Chapter Seven: The Power of Industry
The Fuzhou Tax Office, located east of the Fuzhou Prefectural Government Office, with its gray walls and tiles, and the weathered eaves revealing the marks of time, was a fundamental link in the imperial power structure. It continuously drained the blood and sweat of the empire's grassroots, thus supporting the normal operation of the Great Xia regime.
Lin Yongqian entered the tax office and announced his arrival at the office of the salt tax officer. Officer Yan smiled when he saw Lin Yongqian. Although Lin Yongqian was not very old, his style of doing things was already quite smooth and experienced, and he had never missed out on any benefits.
"Brother Lin, you've arrived a few months early this year! What's up? Got some other business to do? Just stopped by to visit your brother's place? Don't leave tonight, it's my treat at Yuelai Restaurant, let's have a good get-together. Ah, you high-ranking officials are all alone overseas, you've come to Fuzhou, you should have a good time." He finished with a lewd smile that every man understands.
"I can't be happier! Steward Yan, we're going to the north this year for a rotation to guard the border and we'll be fighting the orcs. We're desperately short of weapons and horses. My family is pressuring me so much that I'm practically tearing the roof off. I have no mood to go to Yuelai Tower." Lin Yongqian skillfully used polite words, clearly indicating that he and Steward Yan had a thing going on.
"I'm here to pay the salt tax. Let's follow the rules, but this time we need to be quick. After paying the tax, I need to go to Hangzhou Prefecture to exchange the salt for fine iron weapons. As for warhorses, I don't know where to find them yet!"
"Hiss! It's only March, and you've already collected your salt tax? That's ten thousand dan!" Manager Yan was shocked. In previous years, high-ranking officials would not finish paying their salt tax until June. Now, hearing Lin Yongqian's words, not only had they collected ten thousand dan of salt tax, but they also had a surplus to exchange for fine iron and horses. How could he not be surprised?
"Oh dear, Brother Yan, you have no idea. The higher-ups want us to gather 10,000 men to fight in the north. But the officials don't even have enough weapons for 3,000 men. Now we're all working together, young and old, to boil salt. We're even using earthenware pots!" Lin Yongqian began to complain. Boiling salt in earthenware pots is such a waste of firewood; you can't even boil a few pounds of salt.
Manager Yan got up, went outside to take a look, then closed the door and sat down again. "Brother Lin, how much salt do you have? I do have some connections. I wouldn't dare exchange it for refined iron, but I'll only do cash transactions. What do you think?"
Lin Yongqian cursed Manager Yan in his heart for his greed. He knew Manager Yan must be colluding with other salt merchants; it would be strange if someone in charge of salt tax didn't have connections. However, if he went through him to trade with the salt merchants, the salt price certainly wouldn't be much higher. After all, the price of official salt wasn't high; it was just that they were reluctant to sell it. There were only a few places in the city selling official salt, and it only cost fifty coins per pound, but whether you could buy it or not was another matter.
"Then I'll have to trouble Steward Yan, but you must be quick. Our young master wants me to sell 20,000 dan of sea salt within a month, otherwise, Brother Yan won't be able to see his younger brother anymore, and he'll just make me cook salt!" Lin Yongqian said, cursing while praising. "The young master was right after all. The officials paid their taxes ahead of schedule this time, which is unusual. If we don't give them some benefits, we won't be able to pay the salt tax properly."
"Brother Lin, what are you saying? It's just my duty. Come on, let me take you to check the sea salt and issue the tax invoices." When Steward Yan heard Lin Yongqian agree, he was overjoyed and immediately went with Lin Yongqian to complete the tax procedures.
Lin Yongqian was busy until dinner time before he finally left the tax office. He declined the warm hospitality offered by Steward Yan and returned to the inn where he was staying. He immediately summoned a trusted confidant.
"Take your tax stamps and set off for Dayuan immediately. Your family is waiting for them to be sent to Hangzhou! Be careful on the journey, don't delay." Only with tax stamps will the major salt merchants of Daxia dare to do business with you; otherwise, it's considered smuggling. Dayuan's current sea salt production is considerable, so you can only trade with major salt merchants. If you go through smugglers, it would take forever to sell your salt.
The bay that Li Ziming chose was given a resounding name by Uncle Lin and his group—Silver Bay. In their words, the piled-up sea salt was as dazzling and intoxicating as silver.
The entire bay is now bustling with people. Uncle Lin has chosen reliable people to work hard to build salt fields. He plans to build several hundred salt fields, otherwise he would feel sorry for Qin Mo. This is Qin Mo using her own heritage to benefit everyone!
“Xi’er, have you seen the young master these past few days? He used to come over often, but he hasn’t come these past few days. I’m not at ease. He needs to come over and keep an eye on things. What if there’s a slight mistake in the repair and the salt production is too low?”
"Father, these young masters are either fighting with Allen or with Seaman. I wonder what they're doing." The speaker was a girl in a long dress, about fourteen or fifteen years old. She looked thin and frail, with a baby face and skin as smooth as jade, like fine porcelain, radiating a soft glow from the inside out.
This is Lin Huaiyuan's daughter, Lin Ruoxi, who was born after they arrived in Dayuan. From a young age, she possessed an extraordinary beauty; it's said that her maternal grandmother, Lin Huaiyuan's stepmother-in-law, was a half-elf. It's also said that Lin Huaiyuan's decision to abandon his wealth and follow Qin Lan to Dayuan was influenced by his beautiful wife.
"Alright, Xi'er, go and have your mother prepare some food and send it to the young master. That Ximan is a fool; besides cooking, he doesn't know how to take care of anyone. I bet the two of them are still hungry!" Elves don't like to get too close to people, but Xi'er has some elven blood, so she gets along fairly well with them.
Qin Mo and Ximan hadn't eaten; they were diligently working on a machine. Ximan and Xirui were cousins, both green elves, skilled in support skills and magic. Xirui practiced healing magic, while Ximan practiced alchemy.
When Qin Mo first asked Seaman to lead the construction of a water-powered forging hammer, Seaman flew into a rage upon seeing the blueprints, believing that having him build such a crude and aesthetically unappealing machine was an insult to his status as an elven alchemist. Even an elf's shovel for digging holes was intricately patterned.
"There are many kinds of beauty. Intricate and elegant patterns are one kind of beauty, and natural and flamboyant patterns are another. But is rugged and wild not beautiful? As a future master alchemist, Ximan, you must try all kinds of things. Only by walking all the paths can you find your own unique path..." Qin Mo gave Ximan a psychological development course, making him obediently work on her.
After a final inspection of the transmission and friction components, Qin Mo gave the blacksmith an affirmative look, and the blacksmith opened the valve of the water channel. The rushing river water surged into the narrow channel, and the originally gentle flow became violent, like a wild beast thrashing the power impeller connected to the forging hammer.
The heavy forging hammer began to move slowly, gradually accelerating up and down until it emitted a deafening booming sound as the hammerhead, weighing hundreds of pounds, moved rapidly up and down. As a piece of fine iron was placed on the blacksmith's anvil, the old blacksmith began to control the forging hammer, hammering the iron piece stroke by stroke. The dull, resonant sound carried far, as if striking the hearts of the onlookers.
Seeing the rapidly deforming iron, everyone's mouths formed an "O" shape once again, unable to close.
Qin Mo sighed inwardly, "This... is the power of industry."
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