Chapter 32: The Time Has Come

The shopkeeper, desperate for someone to vent his frustrations to, finally let his pent-up resentment spill out.

Life in Bianjing is truly difficult. While merchants are exempt from the double tax, they cannot escape the poll tax and the mandatory state labor service. Beyond the service, there are also the imperial "hiring" and "procurement" mandates. A man like him must pay three strings of cash annually for the service exemption tax. The poll tax is three hundred coins for an adult and one hundred and fifty for a child. When the imperial court orders lanterns for festivals, he must work for a month at his own expense; though the emperor grants a reward, it never actually reaches his hands.

Even more hateful is the "procurement" system. He uses his craft to make beautiful lanterns, intending to sell them to wealthy families and merchants. Instead, palace eunuchs and envoys seize them under the guise of imperial procurement, only to turn around and sell them to those same wealthy families for profit, leaving the craftsman with no business of his own. He is forced to scrape by making simple, low-profit lighting lanterns.

"Prime Minister Wang’s New Policies are well-intentioned," the shopkeeper sighed, "but they shouldn't have been forced upon people like me. Even with the loans, there’s no way to make them grow, and when the due date arrives, I can’t even pay the interest."

Li Chang’an was startled. Had the Green Sprouts Law begun to harm the people as soon as it was implemented? If this was the case, he could no longer play the role of a "hermit farming in Nanyang." If he waited for Prime Minister Wang to ruin the public's morale, his own experiments would be meaningless. After all, public sentiment—even if it is a consensus born of misery—is still a consensus. If it breaks completely, the country will truly face catastrophe.

"Are you saying the intention from above was good, but the execution below is rotten?"

The shopkeeper looked aggrieved, tears welling in his eyes, and gave a timid nod. What a long-suffering, good-hearted commoner.

"The Green Sprouts Law originally stipulated that peddlers and craftsmen in the city could form groups of five as guarantors to apply for loans from the county magistrate, with a limit of fifteen strings of cash. But the judge of the Eastern Ward said we needed 'strong relief,' forcing every household to borrow fifty strings, plus a five percent 'handling fee'..."

The shopkeeper droned on, detailing how the government office coerced them into loans. Li Chang’an was stunned. He thought he had already mastered the "dark arts" of debt and employment, but he hadn't realized there were true masters in this world—officials who specialized in lending to wealthy merchants just to pocket the five percent kickback. Indeed, to get rich, one must be an official.

"Fine. Since you’re in such a bind, I’ll give you a strategy. Stop making these festive lanterns. You have no connections in the magistrate’s office, and you can’t fight the procurement mandates; the more you make, the more you lose. Since your craftsmanship is good, I’ll show you another path. Start making funeral goods—you’ll make plenty of money selling those to the wealthy!"

The shopkeeper was baffled. He was a craftsman of festive goods; how could he produce items for the dead?

Li Chang’an explained, "In the Great Song, we value the afterlife as much as the present. There are hundreds of thousands of graves around Bianliang, and many tombs of nobles to the northwest and southwest. Don't people need tribute offerings for the seasonal rites? Beef, mutton, pork, buns, and fruits are practical, but they lack elegance. You should do this... and then that..."

After he finished, the shopkeeper still didn't quite grasp it. "What you say makes sense, Taoist, but what if the court comes for another procurement mandate? If my skills in festive lanterns grow rusty, won't I be fined?"

Xiao Su Mai rolled his eyes, looking at the shopkeeper with disdain. "He makes funeral items now! Who would want such bad luck in their homes? You’re hopelessly dense!"

Oh! The shopkeeper’s eyes finally lit up. So that was it!

Leaving the shop, Guangxiao carried several beautiful lanterns. Li Chang’an joked, "You’d better not let the government bailiffs see those, or you’ll be in for a round of beatings."

Guangxiao was puzzled. He was just holding a lantern; who was he harming? Why would he be beaten? Su Mai didn't understand at first either, but after walking a dozen paces, he figured it out and beamed with pride, ready to tell his father the joke.

"Uncle, Uncle! Is this what you call the 'daily life of a hunter'? Going to the guild to post a quest, and the lantern shop to accept one?"

Sigh, this child had read too many strange books.

They spent the day at Daxiangguo Temple, watching jugglers, eating snacks, and buying a singing cricket. They slipped back into the courtyard through the side gate, but before they could reach the bedroom, Wang Fu’s "lion’s roar" echoed.

"While parents are alive, one should not travel far! Take this!" She charged like a female general, brandishing a feather duster.

"Uncle, save me!" Su Mai dove behind Li Chang’an, shielding himself completely.

This sister-in-law really didn't treat him as an outsider. The duster danced with fierce intensity, and whether by design or accident, every strike landed on Li Chang’an’s thighs.

"Ouch, ouch..." He quickly grabbed Guangxiao as a human shield. "Run! Go to the Western Heaven and find the Buddha!"

Su Mai instinctively bolted toward his father’s study, but stopped before reaching the door and turned back. "Uncle, we’re the monkeys in this story!"

*Creak, crash!*

The two old doors of the study were almost pushed off their hinges as three or four people burst out. "Li Chang’an, something huge has happened!"

The courtyard quieted down. Guangxiao rubbed his arm and quietly led Su Mai into the room, bolting the door behind them and peeking out through the crack.

"What is it? Did the palace issue an order to arrest me?"

Wang Pang and Sima Kang were both flushed with anger, looking ready for a brawl.

"Come into the study and speak. This is all the trouble you’ve caused!"

Once inside and seated, Li Chang’an noticed the faces were all familiar.

"It’s him! It’s him!" a short, stocky man exclaimed, pointing at him. Li Chang’an frowned, sensing trouble.

"You’re called Li Chang’an, not Li Xunhuan?"

*This idiot,* Li Chang’an thought. Who brought him here? He should have let Cao Rixiu bury him in the desert long ago.

Wang Pang nodded to the short man, who then took his leave. Sima Kang waved his hands, and his two attendants departed as well. Only four remained: Su Shi, Wang Pang, Sima Kang, and Li Chang’an.

"Did you dig this pit for me to jump into on purpose? We have no past grievances and no recent grudges, Brother Chang’an. I never offended you." Sima Kang was indignant; being young, he couldn't hide his emotions.

"Where is this coming from? You said you wanted to do something, so I gave you the position of Guild President, with a monthly salary of fifty strings of cash. That’s not low. Look at the world-renowned Su Shi—he only earns fifty strings a month."

*Smack!* Sima Kang slammed the table so hard that Su Shi worried the official desk would shatter.

"You... you... you are too deceptive! What kind of 'guild' is this? It’s clearly a gang of litigious villains! You said you were just finding a patron for a cook, but you’ve been taking in anyone and everyone. There are two or three thousand people now, and there are dozens of lawsuits against the Kaifeng and Xiangfu county offices every day..."

Since the mask was off, Sima Kang didn't hold back. He spent half an hour denouncing Li Chang’an’s "good deeds" in front of the elder brother, Su Shi. During his outburst, he smashed an inkstone, two tea sets, and kicked a chair to pieces.

Luckily, Li Chang’an was taller, or Sima Kang surely would have thrown a few punches to vent his frustration. He had been miserable; he hadn't even been an official for a month, yet the impeachment memorials against him could fill a carriage, and they even implicated his father.

After his tirade, Sima Kang was exhausted, his eyes bloodshot, looking as if he were about to explode. Su Shi and Wang Pang hurried to comfort him, urging him to sit in a chair in the corner to rest.

"Chang’an, Gongxiu definitely didn't have any malicious intent. Just explain it clearly. Say something quickly!" Su Shi urged.

Wang Pang’s expression was strange—not sympathy for Sima Kang, nor hatred for Li Chang’an, but something that looked suspiciously like envy.

"Let Yuanze speak first. What happened on your end?"