As early as the Han and Tang Dynasties, Xixi had traces of human activities. From the Five Dynasties to the Song Dynasty, Xixi became an important town in the salt industry.
Most of the people living here rely on the salt industry for their livelihood.
Xixi Town is not large, with only a thousand households. At the turn of spring and summer, you can see the thick smoke rising from the town when you stand more than ten miles away.
Although Xixi produces sea salt, unlike the sun-dried salt method of later generations, fried salt is still the main method today.
That is, it is first exposed to the sun to become brine, and then fried to become salt.
The life of a salt householder is actually very hard. Whether it is drying the food or frying salt by burning firewood, it is all strenuous work.
The only thing worth comforting is probably not having to worry about eating salt.
This day happened to be the day for frying salt, and there was a lot of smoke around Xixi Town. When the southeast wind blew, the town also smelled of smoke.
In a small courtyard in the town, Fan Zhongyan was holding a copy of "The Analects of Confucius" and reading it carefully.
The words of the sage are of subtle meaning. Even though he has been familiar with this book for a long time, he has a different understanding every time he rereads it.
It is new every day, new every day, and new every day, nothing more than this.
While reading, Fan Zhongyan suddenly heard a familiar laughter coming from outside the hospital.
"Ha ha."
"Xiwen, Xiwen, open the door quickly!"
Zhang Lun is Fan Zhongyan's boss, so this voice is naturally familiar to him.
Immediately, he put down his book, walked to the door quickly, and quickly opened the courtyard door.
"Your Majesty, why are you here today?"
Fan Zhongyan and Zhang Lun were very familiar with each other. When they met, some unnecessary customs were naturally avoided, so he just invited Zhang Lun into the house with a pretentious introduction.
(Shijun is another name for a prefect and a governor. In the Song Dynasty, it was generally used to refer to officials who knew a state or a certain military)
"Ha ha."
Zhang Lun smiled heartily: "Xiwen, I'm here to tell you the good news today."
Annunciation?
Where does this joy come from?
Fan Zhongyan didn't know what was going on. He thought about it carefully, but he didn't expect any happy events.
He is just a small salt tax collector, and nothing major has happened under his rule recently, so how can he be happy?
Seeing Fan Zhongyan's confused look, Zhang Lun smiled, then stretched out his hand, and the servant following him immediately handed a jute edict into his hand.
Immediately afterwards, Zhang Lun handed the imperial edict into Fan Zhongyan's hands.
"Xiwen, see for yourself."
There are generally two types of bookmaking in the Song Dynasty. One is written on white linen paper and drafted by the Academy of Sciences, which is called internal production, also known as white linen.
The other type was drafted by Sherenyuan under Zhongshu, using jute paper, and was called foreign-made, also called jute.
Fan Zhongyan opened the imperial edict and took a look, then he was stunned.
Such a reaction made Zhang Lun, who had been observing him, a little disappointed.
The script is wrong!
Shouldn't Xiwen be happy?
Although water control is a hard job, Xiwen's hometown is in Suzhou, and with Xiwen's talents, it should not be difficult to handle this task well.
With his ability to control floods, the imperial court was sure to see Xiwen's talent. From then on, Xiwen's official career was not only smooth, but also stronger than before.
At least it's no longer unknown.
Zhang Lun highly praised Fan Zhongyan's talents, not to mention his literary accomplishments. He cited people like Xi Wen, who spoke volumes and eloquently about him.
What surprised him even more was Fan Zhongyan's ability to do things.
Since Fan Zhongyan took office, the salt tax in Xixi Town has increased by nearly one-third.
The most commendable thing is that the increase in salt tax was not obtained at the expense of oppressing salt people.
Zhang Lun had started his business in the salt industry before, so he naturally knew how difficult it was.
When he was alone, he would often think that if the people under his command were as capable as Xiwen, why worry about the Song Dynasty not being prosperous?
In fact, Zhang Lun also knows his own shortcomings. In terms of merit, he is no worse than others, the only difference lies in his background.
He is not from the Jinshi Department.
But Xiwen is different. Xiwen is a serious Jinshi. He was sent to Taizhou to be a tax supervisor, not because of lack of ability or talent.
Simply because there is no background and there is no one in the court.
Otherwise, how could Xiwen waste his time in Xixi?
"Xiwen, why don't you see a smile on your face?"
After a while, Zhang Lun asked directly.
"Your Majesty."
Fan Zhongyan bowed his head and saluted: "Thank you very much for your recommendation!"
"Don't!"
Seeing this, Zhang Lun quickly stepped aside and then bowed to the north.
"Xiwen, I don't dare to take credit for this matter. The person who recommended you was not me, but the officials."
Zhang Lun and Wang Zeng were old acquaintances. Although they did not meet many times, they were somewhat related.
Long before Zhongshu's imperial edict arrived, Wang Zeng's letter arrived first.
In the letter, Wang Zeng briefly described the situation that day. At the end of the letter, Wang Zeng also mentioned Fan Zhongyan in passing.
Why did officials mention a salt tax collector? Wang Zeng also felt strange about this.
"Official family?"
Hearing this, Fan Zhongyan became even more puzzled.
Guan Jia is only thirteen years old this year, right?
He was a Jinshi in the eighth year of Dazhong Xiangfu examination. At that time, Guan Jia was still a five- or six-year-old boy.
In addition, after he became emperor, he was sent to the capital for more than seven years.
Logically speaking, officials should not know about him.
Where did the officials hear his name?
"Xiwen, you don't know it yourself?"
Seeing Fan Zhongyan's expression, Zhang Lun was also stunned.
Originally, he thought it was one of Fan Zhongyan's friends in the capital who was behind the attack, but now it seems that Fan Zhongyan himself was also involved.
"Your Majesty, I... how can I have such a relationship?"
Fan Zhongyan spread his hands and said with a wry smile.
It seems that he doesn't even have the power to select people like him to submit papers to the officials. How could the officials notice such a little shrimp?
In addition, Fan Zhongyan thought about it carefully and found that among the friends he knew, there was no such person with such extraordinary hands and eyes.
"This is really a strange thing."
Zhang Lun shook his head, then his expression changed, he smiled and patted Fan Zhongyan's arm.
"Since you can't figure it out, then don't think about it. Anyway, this is a good thing,"
"Suzhou is your hometown. Going here can be considered as revisiting the old place, and at the same time, you can also contribute a little bit to your hometown."
Fan Zhongyan was not the kind of hypocritical person and quickly accepted this fact.
"May I ask the envoy, when will you and I set off?"
"As soon as possible, no more than ten days at most."
Time turned to evening. With the help of his servant and Fan Zhongyan, Zhang Lun got on the bullock cart.
He was particularly happy today, so he drank a little too much, and he was already drunk at this time.
Before leaving, Zhang Lun held Fan Zhongyan's hand and spoke earnestly.
"Xiwen, the emperor's favor is so great. Going to Suzhou will be the beginning of your fame in the world. You must not let down the favor of the officials."
Fan Zhongyan took a deep breath and nodded solemnly.
"Please rest assured, Xiwen will definitely live up to Heaven's grace!"