MLMD -Chapter 199 The Taxation Problem

Inside the main hall of the Fang Residence, the current head of the Fang family, Fang Jiuming, sat in the seat of honor sipping tea. In front of him stood two stewards, seven or eight shop managers, and dozens of accountants, lined up neatly as they listened to his lecture.

Fang Jiuming slowly set down his teacup and said, “These goods must be delivered before the eighth day of next month. So many refugees have poured into the city lately. They may all be poor, but even if each of them spends just ten copper coins in our shops, that will still be a considerable sum. Be diligent, all of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master!” the people in the front two rows replied in unison.

However, one of the shop managers asked, “Master, forgive me for speaking out of turn, but didn’t you just say those refugees are all penniless? Do they really have the money to buy our goods?”

A shop manager beside him laughed. “Old Li, you don’t get it. These days, that Lord Yue in our city has gone crazy and come up with something called ‘relief through labor.’ He has the refugees repairing canals, building roads, and constructing houses every day, and then he gives them grain and wages. So those paupers actually have a little silver in their hands now.”

“What? Such a thing exists?” the first manager exclaimed. “That Lord Yue is throwing out silver by the handful! Does he really have so much money he doesn’t know what to do with it?”

“Not at all,” Fang Jiuming sneered. “Don’t be fooled by that Yue Yang’s righteous appearance. He has lined his own pockets quite well. According to what I know, he recently took control of Hunyuan Prefecture’s taxation authority from Prefect Jiang. Do you know what that means? It means—”

Before he could finish, hurried footsteps sounded. A middle-aged man rushed into the hall. He pushed through the crowd, fell to his knees before Fang Jiuming, and cried:

“Master! Master, terrible news! The batch of goods we brought from Datong has been… seized by the city gate officials and the Tax Office!”

“What?! Our goods were seized?!”

Fang Jiuming leapt to his feet in disbelief and shouted, “What happened? Explain it clearly!”

The man sobbed as he explained how their convoy had been stopped at the city gate, searched, and then ordered to pay taxes before being allowed to enter…

“Outrageous!” Fang Jiuming roared after hearing everything. “Those people dare behave so insolently! It seems that Yue fellow intends to make our Fang family his first target!”

The man hesitated and added, “Master, it’s not just us. I saw the convoys of the Bai family, the Nong family, the Huang family, and the Zhou family also being stopped. The Tax Office clerks were there too, demanding taxes before letting anyone enter.”

“Is that so?” Fang Jiuming was startled, then he sneered. “So Yue Yang is digging his own grave. I was worried he might only be targeting us, but it turns out he’s going after all the merchants in the city. That means he’s offended just about everyone. Heaven itself wants him dead! Hahaha… Go, invite the heads of the Bai, Nong, Huang, and Zhou families. We have important matters to discuss.”

Two hours later, the Fang family’s great hall was again packed with people—this time not stewards and shopkeepers, but elderly patriarchs in their forties and fifties. Even Fang Jiuming’s son, Fang Yingdi, had rushed back from the yamen. Everyone sat silently, watching Fang Jiuming.

“Gentlemen,” Fang Jiuming began, “You all know that Prefect Jiang has handed over the Tax Office to Yue Yang to deal with the refugees. Since taking charge, Yue Yang has been checking our shops and goods and has ordered that every shipment entering the city must register and pay taxes.

“Hahaha… The Fang family has done business for over a hundred years. When have we ever paid so much tax? Even the First Emperor said, ‘Harsh officials are fiercer than tigers.’ Today I’ve finally seen one. That Yue Yang wants to slaughter us like pigs! If we don’t fight back, all our hard-earned wealth will end up in his pockets. How could we accept that?”

His words stirred the crowd. Fang Yingdi also nodded and said, “Exactly. Our Great Ming has always had light taxes and low labor obligations. The founder set the merchant tax at one in thirty, but that was merely a guideline. Whether to pay or not has always been up to us merchants. Past prefects understood this well. But Yue Yang, the moment he took control of the Tax Office, began enforcing taxes harshly, confiscating goods from anyone who refused. How is that any different from robbery?”

“That’s right—he’s no better than a bandit!”

“He doesn’t respect us at all!”

“He’s treating us like pigs to be butchered!”

The hall erupted in angry voices.

By the late Ming, this mindset had become the norm. Officials, scholars, princes, eunuchs, and merchants all owned vast lands and businesses. Dodging taxes had become fashionable. These people made up less than five percent of the population but controlled nearly ninety percent of the wealth. To justify their greed, they invented lofty theories such as “empty monarch” and “the ruler harms the people,” arguing that the empire should be governed by scholars instead of emperors.

To Yue Yang, this was nothing but shameless hypocrisy. They refused to pay even a single coin to the state, yet demanded that the poor bleed and die to protect the rich.

By the late Ming, the system had become vicious: the rich paid no tax, while the poor bore everything. Landlords squeezed tenants with rents as high as seventy percent. When peasants tried to open new land to escape, officials colluded with landlords to tax them anyway, violating even the three-year tax exemption for newly reclaimed land. With no way out, peasants became refugees. In Yue Yang’s eyes, this was the true cause of the Ming dynasty’s collapse.

Seeing everyone inflamed, Fang Jiuming said fiercely, “Gentlemen, we cannot sit and wait to be slaughtered. We must come up with a plan to deal with that Yue!”

“Tell us what to do, Elder Fang—we’ll follow you!”

“Yes, we’ll follow you!”

For these men, taxing them was like cutting off their lifeblood. They would resist to the death.

“This can work,” Fang Jiuming thought, exchanging a knowing glance with his son.

Fang Yingdi stepped forward and declared, “Since we all agree, then it’s simple. Yue Yang wants taxes? He checks our shops? He blocks our goods at the gates? Fine—then we close our shops. We stop trading. We won’t bring in any goods. Let’s see who he can collect taxes from then!”

A sharp intake of breath spread through the hall.

He was calling for a citywide merchant strike.