I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 483 The Stubbornness of Farmers

At dawn, Edric, with his fingers as rough as old tree bark, repeatedly stroked the few copper coins on the table, warm from being soaked in sweat. These were the last decent coins the village had.

Outside the window, the sky was overcast, just like his mood at that moment.

"Dad, it's all installed."

The eldest son, Owen, pushed open the door and brought in the distinctive smells of hay and livestock from the countryside.

"Two carts of oats, one cart of potatoes, and the few baskets of eggs that Aunt Anna had saved up... all bundled up tightly."

Edric grunted in agreement, stood up, and his hunched back creaked slightly.

He is the village head of Jianshantou Village and also the oldest person in the village.

Going to the market in Korzovo, more than 20 kilometers away, to exchange for salt, matches, kerosene, and a meager amount of sugar and cloth was the most important event in the village every quarter, and it was also a responsibility that he, as the village chief, had to personally lead.

"Let's go, don't let the sun chase us."

His voice was hoarse as he picked up the smooth oak stick leaning against the wall. The road wasn't entirely safe; wolves, snakes, and desperately poor farmers were all threats.

Soon, following the first rays of sunlight on the horizon, the convoy creaked and groaned onto the road.

An old man pulls one cart, while Owen and another young man pull another, with women following behind, carrying baskets of eggs and walking unsteadily.

Edric had walked this road his whole life; he could count every birch tree and every pothole along it with his eyes closed.

The fields were silent, save for the sounds of wheels and footsteps, just as they had been decades ago.

The convoy creaked and groaned as it approached the town of Korzovo. Edrik, as was his habit, slowed the procession down, preparing to be subjected to the exploitation and scrutiny of the town's tax collectors.

This is the custom, passed down from generation to generation. Tax collectors do not receive a salary; their only income comes from the tributes given by farmers and merchants who want to shop in town.

Therefore, the farmers in the town called it a difficult hurdle.

However, as the convoy approached the town, the stern-faced man Edric had anticipated, demanding a bribe, did not appear.

The town entrance was bustling with activity, with more than double the number of people compared to this time of year. The once open space was now densely packed with stalls and crowds, and the sounds of hawking, laughter, and conversation blended into a noisy ocean that almost overturned the early morning sky.

Many stalls even displayed brand-new blue and white flags embroidered with a strange double-headed eagle... This is not the coat of arms of the Miniscia royal family!
Edric and the villagers were all stunned, standing blankly on the edge of the commotion, like a group of groundhogs who had stumbled into a grand feast.

"What...what's going on?"

Irving stared wide-eyed at the overly lively, even festive scene before him, completely bewildered.

"How did the market get so big? And where are all those stray dogs...?"

"Shut up, you can't say that word here!"

After stopping his eldest son from speaking recklessly, Edric frowned, his cloudy old eyes straining to make out everything he saw.

He saw that people's faces no longer held the sorrow and numbness of the past, but instead radiated an excitement and ease that he could not understand.

He even heard people talking and laughing loudly, their words interspersed with unfamiliar terms like "His Majesty Chris," "Bagnia," and "New Life."

"Boss."

Edric turned to his son and gave him instructions.

"You and the others go to the usual spot. I want to ask what happened here."

Irving nodded.

Edric parked the convoy under an old elm tree at the edge of town, told Owen to keep an eye on the goods, and then, leaning on his oak cane, took a deep breath and headed toward the unsettlingly noisy market.

His cloudy eyes scanned his surroundings warily, and the black and gold double-headed eagle banners made his heart tighten... Whose banners were these?

The arrival of nobles in town is not a good thing.

They come here either to increase taxes or to conscript men to serve in their army.

Edric stood in the crowd next to a kind-looking old man who was selecting pottery jars at a stall, bowed slightly humbly, and asked in a heavily accented dialect.

"Excuse me, sir, what's going on in this town? These flags... and where's the town entrance...?"

He paused, too embarrassed to say "tax collector" or "wild dog" directly, and just gestured vaguely.

"...Where is the person who collected the money?"

The old man looked up and saw Edric's dusty old clothes and bewildered expression, and suddenly realized what was going on.

"Oh, you didn't know..."

The old man smiled, with the enthusiasm of someone sharing good news.

"Things have changed, brother, huge changes! This place is no longer under the jurisdiction of the old masters!"

Edric's heart skipped a beat.

The old man lowered his voice, but his tone remained excited.

"Our current king is His Majesty Chris. Minicia and Bagnia have been united into one country, both under the rule of the great His Majesty Chris!"

Minicia...gone? Merged with Bagnia? Your Majesty Chris?

One unfamiliar word after another bombarded Edric's mind, making him dizzy.

He has lived for over sixty years, and the sky above him has always been the sky of Minicia, and the land beneath his feet has always been the land of Minicia. How could this change so suddenly?
"Then...then...what about His Majesty Albert?"

Edric's tongue was a little tied.

“Hey buddy, your news is way out of date… His Majesty Albert III is gone, his son His Majesty Charles has taken over, and now His Majesty Chris is in charge of us.”

"So, how much tax does His Majesty Chris collect now?"

This was the question he cared about most, and the only question he dared to ask aloud.

"Tax?"

The old man laughed and waved his hand.

"It's different now. His Majesty Chris is merciful. Many of those messy taxes from before have been waived!"

Especially you farmers, I heard the agricultural tax has been waived, and those stray dogs at the town entrance…”

The old man uttered the word without any hesitation, eliciting knowing smiles from the people around him.

"...They were driven away by the new tax collector and mayor long ago. Now you can enter the town freely and do business easily, as long as you abide by the new laws."

Agricultural tax has been waived? People can freely enter the town?
Edric felt like he was listening to a fairy tale. He stood there, mouth agape, speechless for a long time.

The news was so shocking that he couldn't immediately tell whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Seeing his expression, the old man patted him on the shoulder understandingly.

"I was a little confused at first, but I'll get used to it. The new king is a wise ruler, and life will definitely be better than before. Let's go to the market and take a look; there are plenty of things, and the prices are fair!"

Edric mumbled his thanks, then, leaning on his cane, walked back with unsteady steps.

The enormous, unbelievable news shattered his preconceived notions. He returned to the convoy, where villagers immediately surrounded him, bombarding him with questions.

"Village chief, have you found out what happened?" "What exactly happened?"

Edric looked at the anxious and confused eyes, scratched his head, feeling somewhat bewildered, and could only speak about what he could understand.

"...The current king is His Majesty Chris...He seems to be a good man; he doesn't collect agricultural taxes, and the stray dogs at the town entrance have been driven away."

The villagers of Jianshantou Village looked at each other in bewilderment.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't quite understand... no more taxes?"

"The stray dogs are gone?"

The villagers started discussing it, and as they talked, they became somewhat uneasy. Owen was the first to react and hurriedly asked them questions.

"What about taxes? Dad, if we don't pay taxes, won't some lord on horseback come to our village, set fires, and loot things? The neighboring village didn't pay taxes either, and then they all died. If we don't pay taxes..."

Upon hearing his son's words, Edric also felt uneasy.

Yes, the lord has stopped collecting taxes. Is there really such a good thing happening?

Anxiety, like cold vines, coiled around Edric's heart.

Irving's words were like a hammer, shattering the fleeting, illusory joy that had just begun to rise within him.

Yes, how could a king not pay taxes? How could the lords give up the prize that was already in their mouths? This must be some kind of trap they can't understand, or worse... a harbinger of war and destruction.

The scene of blood flowing like a river in the neighboring village seemed to reappear before my eyes.

"go!"

Edric's voice was dry and heavy as he waved the oak stick in his hand.

"Go to the town hall. We must pay every single penny of the taxes we owe. We can't give those lords an excuse to resort to violence!"

The villagers' bewilderment was immediately replaced by fear. They nodded and silently pulled the convoy along, following Edric, familiarly heading towards the stone building that symbolized power and oppression, where they had to hand over their hard-earned money every quarter... the mayor's mansion, or rather, the former mayor's mansion.

The closer he got, the tighter Edric's heart clenched.

The mansion appeared to have been renovated, with a brand-new wooden plaque hanging at the entrance, but he didn't bother to look closely, nor could he understand it... Edric was illiterate.

He took a deep breath, as if walking towards an execution ground, and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

The arrogant and mean face of the mayor's butler that I had expected did not appear.

Several tables and chairs were set up in the lobby, and two young men in clean uniforms, who looked like clerks, were sitting in the back writing something.

Seeing this group of nervous, rustic farmers enter, one of the young men looked up and asked in a calm tone.

"Fellow villager, what's the matter?"

Edric bent down with difficulty and spoke in the most humble tone, almost habitually.

"Sir...we are from Jianshantou Village...we've come...to pay this year's agricultural tax and..."

He pointed to the grain on the cart outside the door, already prepared for being nitpicked, having it withheld, or even being extorted.

Upon hearing this, the young clerk exchanged a glance with his colleague next to him, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Grandpa, haven't you heard yet?"

The clerk put down his pen and patiently explained.

"His Majesty Chris issued a new decree after ascending the throne, permanently abolishing agricultural taxes nationwide. From now on, the harvest from your own land belongs to you, and you no longer need to pay grain taxes here!"

Upon hearing the word "cancel" again, Edric felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing his heart.

The old village chief's heart was racing not with joy, but with even greater fear. He nearly knelt down with a thud, his voice trembling with tears.

"Sir! Please have mercy! Please accept this tax... we can afford it, we're willing to pay it!"

"Please, Your Majesty, and the gentlemen, speak to us! We, the villagers of Jianshantou, are all law-abiding citizens. We pay our taxes on time and would never dare to be late! Please, Your Majesty, and the gentlemen, do not send troops..."

The villagers behind him echoed his sentiments, their faces filled with terror, as if if they didn't pay their taxes, cavalry would rush in to burn, kill, and loot at any moment.

The two young clerks were somewhat flustered by the commotion and quickly stood up, went around the table, and helped Edric.

"Grandpa, what are you doing! Get up!"

The clerk helped him up with all his might.

"I'm not lying to you, it's true. His Majesty's word is law, and the decree is posted on the bulletin board outside. There really is no more tax!"

Another document was quickly added as well.

"His Majesty said that everyone should be able to have enough to eat. From now on, as long as the farmers of our Kingdom of Bagnia are hardworking, they will all be able to live a good life!"

Edric was helped to stand up, his old eyes filled with confusion and disbelief, his lips trembling.

"Really...really? There's no such thing as a free lunch in the world..."

"Absolutely true!"

The document's tone was assertive, and to dispel the old man's doubts, he took out a thick booklet and several beautifully printed documents.

"Look, this is the newly promulgated Land Registration and Reclamation Order. Taxes have been waived, but in order to ensure that everyone's land is not seized by bad people, it is necessary to re-register and issue new land deeds."

Has your village elected a village head? Or are you the village head?

"The...village head?"

Edric was unfamiliar with the new word, and he shook his head blankly.

"I'm the village chief... Edric... registering the land title?"

"Correct!"

Seeing that the topic had finally been steered onto the right track, the clerk breathed a sigh of relief and explained enthusiastically.

"Village Chief Edric, you've come at the perfect time! As long as you represent Jianshantou Village and register the land and population information of each household here to receive the new land deeds, this land will rightfully belong to you. With His Majesty Chris backing you up, no one will dare to seize it by force!"

He pointed to the terms at the bottom of the document.

"Moreover, His Majesty is showing his grace! Every self-cultivating farmer who has completed land registration can receive a resettlement gift package free of charge upon presentation of their new land deed."

The clerk's voice was encouraging.

"A free supply of high-quality grain seeds, a brand-new iron plow, five hoes, three sickles, and two machetes! All made of good iron by the Kingdom's workshop, sturdy and durable!"

Free... ironware? Plowshare? Hoe?
Chris gave out seeds to promote the new varieties developed by the Agricultural Bureau, and gave out ironware to promote farm tools... If you don't give things to farmers for free, these poor people can't afford hoes.

Don't underestimate the poverty of farmers.

The villagers behind Edric gasped in astonishment. Ironware was a treasure they could only dream of, and the price of a single iron plow could equal several years' worth of their harvest!

Irving pushed his way forward, his eyes wide and his voice trembling as he asked.

"Sir, are you telling the truth? You really...you'll give me an iron plowshare? For free?"

"of course it's true!"

The clerk smiled and pointed towards the warehouse in the backyard.

"After registering and receiving the voucher, go directly to the warehouse to collect your supplies! They're all piled up there. His Majesty hopes that our Bagnia fields can be equipped with good farming tools, yielding more grain so that the kingdom can prosper!"

A tremendous, real temptation. Edric looked at the clerk's sincere face, listened to the villagers' excited, heavy breathing behind him, and recalled the bustling, prosperous scene at the town entrance, where no one was exploiting them...

He reached out his hand tremblingly, but just as he was about to take the land registration form that smelled of ink, he pulled it back.

"Um... sir, I can't read, and I don't have time... I'll go sell some things, and then I'll come back to register!"

With that, Edric turned and ran. The villagers behind him, though confused, followed him, completely trusting their village chief's actions.

The two clerks watched them leave but did not stop them. One of them disappointedly took back the register. They looked at each other and sighed.

"Oh, it ran away again..."

"Didn't the instructor say during your training course at the Ministry of Agriculture? What we're doing is a long-term project; we need to stick with it for several years..."

"By the way, where is Jianshantou Village?"

"I don't know, they should be nearby. I'll ask the guide to check it out later, and we'll go to their place in person to persuade them... Sigh, it's clearly a good thing, why do they always refuse to believe it?"

Peasants naturally harbor suspicion towards the high and mighty lords and fear of external changes, because any peasant who did not act this way was already dead.

The extent to which feudal lords were despicable was far beyond the imagination of modern humans.

(End of this chapter)