Daily Life of a Villain at Work [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 41

Chapter 41: The Fifth Day the Villain Became Emperor~

While the hundred officials were locked in a heated debate over the new evaluation laws, Wen Qingyun appointed Si Yu as an Imperial Envoy, further granting her the titles of Governor of Zhejiang and Jiangxi to inspect the south on her behalf.

Shortly after, during a morning court session, Wen Qingyun broke protocol by bestowing a Kirin Robe (Qilin-fu) upon a mid-level official from the Ministry of Works as a reward for his constructive feedback on the evaluation laws.

This single act sent shockwaves through the civil servants of the fourth rank and below.

Kirin Robes were typically reserved for high-ranking officials of the fourth rank who had performed extraordinary service. Though it was the lowest tier of bestowed imperial regalia, the signal it sent was far more important: the Empress was signaling her personal favor. Bestowing such a robe was a clear hint—perhaps even a promise—of an impending double promotion to the fourth rank.

Sensing a golden opportunity for advancement, the middle-ranking officials stopped worrying about the “Inspection of the South” and began pouring all their energy into refining the evaluation laws, each hoping to be the next to catch the Empress’s eye. This left the Minister of Personnel and his deputies overwhelmed with paperwork, and they paid little mind to the fact that Chu Xin and Bai Siyang had followed Si Yu to the south.

…

Three months of immersive study had made Chu Xin much more composed. She now possessed a profound understanding of land annexation and taxation.

“General, I wish to stay in Zhejiang to gain a deeper understanding of the local conditions,” Chu Xin requested once they arrived.

“Very well. I will leave a squad of men with you,” Si Yu agreed readily, granting her fifty-six personal guards. These guards were elite soldiers handpicked from the Capital Camp; losing fifty-six out of her five-thousand-strong escort mattered little to Si Yu.

After thanking Si Yu, Chu Xin had her guards trade their leather armor for commoners’ clothing to avoid exposing their identities. She knew that if she appeared as a Secretary of the Ministry of Revenue, she would only see what local officials wanted her to see.

The commander of the guards was a Probationary Centurion (Shi-Baihu), whose rank (Lower 6th Rank) was exactly one step below Chu Xin’s (Standard 6th Rank). The Centurion was a tall, powerful woman—so tall that, at nearly six feet, her gender could easily be mistaken at a glance.

“I shall rely on you then, Centurion,” Chu Xin said politely. Chu Xin was self-aware; physical strength was not her forte. She was a scholar whose only notable physical skill was horsemanship.

Zhejiang Province was governed from Hangzhou, overseeing eleven prefectures and seventy-five counties. Chu Xin split from the main group at the border and headed toward Xiaofeng County in Huzhou Prefecture.

The south was far wealthier than the north. As Chu Xin rode past the villages, she saw lush rice paddies and thriving vegetable gardens. She recalled the records from the late Emperor’s reign: Xiaofeng County paid eighty catties of grain per mu. Based on a 20% tax rate, the yield was nearly three dan—almost double the average wheat yield in the north.

Wanting to see the truth for herself, Chu Xin and the Centurion posed as travelers and stopped at a farmhouse to ask for water. A farmwoman in her thirties opened the door. Seeing Chu Xin’s fair, delicate skin, the woman immediately assumed she was a rich lady out on a lark, with the tall Centurion acting as her bodyguard.

“Come in and sit. We are poor, so I can only offer you plain water,” the woman said.

“That is more than enough. Thank you,” Chu Xin replied, taking a seat on a worn wooden bench. “Sister, is it just you at home?”

“My husband is working in the fields. I’ll be joining him shortly.”

After some small talk, Chu Xin cut to the chase. “Sister, to be honest, my family is in trade. I wanted to ask if there is any new rice for sale in this village?”

“Buying rice now?” The woman looked suspicious. “Miss, it’s the planting season. No one knows what the harvest will be; even if we had surplus, we wouldn’t sell it now.”

“I just noticed the price of grain is rising,” Chu Xin lied smoothly. “I thought I could help my family and earn some praise from my elders. I heard last year’s harvest was excellent, and with the new Empress ascending, the taxes were cut by half. Surely families with enough land have plenty to spare?”

“The Empress cut the land tax by half?” The woman was stunned. “But the tax collectors never mentioned that.”

Chu Xin’s brow twitched. “The entire county of Xiaofeng received no tax relief?”

“I don’t know about other places,” the woman whispered hesitantly, “but our nearby villages all paid the same as last year: eighty catties of rice per mu.”

Chu Xin’s heart sank. She softened her tone. “Perhaps it’s because you paid early? The decree was issued in September. It might not have reached here until December.”

The woman’s lips trembled as she muttered, “But I paid in January after the New Year… and I still heard nothing of this.”

In the Great Qian Dynasty, taxes were collected twice a year. The autumn tax could be paid as late as February of the following year. If the tax hadn’t been halved by then, something was very wrong.

The central government only asked for half the tax. If the local clerks collected the full amount, whose pocket did the other half end up in?

Over the next few days, Chu Xin visited different villages. The results were mixed: the neighboring county had indeed paid the halved tax, but Xiaofeng County was either collecting the full amount or 80% of it. Not a single village in Xiaofeng had the correct tax rate.

“Lord Chu,” the Centurion said, realizing the gravity of the situation as a military officer, “General Si Yu should still be within the province. We can catch her in two days if we gallop.”

“Can you send a trusted messenger to her? I want to stay here and collect more evidence,” Chu Xin replied. If Si Yu turned back now, the local officials would notice and destroy the evidence. It was better to stay hidden while they were distracted by the local school examinations.

…

The message reached Si Yu two days later. Her face darkened as she read it. If one county was this corrupt, what about the entire province? Or both provinces?

Whether the local officials were embezzling grain or silver, both were dangerous. Why stockpile grain? To feed a private army? Why embezzle silver? To buy iron for weapons? Si Yu always prepared for the worst-case scenario.

She immediately sent an 800-li urgent report to the capital, including Chu Xin’s letter. She also sent a warning to Bai Siyang in Jiangxi: “Investigate the autumn taxes secretly. Safety first.”

…

In the capital, Wen Qingyun received the report within five days. When she saw that someone was taking money and grain out of her pocket, her face turned cold.

“Summon the Commander of the Brocade Guards,” Wen Qingyun ordered. “Immediately.”

When the Commander arrived, Wen Qingyun spoke without expression: “Select five hundred of your most trusted men. Head to Zhejiang and Jiangxi at once to investigate the taxes. If you find evidence of embezzlement, raid the offices and the officials’ manors. If anyone resists, kill the leaders on the spot. Just make sure you don’t leave obvious clues.”

She paused. “Regardless of whether you find ‘real’ evidence first, for every person killed, I expect to see a file that justifies their death sentence. Do you understand?”

“This subject understands,” the Commander bowed. “But Your Majesty… what if the trail leads to a Prefect (Zhifu) or a Provincial Councilor?”

Wen Qingyun thought for a moment. A Prefect was a high-ranking official of the 4th rank. Killing too many might spark a rebellion. “There are twenty-four prefectures in those two provinces. Keep at least twenty Prefects alive for now. As for anyone ranked six or below… kill them if you must. The Hanlin Academy is full of people waiting for me to give them a job.”

…

“The officials have grown bold,” the Empress Dowager sighed later that day. “In the late Emperor’s time, Prince Lian was assassinated during an inspection, but the late Emperor let it go to keep the peace with the southern clans.”

“But Mother,” Wen Qingyun said, peeling a grape with icy precision, “my deterrent is not yet enough. Only the officials near the capital are truly behaving. Those in the south are betting I can’t reach them yet.”

“You’ve sent the Brocade Guards,” the Dowager noted.

“Even so, I can only raid so many homes legally. It will hurt the southern clans, but it won’t pull out their roots. If they dare to touch my people as they touched Prince Lian, I will not tolerate it for a single second.”

Wen Qingyun’s voice was calm, but the Dowager heard the ruthlessness within. The princess who needed her mother’s help a year ago had truly become an Emperor.

“I know the best way to tame them is a mix of pressure and leniency,” Wen Qingyun continued. “But if their ambition has grown so much that they won’t yield a single step, I will do what I must. I know you care for the people, Mother. But sometimes, sacrificing a few is necessary so that the many can live better. If I tolerate the clans for the sake of ‘peace,’ I am truly the one hurting the people.”

…

Back in Xiaofeng County, Chu Xin had rented a courtyard to conduct her own investigation. She lived only two doors down from the local Tax Bureau Ambassador—a man whose house was far too large for his modest salary.

As she gathered more evidence from neighbors and farm records, her presence was finally noticed. On her way home one afternoon, she was nearly ambushed.

“Lord Chu, someone is onto us,” the Centurion warned, her face grim. “Should we leave Xiaofeng?”

Chu Xin, still shaken from the narrow escape, shook her head. “If we leave as soon as we meet danger, they will know we have found something. They would kill us on the road. If we stay, the local officials can’t easily wash their hands of us if something happens.”

“Then what do we do?”

“If they want to use underhanded tactics, I’ll just flip the table,” Chu Xin said. She reached into her wardrobe and pulled out a cloth bag, revealing her official seal. She tucked it into her sleeve. “Centurion, bring a few men. We are going to the County Magistrate’s office.”

Chu Xin was gambling. She was a 6th Rank Secretary from the Ministry of Revenue, two ranks higher than a County Magistrate. With the “Imperial Envoy” banner of the southern inspection, she was practically a representative of the throne. She was betting that unless the Magistrate was suicidal enough to drag his entire clan to the execution dock, he wouldn’t dare let a high-ranking official who had openly declared her identity come to harm within his walls.

“Let’s see,” Chu Xin thought, her eyes flashing. “Does he have more fear of his masters in the south, or of the Empress in the north?”