Great Song Dynasty Writer

Chapter 168 The situation is tense
This is not just unfair distribution, but also naked exploitation and indifference throughout the entire production chain. It is the despair and resentment that permeates the air like brine steam and cannot be dispelled at any time!
Supervisor Liang stepped forward and said to Fan Xiang in a low voice, "Vice Envoy Fan, the supervisor and several local tribal leaders are already waiting in the government office."

Fan Xiang withdrew his gaze, which seemed to pierce through everything, and a decision appeared to have been made in his deep eyes.

He nodded slightly, his voice calm and expressionless, revealing no emotion whatsoever: "Yes, let's go."

He glanced sideways at Lu Beigu beside him, whose face was pale but whose eyes were fixed on the salt-boiling area below, and added, "Let this student Lu listen as well."

Lu Beigu took a deep breath of the scorching air, which was mixed with thick smoke, salty smell, and sulfur, and felt as if his throat was being rubbed with sandpaper.

He didn't say anything, but silently and closely followed behind Fan Xiang.

He knew that the official residence he was about to enter was the true core of the power struggle within this vortex of salt profits.

Upon entering the main hall of the official residence, a pungent aroma wafted over, barely suppressing the pervasive salty and fishy smell of the brine outside.

The interior furnishings were simple, even somewhat shabby. In the center was a well-worn desk, with the main seat empty behind it, while several people were already seated on the left and right sides.

The first person on the left was a civil official with a fair complexion, wearing a green official robe, who appeared to be around forty years old. He stood up first and bowed.

"I am Wang Kui, the supervisor of Yujing, and I have met with Lord Fan."

Behind him stood two middle-aged men in official robes, presumably the supervisor and registrar of the Yujing Bureau.

In the Song Dynasty, "supervisors," especially frontier salt supervisors like the Yujing Supervisor, were responsible not only for managing the main salt production business but also for overseeing military and civilian affairs within their jurisdiction. Wang Kui's position as "supervisor of the Yujing Supervisor" was roughly equivalent to that of a county magistrate, so the supervisors were uniformly equipped with an administrative team similar to that of a county.

On the right side, three men stood up, their clothing distinctly different from that of the Han people.

The leader was about fifty years old, short and stocky, with dark and rough skin. He wore an indigo linen robe, with a wide leather belt inlaid with several dull copper pieces around his waist. A thick cloth was wrapped around his head, and a few strands of gray hair were visible at his temples.

He was Amutu, the headman of the local Liao people.

Behind him were two younger Liao men dressed in simpler short tunics, barefoot, with equally dark skin, their eyes scanning the group of people entering with a wary gaze, exuding the wildness unique to mountain dwellers.

When their gaze swept over Lu Beigu, this unfamiliar young student, a hint of surprise flashed in their eyes, but it was quickly concealed.

At Wang Kui's signal, Amutu also bowed to Fan Xiang in the same manner as the Han people.

"Everyone, take a seat."

Fan Xiang took good care of Lu Beigu, not letting him stand, but instead pointing out and arranging for him to sit in the last chair on the left, near the door.

Fan Xiang then sat down in the main seat, while Liang Dujian stood half a step behind him with his hand on his sword, like a silent iron tower. The iron armor on his body gleamed coldly in the dimly lit hall, silently proclaiming his military might.

"Wang Kui." Fan Xiang cut to the chase without any pleasantries. "I have been ordered to oversee the salt administration in Sichuan and Shaanxi. I have come to Yujing Salt Bureau to see for myself what this crucial place, which is responsible for the imperial salt tax, is really like. As the head of Yujing Salt Bureau, you are in charge of the salt administration in this region. How much salt is collected in Yujing Salt Bureau now? How many salt workers are there? How many households are there? Is everything stable lately?" Wang Kui was clearly prepared. He picked up the dozen or so booklets that had been prepared beside him and presented them to him with great effort.

"Reporting to Lord Fan, the Yujing Saltworks currently has thirty-seven salt wells, including nine large wells, sixteen medium-sized wells, and twelve small wells. There are over 1,600 registered salt workers, and their families number over 7,000. There are also over 3,000 households registered and managed in the mountains and forests near the well sites."

These terms all have their own special meanings. "Zao Ding" refers to the male workers who actually work in the salt wells. "Yan Hu" is the statistical name of the households formed based on the "Zao Ding". As for "Liao Hu", it refers to the registered officials who are already registered as citizens. Many of these people do not directly work in the salt fields, but no matter what they do, they are all uniformly classified under the Yujingjian administrative unit.

He began to rattle off a series of figures, from brine concentration, daily brine extraction, salt formation rate, and monthly tax quota, to firewood consumption, military rations, and even the reinforcement of several stockade walls to prevent the Liao people from causing trouble. He was extremely familiar with official business, as if he had everything under control.

Throughout his speech, Wang Kui repeatedly emphasized that the salt tax, "though difficult, was still able to be paid in full," and that the Liao people, "having been influenced by the king, were gradually learning etiquette and law, and had recently become quite well-behaved." He also subtly mentioned that "only the Liao people from the mountains occasionally gathered in groups to rob firewood and salt packages, but thanks to the deterrence of the military, the salt route was kept open and there was no danger within the prison."

As Lu Beigu listened to these dry numbers and whitewashing words, images of the hellish salt-making scene outside kept flashing through his mind: the hunched figures in the thick smoke, and the children picking up salt grains.

Fan Xiang listened quietly, his face expressionless, only occasionally glancing at Wang Kui when he mentioned certain key figures.

When Wang Kui mentioned "the Liao people are content with their lot," Fan Xiang's gaze drifted almost imperceptibly to Amutu on his right.

Amutu remained seated, his calloused hands resting flat on his knees, eyes downcast, seemingly oblivious to the "well-behaved" Liao people Wang Kui spoke of, as if they had nothing to do with him.

Only one young Liao man behind him, upon hearing "live Liao plundering," seemed to subtly purse his lips, revealing a hint of contempt.

"The salt tax is fully paid? Hmm, that sounds good."

After Wang Kui finished his report, Fan Xiang responded with a faint, indifferent sound, revealing neither joy nor anger.

"As I traveled along the way, I saw that seven or eight out of ten salt-boiling workers had pale faces and were poorly clothed. Children were picking up salt grains from the mud to fill their stomachs. What do you, Supervisor Wang, think of this scene?"

Wang Kui's smile froze for a moment, then a perfectly timed look of helplessness appeared on his face. He then said with a pained expression, "Lord Fan, please understand! This is due to the barrenness of the mountainous area and the difficulty of making a living! Everyone knows how hard the salt workers work, but the salt tax of the imperial court is a major national policy and cannot be neglected. I have also repeatedly written to the prefectural government, earnestly requesting that some money and grain be allocated to the salt workers, but alas, it is just a drop in the ocean. Moreover, the salt workers are of a rough and uncouth nature and are not good at saving money, so it is only natural that they occasionally encounter difficulties."

"Incapable of saving?" The usually silent Supervisor Liang suddenly sneered, his voice low but piercing the silence of the hall like a knife. "Supervisor Wang, you make it sound so easy. My soldiers are often embezzled and owed wages, let alone these kitchen workers! The Han merchants drive down the price of salt at every level, and the supervisory office uses all sorts of tricks to extract grain, rice, and firewood. You chieftains then skin them dry! What they end up with is barely enough to lick a few grains of salt! Are all those who come out to plunder just laborers? I doubt it. If they can't survive, why not risk their lives to rob, or wait to starve to death in the mountains?"

Supervisor Liang's words were rough and straightforward, without any embellishment.

Wang Kui's face turned deathly pale, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his lips moved as if he wanted to explain: "Supervisor Liang, how could you..."

The young Liao man behind Amutu suddenly raised his head, a flash of anger in his eyes.

The atmosphere inside the main hall of the official residence instantly became tense and confrontational.

(End of this chapter)