Chapter Twenty-Two: It's Over—My Little Cotton-Padded Jacket Is Leaking Air

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Ye Wuji went to participate in the fundraising, but Ye Xiu was not idle. In the courtyard, four large cauldrons were set up to distill the remaining Shao Daozi and Mendao Lu into high-proof liquor. Exactly seventy jin in total. The liquor was sent to a wine shop in Jinling, but Manager Liu was not there. After inspection and verification by the clerk, a silver note worth four hundred taels was immediately paid. Then Ye Xiu went to Heshengyuan and deposited three hundred taels, keeping only one hundred taels in cash, as he planned to buy the small courtyard.

Upon hearing that Ye Xiu wanted to purchase the house, the old neighborhood chief was overjoyed. The original owner was a captain in the Jinling Zhichong Mansion, later transferred to the capital. He entrusted the old chief to sell it on his behalf for just sixty taels. Housing prices were very high in the inner city of Jinling. Along the banks of the Qinhuai River, properties cost no less than five hundred taels. Even in Wulong Alley, a slightly newer small courtyard cost over a hundred taels. If it weren’t for years of neglect and vacancy, it wouldn’t have been so cheap for Ye Xiu.

However, Ye Xiu had signed a two-year lease agreement with the pawnshop and had a seven tael silver deposit. The old chief laughed heartily and took Ye Xiu to the pawnshop. The shopkeeper was extremely respectful towards the old chief, refunding two months’ rent and the deposit. The only disgruntled party was the shop assistant, who lost his high commission. None could have imagined that in just a few days, Ye Xiu would become the landlord.

During their chat, Ye Xiu learned that the entire Wulong Alley was under the old chief’s jurisdiction. In the Great Qian Dynasty, ten households made up a jia, ten jia made a bao. Ten bao within the city were called a fang, outside the city were called xiang, and in the suburbs, xiangli. So, the old chief’s proper title should be Fangzheng. No one dared to underestimate him, especially in the Confucius Temple area—everyone gave him at least some respect. After the transaction was completed, the old chief said he had to meet an old friend and left.

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Now that Ye Xiu had money on hand, he naturally did not neglect the old chief. He took Zhao Yide to the market and picked out four boxes of gifts to thank him. But when they returned, they found the old chief and an elderly man eating wontons at a stall.

“Old chief, I was going to visit you, but I didn’t expect to run into you here,” Ye Xiu greeted with a slight bow and a smile.

Zhao Youyou immediately came forward upon seeing Ye Xiu. “Brother You’an, what would you like to eat?”

“Anything you cook is fine,” Ye Xiu replied.

“Oh!” Zhao Youyou blushed deeply and shyly hid behind her mother.

Mrs. Zhao was delighted and said, “Then why don't you cook a bowl for Master Ye?”

“Mother, you…” Zhao Youyou stomped her foot in frustration but obediently scooped a bowl of wontons into the pot.

“What about me?” Zhao Yide looked at his mother and sister.

“If you want some, cook it yourself,” Zhao Youyou retorted.

“Oh no, the little darling is showing her true colors.” Zhao Yide sighed, picked up a bowl of wontons, placed it in front of Zhao Youyou, and sat beside Ye Xiu.

Ye Xiu placed the four boxes of gifts beside the old chief, who repeatedly declined.

“Old chief, please accept these.” Ye Xiu’s gaze shifted to the elderly man beside the old chief, filled with suspicion. “Hmm? Sir, I feel like I’ve met you somewhere before.”

The elderly man said nothing but stroked his graying beard as he appraised Ye Xiu. “I heard you’re brewing wine?”

“To be honest, yes, sir, I am brewing wine.”

“The earliest settler in Wulong Alley was a wine brewer. Later, business expanded, and the distillery was abandoned.” The elderly man said deliberately. “Why don’t you take over the abandoned distillery?”

“You joke, sir. Even if I took it over, it wouldn’t help—I have no manpower.”

“Our Wulong Alley is different from other neighborhoods. The residents are either military families or retired injured soldiers.” The elderly man looked hopeful. “They usually do small jobs and have no steady income. You can ask Old Sun (the old chief) to help you figure it out—it would be a good deed for Wulong Alley.”

Ye Xiu’s eyes lit up. His greatest fear was the leakage of the brewing formula, but military families were different. You might not trust anyone, but you could absolutely trust every military family and veteran.

“Indeed.” The old chief sighed, looking fondly at Zhao Yide. “These years, it’s been Yide helping them, but one man’s strength is limited.”

“As the saying goes, ‘Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day; teach him to fish, you feed him for a lifetime.’” Ye Xiu’s expression grew serious. “Then please, old chief, help me figure this out.”

The old chief laughed heartily. “Old Ye, I told you, those father and son are no ordinary folks. Having them here in Wulong Alley is a great honor for us.”

“Sir’s surname is Ye…” Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck Ye Xiu. “I remember now, sir, you are…”

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Before he could finish, a sudden commotion erupted! The rack holding the wontons was kicked over with a loud crash.

Zhao Yide was furious, immediately rising to take action, but Ye Xiu stopped him.

Mrs. Zhao and Zhao Youyou looked angry and heartbroken seeing the wontons scattered on the ground.

Looking closer, several government officials approached the stall with intimidating airs. Their official uniforms identified them as tax officers from the Taxation Department.

“Mrs. Zhao, with the end of the month approaching, isn’t it time to pay the five years of backhead tax you owe?”

“Sir, our family has been running a stall at Beimen Bridge for five years, paying the stall tax annually. This is the first time we’ve heard of a head tax…”

“Just because you haven’t been charged before doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” The tax officer sneered. “If you refuse to pay the head tax, then you can sell your daughter to our department to settle the debt. Don’t worry, once your daughter marries in, you’ll be exempt from the stall tax.”

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Zhao clutched her daughter tightly, her eyes reddened with rage. “Our family has merits and titles. Even if there is a head tax, we can be exempted.”

“So what if you have merits? Can you outmatch the magistrate?” The lead tax officer laughed arrogantly and stepped on a bench. “What are you waiting for? Arrest this little woman and send her to the magistrate.”

The other officers moved to seize Zhao Youyou.

“Huang Biao, we’re all neighbors. There’s no need to rob her like this.” The old chief finally couldn’t stand it and blocked the officers.

“According to the Great Qian law, this small stall only pays stall fees, not stall taxes.” The elderly man snorted coldly. “Stall taxes are only charged to fixed storefronts. I’ve never heard of taxes being levied on stalls under the bridge.”

“Old Sun, mind your own business. If the neighborhood chief doesn’t want to do his job, I can report it to the magistrate anytime.” Huang Biao glared at the elder. “Old Ye, don’t pretend in front of me. You’re a convicted prisoner sent to Jinling. The magistrate took pity on you and placed you in Wulong Alley. Do you really think you’re still an inspector?”

“You…” Old Sun and Old Ye were furious, glaring fiercely but helpless.

Ye?

An inspector?

Suddenly, Ye Xiu realized who this man was.

Feeling emboldened by the revelation, Ye Xiu shouted, “Brother Zhao, beat him up!”