The world of film and television starts from the flow of money

The screen at the back of the main hall of the government office was painted with "The Rising Sun over the Sea", the gold paint was already mottled, revealing the underlying plaster. On both sides of the hall stood eight elm wood chairs for the village elders to use when they discussed matters.

The entire east wall was filled with shelves, densely packed with yellow books, fish-scale books, and lawsuit documents. The top layer, covered with yellow cloth, contained old files from the Wanli period, with a thick layer of dust on the cloth; the three layers in the middle contained new books from the first year of the Zhaowu reign, with blue cloth covers bound with white thread; the open grids at the bottom contained official documents to be processed today, with the corners of the papers folded with different marks according to the three categories of "urgent", "regular", and "slow".

On the west wall hung the "Tax and Labor Regulations" and the "Criminal Law Regulations". The corners of the notice paper were slightly curled up, revealing an earlier version of the document behind it.

The bricks at the kneeling place in front of the hall are the darkest in color, and have been worn by knees for many years until they are shiny. There are still a few shallow dents on the brick surface. It is said that a tenant farmer in the previous dynasty cracked the brick with his forehead when he knelt and kowtowed. Now there are some dark red stains in the dents, which cannot be removed no matter how much you scrub.

The ceiling of the hall was painted with the Twenty-Four Filial Exemplars, but the paint had faded so badly that only the outline of "lying on ice to catch carp" could be vaguely seen. A ray of sunlight leaked through the position opposite the desk, and dust floated slowly in the beam of light.

The door curtain at the back hall was made of ordinary blue cloth, but an inconspicuous word "慎" was embroidered on the lower right corner.

The injustice drum in front of the ceremonial gate is covered with newly tanned cowhide, and the drumstick is hung on the iron ring on the right side. The handle of the drumstick has been soaked into dark brown by sweat. There is an inconspicuous gap under the drum stand. Last year, a peasant woman who came to file a complaint hit her head here, and blood splattered on the plaque with the words "A clear mirror hangs high". You can still see faint traces of it now.

"Send it up!"

County Magistrate Zhao Mingyuan spread the yellow book on the desk, pressed the entry of "Lijiazhuang" with his left index finger, and scraped the edge of the inkstone three times with the red brush in his right hand. Ink dripped from the tip of the brush into the bluestone inkstone.

The old man kneeling in front of the hall was holding the deed in his hands, and the edges had turned yellow and curled. The areas where his thumb and index finger were pinched were obviously darker and brighter than other areas.

"Sir, this is the deed to the river beach left by my ancestors."

The veins on the old man's neck throbbed with every word he spoke. Zhao Mingyuan noticed that the hands he held out were covered in calluses, and half of his little finger was missing.

When the county magistrate took the document, the paper made a crisp sound. He unfolded it and held it up to the light, and found that the lower left corner of the deed was stamped with a fish scale seal from the Wanli period of the previous dynasty. The ink on the document had faded, but the three words "永业田" were still clearly visible.

"This land..."

Zhao Mingyuan suddenly straightened up, and the buttons on his official uniform tightened. "Didn't we give it to Mr. Zhou as a sacrificial field last year?"

The clerk waiting in the hall looked up when he heard this, with the tip of his pen hovering above the register. The kneeling old man did not answer immediately, but first untied the cloth belt around his waist and took out another official document from the interlayer close to his body. The paper was very new, and there were traces of glue on the folds.

"Reply to your Excellency,"

The old man held the document above his head: "The Zhou family was confiscated last month."

His arms trembled slightly, but he held them steady: "According to the new regulations of the Great Edict, anyone who occupies more than 100 mu of land will be guilty of conspiracy to rebel."

When Zhao Mingyuan received the document, he smelled a faint smell of saltpeter - this was the moisture-proof paper used by the imperial court for urgent delivery. The red seal on the document was so strong that it could be seen through the back of the paper: "The case of Zhou's occupation of civilian land must be investigated and confiscated immediately, and the land must be returned to the original owner."

The signature was stamped with the seal of the Ministry of Justice, and the ink had not yet dried.

The county magistrate paused his red brush on the inkstone, remembering that last December, when the young master of the Zhou family came to the yamen wearing a fox fur cloak, he had stood up to greet him and personally brought a cup of pre-rain Longjing tea.

Now that family’s house has become a county school, and the stone lions at the door have been knocked down...but these peasants have turned over a new leaf, it’s really fate’s trick!

"Master."

Although he knew about the Zhou family, he still had to go through the process. Zhao Mingyuan turned to his staff and said, "Go check the Zhou family's land deed archive."

"Yes!"

The aide trotted to the back hall, his official boots making rapid tapping sounds on the blue bricks. The old man in the hall was still kneeling straight, the patches on his knees were frayed.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Li Sanhuai, and I live in the west end of Lijiazhuang." The old man kept his eyes on the ground as he answered, "There are five people in my family, and three of my children are studying in the county school."

Zhao Mingyuan found the "Land System" entry, compared it with the clauses in the official document, and moved his fingers between the lines.

"grown ups,"

The aide returned with the booklet in hand, and said in a low voice: "There is indeed a problem with the Zhou family's land deed. They occupied an additional 37 acres of riverside land in the name of sacrificial land."

Zhao Mingyuan took the book and found that there were new comments next to the relevant items. The ink was different shades, and it was obvious that it was annotated multiple times. The latest one read: "According to the new regulations of the Great Edict, the sacrificial land shall not exceed the regulations."

"In that case, Li Sanhuai,"

The county magistrate pushed the ink box forward half a foot and said, "Press your fingerprints."

The old man stretched out his right hand and wiped it on the hem of his clothes before dipping it in the ink.

"Remember, you have to start paying taxes in three years."

The county magistrate took out the household registration card and wrote down the new registration information on it. His calligraphy was very neat, with sharp tips at the end of each stroke.

"Thank you, sir!"

The old man kowtowed heavily and stood up very slowly, first lifting his right knee off the ground, supporting himself with his left hand, and finally standing up with difficulty.

Zhao Mingyuan looked at the old man's back as he left and found that his right leg was obviously shorter than his left leg.

"Next!"

An old man in a hemp shirt was kneeling in the hall, holding a yellowed paper in both hands: "Sir, I am here to get a license to reclaim wasteland."

Zhao Mingyuan took the document and glanced at it. This was a deed for a river beach. According to the new regulations, those who reclaimed the land were exempt from taxes for three years.

"Put your fingerprints on it."

All of this was done according to the rules, so he didn't hesitate too much and directly pushed the ink box over: "Remember, you have to start paying taxes in three years."

"Next!"

The shouts of the bailiffs echoed outside the hall.

"I greet the county magistrate!"

The new plaintiff was a young man wearing a cotton gown, holding the "Great Edict" and the complaint in his hands.

Seeing this, Zhao Mingyuan secretly clenched the armrest, his fingertips scratching the wood and leaving a blue-white mark. This young man held the "Great Edict" as a talisman, and he clearly understood the current emperor's intention to enforce the law and intimidate all officials.

Every shout from the yamen runners outside the hall was like a hammer hitting his heart. Since the implementation of the law "Scholars and officials in the world are not to be employed by the emperor" last year, which yamen dared to say that it did not have spies from the Jinyiwei?

He lowered his eyes to hide his panic and pretended to organize the documents on the desk, but his eyes were fixed on the faintly visible belt around the young man's waist.

"Send it up."

Zhao Mingyuan deliberately slowed down his tone, but his voice trembled unconsciously, and even the ink in the inkstone was stirred by the tip of the pen, causing ripples. He suddenly remembered the rumors of a colleague in a neighboring county last month. It was said that the man bumped into the "litigation stick" holding the "Great Edict" during the trial, and was taken away by the Jinyiwei three days later and has not returned yet.

...............

At noon, the sun had just reached the top of the flagpole at the dock, and Wang Wu had already carried thirty bales of Songjiang cloth. Each bale weighed about thirty kilograms, with the three characters "Su Song Ji" written in black paint on the green wrapping, and a two-inch square tax receipt was pasted on the lower left corner.

"The one hundred and third bag!"

After Wang Wu finished counting, he stacked the cloth packages firmly on the cabin partition. The sweat on the back of his neck trickled down his spine. When he raised his hand to wipe the sweat, he caught a glimpse of the bright red seal of Shuntian Prefecture on the tax invoice, and his mouth couldn't help but grin. Last year, for the same piece of cloth, he had to affix two tax invoices, and he had to add another thirty coins for "inspection fee".

"What are you laughing at? Hurry up!"

The boat captain Zhou Quezi knocked on the gangplank with his jujube wood cane, and sawdust fell into the river: "The tide at 3 pm waits for no one!"

Wang Wu did not respond, but quickened his pace. The new straw sandals on his feet were made by his wife last night, and the soles were made of double-layered linen, so he did not slip when stepping on the wet springboard. When passing the tax booth, he subconsciously touched the purse at his waist - it contained the twenty-wen deposit he had just received this morning.

"Brother Wang Wu!" Li Er came out from behind the pile of goods, his sweaty jacket sticking to his back. In his right hand, he held up an elm wood sign with the two embossed characters "Grade A" on it, the edges of which were blackened by sweat from his hands. "Just got the work money!"

"Come on!"

He grinned and said, "Ten days of work can earn me half a piece of Songjiang cloth!"

Wang Wu took the wooden sign and weighed it. This sign was thicker than last year's, and there was a secret mark of the dental clinic on the back. He remembered that in December last year, Li Er was squatting on the dock crying while holding moldy sorghum. The sand and gravel mixed in the grain could break teeth.

"Has it been tested?"

Wang Wu rubbed the edge of the wooden sign with his thumb.

"I've checked it!" Li Er pulled open his collar, revealing a red mark on his collarbone. "I signed it in front of the inspector this morning."

There was a sudden commotion at the dock.

Four officers in grey cloth jackets escorted a fat man past. A wooden sign with the word "scoundrel" hung around the man's neck, and his wrists were rubbed bloody by the iron chain. Wang Wu recognized this man as Lin, the shopkeeper of Yongchang Pawn Shop, who had deducted the porter's money last month.

"The fifth one."

Zhou Quezi sneered while leaning on his cane: "Yesterday it was the Zhao family from the east city, and the day before yesterday it was Niu Er, it really is..."

Before he finished speaking, a black fish suddenly jumped out of the canal and hit the diving board with a "slap". Li Er quickly grabbed the fish's tail, and the fish's gills opened and closed, splashing water.

"Extra meal today!"

Li Er threw the fish into the empty basket, and the sound of the fish's tail hitting the wall of the basket was muffled.

At noon, the sound of clappers came from the tax booth. Wang Wu squatted beside the pile of goods and ate a multi-grain cake with some pickled radish pickled by Li Erniang in it.

The newly erected iron sign at the dock was just three steps away. The waterway regulations engraved in relief shone green in the sun: "Anyone who asks for the regular fee will have his fingers chopped off." There was a fresh scratch under Article 13, as if it had just been scraped with a knife.

"Two hundred and seven packs!"

Wang Wu swallowed the last bite of the cake and threw the cloth bag over his shoulder. This time he took a special look at the tax receipt - the red seal had a neat border and the ink read "Tax silver three cents", without the blurry small print of previous years.

At 2:00 pm, the last bag of cloth was loaded onto the boat. Zhou Quezi counted out sixty copper coins and placed them on the deck, each with the seal of the Canal Transport Bureau. When Wang Wu took the money, he found that the hemp rope had rubbed his palms into blood blisters, and the blood stains were on the copper coins.

"This time tomorrow."

Zhou Quezi suddenly lowered his voice and said, "We have a batch of official salt to be loaded onto the ship. The wages will be doubled."

"I see!"

Wang Wu nodded gloomily.

On the way back, Wang Wu counted the copper coins three times. When he passed by Huimin Pharmacy, he hesitated for a moment, but still spent five cents to buy a dog-skin plaster, as his father's rheumatic leg had recurred.

When the pharmacist handed him the medicine, he saw a new wooden sign hanging behind the counter: "No cheating, no fraud."

As dusk deepened, Wang Wu squatted on the threshold of his house to soak his feet. The hot water in the wooden basin was steaming white, and he stared at the water in a daze, thinking that he could buy his wife a new copper hairpin after working for five more days. From next door came Li Erniang's scolding, followed by the crisp sound of a ceramic bowl being smashed - Li Er must have lost all his wages again.

Wang Wu took out the work card from his pocket and looked at it again and again under the oil lamp. The brand marks were covered with sweat and dirt, but the words "Grade A" were clearly visible. He suddenly remembered the fresh scratch on the iron plate at the dock. He wondered who had hit the edge of the knife.

Now, there are 18 pawnbrokers along the canal, and each of them has a plaque with the words "Fair Trade" hanging on its door. Last month, a pawnbroker withheld wages, and the owner was punished by being made to stand under the plaque for three days.

Should!
………………

Just after the hour of Chen, the West Market became lively.

In Zhang Tiechui's blacksmith shop, the fire was burning brightly. He held a red-hot iron sheet with a pair of tongs in his left hand, and swung a five-jin hammer in his right hand. The hammer head hit the iron sheet with a clang, and sparks flew everywhere. The sparks fell on his leather apron, burning a few small black holes and emitting a faint smoke.

The newly hung wooden sign at the door of the shop was swaying gently in the wind. On the black lacquer background was written in white paint the official selling price: two taels and six cents for an iron pot. In the lower right corner was a red seal of Shuntian Prefecture, the ink had not yet dried.

A woman carrying a bamboo basket filled with a few cabbages and a piece of tofu stood in front of the shop. She reached out and touched the edge of the iron pot, rubbed her fingers on the edge of the pot twice, then bent her knuckles and knocked on the bottom of the pot, making a dull sound.

"Can it be cheaper?" the woman asked, looking up, with fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.

Zhang Tiechui stopped hammering and wiped his face with the sweat towel around his neck. The towel had long been soaked with sweat, and water dripped out when he twisted it. He shook his head and pointed to the wall of the grain shop opposite: "Auntie, look across."

A price list was nailed to the gray brick wall of the grain shop. It also had white characters on a black background and read "one stone of white flour, one ounce and two cents". There was also an official seal on the lower right corner.

"This is the price set by the government. We dare not mess with it. Look, this pot is made with enough ingredients. One pot is guaranteed to last for five years..."

Zhang Tiechui scratched his head, picked up an iron pot and handed it over: "Three months ago, the silk and satin shop of Old Chen's on West Street secretly raised the price, and charged an extra two coins for a piece of fine cloth..."

The woman took the iron pot, lowered her arm, and quickly supported the bottom of the pot with her other hand: "What happened next?"

Zhang Tiechui pointed across the street. A shop over there was re-hanging its sign, and two shop assistants were standing on ladders, nailing the new black-and-white price tag to the door frame.

"The sign of the silk shop was taken down on the spot by the yamen runners."

Zhang Tiechui grinned and said, "The shopkeeper knelt at the gate of the government for three days."

"Then... let's take this one!"

The bottom of the pot still had fine lines from polishing, and it felt a little rough. The woman pursed her lips and took out a coarse cloth wallet from her bosom. She untied the rope, poured out the broken silver, and arranged it on the wooden counter of the blacksmith shop. The silver was of different sizes, and the corners still had traces of the mold.

Zhang Tiechui took the scale and put the silver into the copper plate one by one. The scale slowly lifted up and finally stopped steadily in the middle. He nodded and said with a smile: "Auntie, are we going to cook?"

The woman nodded and said, "The government has newly set up a cooking instructor. I went there yesterday to learn how to steam corn cakes."

She pointed to the newly built thatched shed at the west end: "Over there, Mrs. Wang teaches how to make potato cakes, and Mrs. Li teaches how to make sweet potato soup... I'm thinking of setting up a stall at the entrance of the alley to sell steamed cakes and potato cakes. The government cook said that the new grain is good for hunger and one copper coin can fill your stomach."

The apprentice behind the counter interrupted, "Uncle Liu's on East Street uses a newly made frying pan to fry potato pancakes. He can sell two hundred of them a day!"

Zhang Tiechui tied the pot with straw rope and said, "Auntie, remember to get the wooden sign for the stall. We don't charge any money now. If business is good, come back and get a pancake maker later."

"I'll lend you some good words!"

The woman nodded repeatedly and carefully put the pot into the basket. Before leaving, she took out an oil-paper bag from the bottom of the basket and said, "Try it. This is the corn cake I made according to my new recipe."

"Not bad!"

Zhang Tiechui broke open the still warm cake. The golden, fluffy and porous cake exuded the sweet aroma of grain. He took a bite and gave a thumbs up.

After the woman left, Zhang Tiechui looked up and saw several officers at the end of the West Market helping new vendors set up their stalls. The market had doubled in size compared to last year, and the aroma of steamed potatoes and roasted sweet potatoes wafted everywhere.

"Master, should we also..."

The apprentice rubbed his hands, his eyes sparkling.

Zhang Tiechui wiped the cake crumbs off his beard, turned around and took out a blueprint from the box: "I'm thinking of making a new set of cooking utensils that can be used for steaming, boiling, frying and baking."

He raised his strong hand and drew the pattern: "Go to the training center tomorrow to ask if it is suitable for use."

The fire crackled, making the anvil shine. The aroma of various foods wafted over the West Market, mixed with the familiar smell of rust from the blacksmith shop, surprisingly harmonious.

(End of this chapter)