly a man of action. Soon enough, the money will flow, the war will be funded, and I shall be hailed as the savior of the empire!"
Meanwhile, in Gao Family Village...
Li Daoxuan, now eating a plate of Rongchang braised goose (because why not?), was casually watching a magical diorama of the world through his mystical box. But wait—what was this? Gao Yiye from Gao Family Village had activated the bell to summon him. This was unusual. Gao Family Village was so self-sufficient they rarely made such requests.
Wiping goose grease from his hands, he tapped the box and shifted his perspective.
The scene snapped to a watchtower above the village. Gao Yiye was ringing a bell with urgency, flanked by two local magistrates, Liang Shixian and Feng Jun, both of whom looked… well, less than thrilled to be there in the rain. The villagers, however, were practically celebrating. "It's raining! Hallelujah!" they cried, running to find cover.
Li Daoxuan couldn't help but chuckle. "Rain's a blessing, guys. Don't act like it's the end of the world."
Gao Yiye, ever the practical one, had already grabbed a paper umbrella to shield herself. The two magistrates, however, were standing there like statues, with one (Liang Shixian) looking as if he had attended a hundred rainstorms in his lifetime, while the other (Feng Jun) was clearly scheming for any possible way to stay dry.
Li Daoxuan retracted the rain dragons with a quick thought and then asked, "What's so urgent that you had to ring the bell?"
Liang Shixian, taking the lead (because someone had to be serious), bowed and spoke. "Your Majesty, the imperial court has raised taxes in the middle of a disaster year. They're adding more to the Liaodong tax, which will put even more pressure on our people."
Li Daoxuan almost spat out his wine. "Good grief. Tax increases in a year of disaster? They really know how to kick people when they're down, don't they?"
Feng Jun nodded gravely, then threw in, "And if that wasn't enough, now they've issued a deadline for governors to figure out why tax payments are delayed. If we don't have a good excuse... we're screwed."
Li Daoxuan thought for a moment. "So, you two are afraid of a tax increase? But... you haven't been paying taxes, have you?" He smirked. "Careful, don't bite the hand that feeds you."
Liang Shixian looked awkward. "Well, uh, we have a small issue with arrears…"
Feng Jun sighed. "Three years for us, two years for them. If we don't find a solid excuse, we're toast."