New Policies in Sichuan

Chapter 13 The Heads Register

That night in Qingcheng County, the fire didn't burn down the Fenghe Grain Store, but it did rouse the county government office.

At this hour on a normal day, the county government office would probably only have two night lamps, three dozing mosquitoes, and a watchman so engrossed in his work that he'd practically lost his mind. But tonight was different. The fire had barely been extinguished when people and tents were being brought into the office in cart after cart. Even the stone drums at the entrance seemed to suddenly realize they were in the eye of the storm, looking more energetic than during the day.

The main hall was brightly lit.

Three boxes, intercepted from Fenghe Grain Store, were laid out on the table. Half-burnt account books, soaking wet tickets, and oil paper packages dug from the well covered the entire table. Further down, a row of kneeling people could be seen.

There was accountant Zou, a cart attendant, two people stepping on the fire pit, warehouse clerk Feng Si, and clerk Zhao who had just been brought from home.

Zhao Shushou arrived in the most disheveled state.

He had lost a shoe, his hair ornament was askew, and his trouser legs were covered in mud. It looked like he had just been about to climb over the wall to escape, but before he could get over the wall, he was pushed into a ditch by Sun Kuo's men.

Standing to the side, Gao Chengli looked at the people in the hall, all covered in dust and kneeling in various postures, and suddenly felt a very complicated feeling: This scene was very unlike a county government office.

It's more like shaking a whole nest of mice that usually hide in the cracks of account books out into the light.

Meng Xuanzhe sat behind the desk, with the half-burnt short note beside him.

He had already read the first eight characters three times.

—Accounts can be repaid, but lives cannot be spared.

The first half of the sentence is easy to understand.

The second half of the sentence is where the real problem lies.

What does "no one can be spared" mean?

Is it that witnesses cannot be retained? Or that people on the roster cannot be checked? Or perhaps, neither should be retained at all?

Meng Xuanzhe knew very well that if the fire was treated as a case of destroying accounts tonight, at most a few accounts could be salvaged, a few employees could be apprehended, and a connection could be found between the official granary and the grain store.

Is it enough?

Enough to cure a few people.

Is it big enough to lift the pot?

Almost there.

The real big picture often lies not in how the money in the accounts is spent, but in who ultimately gets the money to "replenish" their accounts.

in other words--

This fire is not just about burning the accounts.

And there's that string of people behind the tent whom you can't touch.

He picked up the half of the short note and tapped it lightly on the table.

"You can all read, right?"

The people kneeling below looked at each other, none of them daring to utter a sound first.

Meng Xuanzhe was not annoyed, he just raised the short letter slightly.

"It's okay if you can't recognize them all, I'll read them to you."

"Accounts can be repaid, but lives cannot be spared."

He read very slowly and in a low voice.

But these eight words seemed to have hooks, each one piercing the faces of the people below. Zou, the accountant, had originally wanted to maintain his composure, thinking that "even if a scholar is down on his luck, he cannot lose his integrity." But upon hearing this, his eyelids finally twitched uncontrollably.

Feng Si was even more so; kneeling on the ground, his shoulders visibly shrank, as if someone had suddenly blew a cold breath on his back.

Zhao Shushou was the most cunning. He first pretended not to understand, then secretly glanced in Zhou Ling'an's direction, only to find that his magistrate's face was even more unpleasant than his own. He immediately buried his head back down.

well.

There's no need for a trial; they've already written their guilty conscience on their faces.

Meng Xuanzhe put down the short letter and said calmly, "Who wrote it?"

No one spoke.

There was a brief silence in the hall, followed by the soft crackling of charcoal in the brazier.

Gao Chengli coughed, preparing to put on his villainous act and make a few threatening remarks, but Meng Xuanzhe spoke first.

"Nobody recognizes it?"

He nodded, his tone very calm.

"Alright."

"Let's start with the simplest one."

He casually picked up an old book he had found in the box and turned to a page.

"On the ninth day of the third month of the twenty-fifth year of Guangzheng, the seal was resealed and the register changed. Twenty shi of grain were to be paid for as commercial grain, with the remainder to be settled separately." After reading this, he looked up at Accountant Zou and asked, "You wrote this, didn't you?"

Zou, the accountant, had dry lips but forced himself to say, "Your Highness... the handwriting looks like it was written by me."

"The handwriting looks like yours, but the accounting doesn't seem to be yours?" Meng Xuanzhe smiled. "Mr. Zou, you have an interesting way of speaking. It's like you're acting like someone else's accountant."

Someone outside the hall couldn't help but chuckle softly.

Accountant Zou's face flushed, but he dared not argue and could only continue to play dead: "The business accounts are complicated, and I am only doing my job as the owner to record the cash flow. As for the details..."

"You don't understand, do you?"

"……yes."

Meng Xuanzhe nodded and, being very accommodating, finished the sentence for him.

Then he handed the ledger to Gu Chengyan: "Continue."

Gu Chengyan had been waiting for this sentence, so he immediately turned to the next page and read it aloud:

"On the 12th day of the third month of the 25th year of Guangzheng, seven additional people were added to the roster, and their grain rations continued as before."

He paused for a moment when he got to this point.

Seven people were added to the quota.

Grain will be distributed as usual.

These eight characters, taken out of context, exude a sense of frivolity.

What is meant by "supplementary allowance"? Whose allowance is being supplemented? And why is the "food allowance being paid as usual"?

The expressions of the people below the hall changed simultaneously.

Meng Xuanzhe narrowed his eyes.

coming.

He had originally thought that the "headcount register" would be hidden either in the military register or the household register, and that he would have to search through several more books before it would come to light. Unexpectedly, Accountant Zou was quite bold in his old records, and simply left a corner of it for him in the business register.

He stared at Accountant Zou: "Seven additional people to fill the quota, what does that mean?"

Accountant Zou's Adam's apple bobbed: "Well... sometimes people come and go in the business, and that's recorded in the accounts..."

"Fenghe Grain Store is hiring so many employees that they have to 'continue paying rations'?" Meng Xuanzhe interrupted him. "When you hire people, do you pay them a monthly wage or military rations?"

Accountant Zou: "..."

That makes it impossible to reconcile.

If they were shop assistants, the term "providing grain" shouldn't be used at all; if they weren't shop assistants, then it's worth discussing where these seven people came from.

Zhao Shushou knelt beside him, sweat already beading on his forehead.

Meng Xuanzhe saw his reaction clearly and decided to call on him directly.

"Zhao Shushou".

Zhao Shu's hand trembled, and he hurriedly kowtowed, saying, "I...I am here!"

"You work alongside the registrar, handling tasks such as sealing documents, copying, and forwarding texts, right?"

"……yes."

"Then tell me what it means to supplement the quota of seven people and continue to provide rations as before."

Zhao Shushou's expression suddenly became quite interesting.

It was so dramatic it was as if someone was forcing him to choose a slightly more dignified ending between "speaking now" and "dying later."

He stammered for a long time before finally managing to squeeze out, "This...this is just standard practice..."

"It's the same old routine again." Meng Xuanzhe almost laughed out loud. "Your Qingcheng County is really interesting. Other families have the custom of worshipping their ancestors during festivals, but your custom is to make up false accounts for everything."

Gao Chengli lowered his head and pursed his lips.

No, you can't laugh.

He's now someone from the Crown Prince's palace, so he has to be composed. But His Highness's words were so hurtful that he almost lost his composure.

Zhao Shushou choked, his face turning red. Finally, he couldn't hold on any longer and stammered, "Your Highness, supplementing the quota... that is, supplementing the missing heads in the register."

"The head count is missing?" Meng Xuanzhe looked at him. "Even if the people are gone, the head count still needs to be on the books, is that what you mean?"

Zhao Shu's lips trembled; he dared not accept it. But not accepting it was tantamount to accepting it.

The thread in Meng Xuanzhe's heart finally began to straighten slowly.

Why does the rice in the granary need to be sent to the grain depot? Why is there such a rush when the grain depot's accounts are burned? Why does the short letter say, "Accounts can be repaired, but heads cannot be spared"?

Because these accounts, from beginning to end, were not simply for the purpose of eating a few more bushels of rice.

This rice is used to feed the "people".

To be precise, it was used to support the heads of those people on the tent who should have disappeared, but couldn't.

Dead, deserters, the sick and disabled, those who are nominally employed, those who fraudulently claim benefits.

They may be long gone in reality, but they're still alive and well in the records, receiving food, pay, and quotas every month. Once the accounts are verified, the first thing to be exposed won't be which grain store suffers, but the entire set of records for soldiers, households, and granaries will collapse.

Thinking of this, Meng Xuanzhe was no longer in a hurry.

At this point, the case is no longer just about grain.

It's a case involving human heads.

He raised his hand: "Gu Chengyan, write down that sentence from earlier."

Gu Chengyan wrote: "Fill in the missing heads in the register."

"Let me add one more thing," Meng Xuanzhe said, "After the quota is filled, the grain rations will continue as before."

"Yes."

The words landed lightly on the paper.

But the backs of the people below the hall felt as if they had been crushed by stones.

Especially Zhou Ling'an.

He stood aside, not daring to say a word from beginning to end, but his face had grown increasingly ashen.

Only now did he realize how naive he had been in trying to divert the Crown Prince's attention to things like "the granary's oversight" and "the grain store's fire."

The person in front of you isn't here to catch one or two unlucky souls.

He started by picking at a single grain of rice, then went directly to the living and dead people on the back of the booklet.

Once you get to this level, no one can fool you with mere "oversight."

Meng Xuanzhe looked at Accountant Zou: "You can continue to pretend you don't know. Let me ask you another question—"

"Which volume did these replacement heads belong to?"

Accountant Zou gritted his teeth and remained silent.

"Is it the household register?"

They remained silent.

"Is it the military household register?"

Zou Zhangfang's eyelashes twitched.

Meng Xuanzhe smiled.

Sometimes, when judging someone, the most useful thing isn't the answer, but their uncontrollable reaction when they hear a question.

He didn't look at Accountant Zou again, but turned directly to Zhao Shushou.

"What type of seals does the registrar usually ask you to deliver?"

Zhao Shushou wanted to try to bluff his way out of it a bit more, but the accountant Zou's quick glance had already given him away. He knew that if he stubbornly resisted now, the one who would really be the one to suffer the consequences later would most likely be a petty official like himself, who was the easiest to manipulate.

Thinking of this, he finally hardened his heart, knelt down, and said:

"Your Highness...most of them are from the military households."

The room fell silent the moment those words were spoken.

Gao Chengli felt a numbness in his back.

really.

It's really gotten into the military.

Meng Xuanzhe was not surprised at all.

When he saw that old soldier's plaque at the city gate last night, he knew that the line of military households would be brought up sooner or later. Now it's just that "the widows of border soldiers can't get porridge" has been replaced by "the county's population is supplemented by military registers".

The only difference is that one is the cry of the poor, and the other is the hand of the officials.

And now, this hand is exposed.

"Which side are the military households?" Meng Xuanzhe asked.

Zhao Shushou swallowed hard: "The county's attached garrison soldiers, the quota for retired soldiers, and... and the old registers that were not deleted after the casualties."

Speak like a human.

Zhao Shushou was almost in tears: "It's just... it's just that the damned ones haven't been written off, the ones who should have left haven't been accounted for, and the people who should have been replaced haven't been replaced, but the accounts still need to be filled. If the numbers aren't filled, the grain and pay won't match..."

it is good.

Now everything is completely clear.

They first kept the dead and empty names in the accounts, then moved grain from the granaries and through grain dealers to "feed" these quotas little by little. In this way, when the higher-ups checked the accounts, everyone looked presentable, but the people who were actually alive might not see a single grain of rice.

wonderful.

How wonderful.

A rotten set of accounts spread from the official granaries all the way to the military registers. This is no longer a matter of a few corrupt officials taking a bite out of the country. This is directly using the very bones and muscles of the nation as a chopping board to divide their own flesh.

As Meng Xuanzhe thought of this, the smile in his eyes slowly faded. He looked at the crowd below and suddenly nodded slightly.

"I see."

"No wonder you say that debts can be settled, but lives cannot be spared."

"Because if the accounts are burned, they can be copied again; but once the heads are counted—"

He paused, his voice low, yet it sounded like a knife slowly being pushed across the table.

"In Qingcheng County, some people will go from being alive to being dead."

The people below the hall all trembled.

Feng Si, in particular, practically buried his face in the floor tiles.

He finally regrets it.

If he had known that the Crown Prince would pull out the military registers after finding out, he would have preferred to bury himself in the granary back then, rather than kneeling here now listening to the things he has done over the years being revealed one by one.

Just then, someone outside announced: "Your Highness, the old soldier who was earlier at the granary gate asking for grain for the soldiers has come to see me with an old military token, saying he has something to report."

Meng Xuanzhe's eyes flickered.

Veteran?

The image of the lame, retired soldier by the city gate immediately flashed into his mind.

Cao Lie.

finally come.

"Bring it in."

A moment later, a lame old soldier was led into the main hall.

He knelt as soon as he entered, his back ramrod straight, holding a bundle of wooden plaques and scraps of paper wrapped in old cloth. His face was weathered, and there was an old scar near one eye. His legs dragged a little when he was standing, but his kneeling was steady, as if he had either never knelt before or always knelt with utmost seriousness.

"This humble subject, Cao Lie, greets Your Highness."

Meng Xuanzhe looked at him: "What do you want?"

Cao Lie pushed the package forward, his voice a little hoarse but firm.

"Now that Your Highness has found the headcount, this humble subject dares not keep quiet any longer."

"These are old military badges from over the years that should have been cancelled but weren't, should have died but weren't, and should have received pensions but had their quotas taken instead."

"I may not know many characters, but I can recognize people."

Some people are already buried.

"But they're on the register—"

"They're still alive and eating."

The hall fell silent again.

Gao Chengli felt his scalp tightening in waves.

Okay.

Just as the "seven replacements" were pulled out of the grain store's accounts, someone came with an old soldier's badge to check their place.

This is no longer a matter of following the clues.

This is the vine itself rolling the melon towards the prince.

Gu Chengyan strode forward, took the packet of military tokens, and after a quick check, his eyes darkened.

"Your Highness..." he said in a low voice, "These identification numbers seem to overlap with the roster of attached guards that we copied earlier."

"How many layers?" Meng Xuanzhe asked.

Gu Chengyan quickly flipped through the documents at hand, then checked them against the wooden plaque one by one, his voice becoming more tense:

"At least... seventeen people."

The expressions of the people below the hall changed again.

Seventeen people.

These are not just one or two names that slipped through the net, but seventeen names that should have been removed from the register, yet are still alive in the records.

Meng Xuanzhe leaned back in his chair and suddenly laughed.

This time, however, his smile was anything but relaxed.

"very good."

"Granary accounts, grain accounts, and military household accounts."

"I've truly seen something new about Qingcheng County today."

He looked at Gu Chengyan, his voice so calm it sent chills down one's spine:

"Get the entire register of that unit of soldiers registered in this county—"

"Transfer them overnight."

Gu Chengyan was startled and immediately replied, "Yes!"

Zhou Ling'an's face finally turned completely ashen.

He knew it was over.

The crown prince finally reached out to that group of soldiers.

Once that place is uncovered, it won't just be a matter of a few bushels of rice or a few ledgers.

That was a whole troop of soldiers, a whole group of military households, a whole chain that relied on the dead for food and the living for carrying tents.

If the fires at the granaries and grain shops could be considered "local abuses," then the opening of the military register would burn down the very laws and regulations of the imperial court.

Looking at the pale faces in the hall, Meng Xuanzhe felt increasingly calm. At this point, he understood completely. His pilot program wasn't just about checking granaries and balancing grain supplies. The real key was always the soldiers.

Who ate the grain in the granary? Why can't the military households' pensions be paid? Why is there enough soldiers for that troop, but the camp is empty?

The answers are mostly in the booklet.

And booklets are the most ingenious and the most ruthless thing.

Because it looks like just paper, but with each stroke added or removed, what ultimately falls is the life of a real person.

He tapped the table lightly, his gaze falling on the old military identification tags, and slowly uttered a sentence: "It seems—"

"The real tough nut to crack is not in the warehouse, but in the pilot program of 'one county, one warehouse, and one troop of soldiers'."

"In the military register."

As soon as he finished speaking, a sudden gust of night wind blew outside the hall, causing the lamplight to flicker slightly. At that moment, Gu Chengyan raised his head and said in a low voice, "Your Highness, if these old military badges are still hanging in the register..."

"The soldiers on the county's payroll—"

He paused, his voice deep.

"There are probably far more than the number of soldiers who survived and were able to stand up."