As soon as November entered, there was a heavy snowfall across western Liaoning.
It rained all night in Linyu, and the snow in the city reached knee high.
The middle-aged scribe, whose face turned pale from the cold, stood in the snow, his shoulders and head covered with a layer of snow.
But he was still as straight as a cypress, with his back straight.
His clear face was full of determination, looking at the closed vermilion door in front of him.
Until noon.
The scribe's trembling body began to shake and almost fell.
The vermilion door finally opened a crack.
A man wearing luxurious furs and looking like a manager walked out of the door.
As if he had just seen the scribe, he said in surprise: "Oh, sir, why are you still here?"
"Mr. Huandao has gone back! Please come in quickly. Please come in quickly."
The middle-aged scribe opened his mouth, but found that his tongue was stiff from the cold and he could not even speak.
Seeing this, a trace of sarcasm flashed across the steward's face, and he called two servants to help him.
Two boy servants helped the scribe go inside, and soon a young man came in a hurry.
This young man has a dignified appearance, wearing a white fox fur without a trace of hair. He looks elegant and kind.
When he saw the scribe being supported by two boys, he looked surprised: "Mr. Yu, why do you look like this?"
The steward said: "Mr. Yu has been standing outside the door asking for an audience."
The young man was surprised: "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
As he spoke, he bowed to the scribe very humbly and said, "This is Zhan's fault."
After pretending to scold the steward, without waiting for the middle-aged scribe's reaction, he hurriedly ordered his servants to prepare the brazier.
Servants shuttled between the halls, and soon there were two burning charcoal pots and some dried fruit hot paste in front of the middle-aged man sitting at the table.
"Mr. Yu, please taste it. This is a specialty of Linyu. It is extremely fresh and has a unique flavor."
The young man pointed at the steaming lacquer lamp in front of him.
The middle-aged scribe, who was called Mr. Yu, also relaxed a little at this time and lowered his head to look at the soup cup in front of him.
In the black base paint cup, there are some small diamond-shaped pieces sinking into the ground.
As the heat rises, you can smell a strange fragrance.
Mr. Yu was not affected by the fresh fragrance at all. After he stopped shaking for a moment, he took out a piece of paper from his arms.
It is stamped with the bright red seal of the prefect.
"I was ordered by the prefect to come to Linyu to supervise the census of the population and the compilation of households, but I don't know Lord Jiang..."
Mr. Yu was interrupted before he finished speaking.
"My father is seriously ill and is unable to get up to handle government affairs. Please forgive me, sir."
In response to his excuse, Mr. Yu's jaw clenched and unclenched in an instant, and he continued: "Then this year's taxes..."
The question was interrupted again.
"Hasn't the matter of taxation already been sent to Lingzhi? What else should we do?"
As he spoke, the young man had a look of obvious displeasure on his face.
"On the coast of Linyu, there is frequent trade with the Central Plains. How can there be only that little bit? The governor's office has issued an order to conduct an inventory of commercial taxes. Could it be that the eldest son wants to resist the taxes?"
Mr. Yu's questioning obviously made the eldest son of the Jiang family very unhappy.
His face instantly darkened: "Mr. Yu, Xuan has never been an official and knows nothing about government affairs. Sir, you should wait until my father gets better."
After saying that, he stood up directly: "Send off guests."
Following his order, Mr. Yu was actually forced out of the door by several healthy servants.
The door slammed shut.
Mr. Yu stood there in embarrassment for a long time, then he stamped his feet angrily and walked away in full view of everyone.
Linyu City is rich and has a large city, which is not bad compared to Lingzhi.
The roads between the streets are spacious, and although there are still occasionally frozen corpses lying on the street corners, it is considered a peaceful place in these troubled times.
Mr. Yu walked quickly and walked for a long time before returning to the inn.
The inn was deserted, and the servants in the inn looked at him coldly as he entered the room.
As soon as he entered the room, Mr. Yu had a thick cloak draped over his shoulders.
A middle-aged man with a resolute face hurriedly kicked a brazier to Mr. Yu's feet and said, "Why are you so serious? You don't even have two followers."
"Aren't you afraid that the Jiang family will block you?"
Mr. Yu, who looked determined and humiliated before, now completely changed his appearance.
He squatted directly in front of the brazier to warm himself up and spat hard.
He whispered: "Damn it, the Jiang family, take a bowl of seaweed soup, you are so ignorant."
That kind of broken kelp soup, they almost vomited after eating it in Lulongdun!
These country bumpkins treat them as rare items and show them off to others.
Mr. Yu's appearance now has nothing to do with him half an hour ago.
He was rubbing his hands by the brazier and sniffing his nose.
"Send a message back. This bastard's family has connections with Yuan Tan of Qingzhou." "There are ships from Qingzhou at the port. After inquiring, we found out that they are Yuan's ships and are transporting a batch of salt."
"Please ask the superiors to make plans in advance."
After listening to his words, the middle-aged man nodded and went to rummage through his luggage.
Finally, a few sleepy pigeons were taken out from a hidden pigeon cage.
After writing the secret message, put it in the anklet.
Secretly release the doves from the window.
The middle-aged man turned around and asked, "Are you still going tomorrow?"
Mr. Yu blew his nose and said, "Go! Do the show to the end."
Now that he has appeared in such a weak and helpless manner, he will persist for a few more days.
He wanted to see how tough the Linyu Jiang family was and whether it could be tough to the end.
The white wings of the dove flew through the cotton-like flying snow.
Flying all the way to the northeast.
Finally landed in a courtyard.
He cooed and buried his head under his wings.
A pair of big hands picked up the little guy, took off the anklets, put it into a warm nest, and prepared water and feed.
The small note untied from its anklet was copied down by the clerk in the courtyard.
After being sent to a special place for deciphering, it was ironed and sealed with mud.
After passing it several times, it was handed over to a pair of fair hands.
The oil and wax used to seal the seal fell off as soon as it was touched, and the secret letter unfolded.
Gongsun Yan looked at it and couldn't help but sneer.
It is not surprising that Linyu and Yuan Tan colluded, but she would be confused if they were innocent.
Just resisting taxes? Disobeying discipline?
The coldness on her face grew stronger.
Paying taxes is a fee for protecting your rights!
If you are disobedient and unwilling to pay protection fees, a lucky result will definitely lead to misfortune.
Gongsun Yan is very sure of this.
Especially Linyu!
Her anger, which she had suppressed so easily in the past few days, suddenly rose up.
Zhang Zhang glanced at her carefully and took a small step back cautiously.
When Lady Yan looks like this, she is probably going to be cruel.
This lady has only been normal for a few days, and I don't know what Linyu did to offend her.
"Anyuan! Send the message and gather the generals!"
"Ah?" Zhang Zhang was stunned for a moment, then solemnly said: "Yes!"
Several homing pigeons were released and flew towards their nests in the distance.
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While I was typing the skewers, I was still a little short of 2,000 words. I just made up the whole thing with a few nonsense words (?￣???￣??)
Baozi said earlier that thirty acres is too much. In the Han Dynasty, the calculation was based on small acres.
In Jiuzhang's arithmetic, one acre is about 240 square steps, which is about 440 square meters!
According to the Taikang Daily Notes, the emperor rewarded wine with five liters each of rice and one pound each of pigs and sheep, which were regarded as the upper limit of normal people's diet. Zhuge Liang was seriously ill and ate three or four liters a day as the lower limit.
To make a compromise, according to the yield per mu at that time, each person had five to six acres of land, just enough to avoid starvation.
So I chose a number like thirty, which is attractive but not too excessive.