So it turns out I'm the demon!

The carriage drove out of the north gate of Huzhou City and headed north along the official road.

It was afternoon, and the autumn sun was blazing.

On both sides of the official road are continuous rice paddies, the rice ears have turned yellow and undulate in the wind like golden waves.

In the distance, verdant mountains rise one after another; nearby, farmhouses are scattered about.

A scene of idyllic autumn countryside.

Shi Lang lifted a corner of the carriage curtain and pointed ahead, saying:

"Sir, twenty li ahead lies the territory of Lujia Village in Changshou Township, Dawen County. We'll head to the community granary first; the tax grain is temporarily stored there, managed by the village head and the granary clerk. Once we arrive, we'll first count the amount, then collect the arrears from the debtors according to the register..."

Shi Lang was already very familiar with this process and could explain it in great detail.

Jiang Mu hummed in agreement and turned her gaze to the window.

Farmers were working in the fields, bending over. When they saw the official carriage, they all straightened up and looked around with complicated expressions.

There is reverence, vigilance, and also numbness.

"How much is the demon-suppressing tax usually collected per household?" Jiang Mu suddenly asked.

Shi Lang hurriedly replied:

"Your Honor, the tax is calculated based on the acreage, at three liters of grain per acre. If the tenant farmer or poor household has no land, the tax is calculated based on the number of adult males, at one dou per adult male."

Jiang Mu silently calculated in his mind.

A mu (unit of land area) can produce only about two shi (unit of dry measure) of grain in a good year, and even less in an ordinary year.

The tax of three liters may not seem like much, but when you add the regular tax, miscellaneous levies, corvée labor compensation, fire loss... the burden on the people is really not light.

The carriage bumped along for a while longer before a gray, dusty village came into view ahead.

Earthen walls and thatched cottages, with sparse wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys.

The wheels rolled over the stone bridge at the village entrance and stopped in front of the community granary.

The so-called community granary was just a large warehouse surrounded by rammed earth, with a small earthen platform in front of it.

A gaunt old man was already waiting at the door. Upon seeing the carriage, he hurried over, followed by a middle-aged scholar carrying a book.

"This old man, Cheng Yuan, the head of Changshou Village, respectfully welcomes you, sir."

The old man bowed.

Shi Lang jumped out of the car first, pointed behind him and said, "This is Hall Master Jiang of the Eighth Hall of the Demon Slayer Division, who has come to collect the demon grain."

Upon hearing this, Cheng Yuan bowed even lower:

"Master Jiang's presence is an honor to our humble abode. Please come in for some tea and a rest."

Jiang Mu got out of the car and glanced at the community warehouse.

The earthen walls were peeling and crumbling, revealing the wheat straw inside, and a large, rusted padlock hung on the wooden door.

There were some burlap sacks scattered around the yard, indicating that not much had been collected.

Upon entering the simple side room next to the warehouse, Cheng Yuan hurriedly had tea served.

"Village Chief Cheng, let's skip the formalities. How's the demon food harvest going this year?"

Shi Lang picked up his teacup, skimmed off the foam, and asked the question directly.

A bitter smile appeared on Cheng Yuan's face:

"Reporting to the superior, we have collected more than 70%. However... there are still 30% of debtors, which is really difficult."

There was a minor flood this spring. Although it wasn't serious, it still flooded several low-lying areas, affecting the harvest.

With the autumn harvest yet to come, it's a time of scarcity, and some families genuinely have no surplus grain.

"Can't produce it?"

Shi Lang's face darkened, and he slammed his teacup on the table.

"The imperial taxes are no child's play! Bring me the register; let me see which troublemakers are resisting payment!"

Cangshu hurriedly presented a yellow book.

Shi Lang took the book, flipped through a few pages, and pointed to several names: "Yuan Laowu, Wang Genzi... these families owed money last year, and they dare to delay again this year?"

Cheng Yuan was extremely cautious:

"Shangguan, please calm down. The Yuan family lost their ox last year, and this spring's plowing is all done by hand, which is really difficult. That woman from the Wang family is raising three children all by herself..."

"Alright!"

Shi Lang raised his hand to interrupt, and coldly snorted:

"They're all just cunning and shrewish people. They always complain about their own troubles. If everyone acted like this, playing the victim and delaying payment, how could we possibly keep this job? We might as well quit and become their slaves!"

Having said that, he cupped his hands in a respectful gesture to Jiang Mu and said:

"Sir, what do you think...? Should we visit these key households first?"

"Um."

Jiang Mu was indeed unfamiliar with these procedures and intricacies, so he let the other party handle it for the time being.

As soon as the group stepped out of the side room, they saw four or five idle men squatting on the earthen platform. They were all dressed in shorts and looked like hooligans, laughing and talking about something.

Seeing Jiang Mu and the other person come out, they quickly got up.

A man with a pointed face and a monkey-like appearance, who was walking with his chest exposed, trotted forward, bowed, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and forced a fawning smile onto his face.

"This humble servant, Zhang Awu, greets the two gentlemen."

Shi Lang whispered to Jiang Mu:

"Sir, this man is called Zhang Awu. He's a figurehead in the yamen, and he usually runs errands for us. When it comes to collecting debts, they have some old tricks that are easier for them than for us officials."

The term "hanger-on" refers to a "white glove" or "temporary worker" who is attached to a government office.

These people had neither official positions nor salaries; they made a living by "doing things" for government officials and squeezing money out of the people. Their methods were often even more ruthless than those of regular government officials.

Besides Zhang Awu and his gang of hooligans, there was also a middle-aged man standing nearby wearing a blue robe and carrying an abacus.

Shi Lang further introduced:

"This is Accountant Zhao from 'Fortune Pawnshop'."

The latter quickly bowed to Jiang Mu.

Fearing that Jiang Mu might not understand, Shi Lang took the initiative to explain:

"If some households do not have grain on hand, they can be allowed to use valuables as collateral to borrow money from pawnshops to offset taxes."

For example, land deeds, house deeds, family heirlooms, etc... it's a way for us to do convenience for the people and leave them a way to make a living.

Jiang Mu frowned slightly but remained silent.

Zhang Awu stepped forward, his face full of flattery:

"Sir, please rest assured, we often help you go to the countryside to collect taxes, and we understand the temperament of these peasants best."

If you ask me, these scoundrels are like old clams on the riverbank; if you don't keep hitting them, how will they produce pearls?

You two esteemed guests can rest here for a bit, and I guarantee I'll collect everything that's due!

"Just follow up with normal collection methods."

Jiang Mu said calmly.

Zhang Awu paused for a moment and looked at Shi Lang.

Shi Lang tossed him the book of tax arrears, winked at him, and snapped, "Stop talking nonsense! Lead the way, let's start with these companies in the book!"

"Okay!"

Zhang Awu shouted and led a few ruffian brothers, storming into the village.

Chickens and dogs flew about in chaos, and geese and ducks scattered in alarm.

Along the way, Zhang Awu would occasionally linger near Jiang Mu. One minute he'd be talking about which woman in Lujia Village was the prettiest, the next he'd be discussing which grove had the most wild game, rambling on and on about this and that.

He had a keen eye and immediately recognized the extraordinary bearing of this young Lord Jiang, so he tried to curry favor with him.

As they chatted, Zhang Awu started talking about the situation in Yancheng next door.

"Things haven't been peaceful in Yancheng lately. I heard a bunch of peasants have rebelled. These people are crazy; they not only secretly worship demons in their homes, but they also plotted to kill two demon slayers a few days ago."

Zhang Awu spat a mouthful of phlegm on the ground and cursed.

"These lowly commoners are utterly ungrateful! Don't they realize that if it weren't for the valiant officials of the Demon Slayer Division risking their lives, they would have been snacks for the demons long ago? What's wrong with paying some grain? They actually dare to rebel! They're truly ungrateful wretches!"

Jiang Mu remained expressionless and did not respond.

His gaze swept across the roadside.

Occasionally, you can see a few thin, bony old people sitting at the base of the wall, their eyes numb.

Or perhaps they were children who were poorly clothed and emaciated.

Before long, the group stopped in front of a dilapidated courtyard.

Half of the earthen wall had collapsed and was haphazardly blocked with some tree branches. The two crooked wooden doors were tightly closed and hung with an old lock.

"Sir, this is the house, the head of the household is the fifth elder."

Zhang Awu pointed to the doorway,

"He's known in the village as a tough guy. Last year, he was a month late on paying the spring tax, and it was only after we brothers 'persuaded' him that we finally got it done."

Jiang Mu looked at the locked door: "Looks like no one's here."

Zhang Awu chuckled:

"Sir, you don't know this, but these flower farmers are very cunning. With such a large entourage entering the village, they have sharp ears and will definitely hide in their houses and pretend to be dead."

He winked at a burly thug next to him.

The rogue understood, took two steps back, took a running start, and in a few quick movements grabbed the low wall and nimbly climbed over.

There was a loud thud, the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground.

Immediately afterwards, the terrified cries of children and the pleading of the elderly could be heard.

"Clatter".

Soon, a key was thrown over the wall.

Zhang Awu bent down to pick it up, blew off the dust, deftly unlocked the door, pushed open the crooked wooden door, and bowed to Jiang Mu and Shi Lang, gesturing for them to enter.

"Gentlemen, please come in. Watch out for the threshold."

Jiang Mu stepped inside.

The courtyard was small, the ground was uneven, and there were broken tiles and withered grass everywhere.

In one corner, there was a pile of chopped firewood, and in another corner, there was a simple chicken coop, which was empty.

Directly opposite were three low mud-brick houses with tattered window paper and straw mats blocking them.

According to the records in Chengyuan, this family consisted of four people.

An old woman surnamed Zhao, who was nearly sixty years old, her son Yuan Laowu, and Yuan Laowu's two children.

The fifth elder's wife passed away last year.

At this moment, in a corner of the courtyard wall, two children were huddled together, shivering.

The older one was a little girl of about ten years old, wearing tattered clothes covered in patches, with her dry, yellow hair disheveled like weeds, and she was so thin she was skin and bones.

Only one pair of eyes remained bright, but now they were filled with terror.

She held her younger brother, who was about four or five years old, in her arms.

The little boy had a sallow complexion, sunken eyes, and coughed from time to time.

On the other side, an old woman with gray hair and tattered clothes was kneeling on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly to the ruffian who had just climbed over the wall.

Seeing Jiang Mu and Shi Lang enter in their official robes, she grasped at a lifeline, immediately turned around, crawled a few steps on her knees, and slammed her forehead heavily against the muddy ground:

"Sir, please have mercy... We really have nothing left. Please, please grant us a few more days. Our child is dying. Please, sirs, have mercy..."

Zhang Awu moved closer to Jiang Mu and said with a smile:

"Sir, don't be fooled by this old woman's pitiful appearance. I've seen plenty of people like her; they're like walnuts—you have to crack them open to eat them. She's probably hiding some hidden money in her house, who knows under some brick."

Just then, a rogue who had somehow sneaked into the house came out with a smug look on his face.

He was holding a dark, grimy earthenware pot in his hand, and in front of everyone, he smashed it hard on the ground.

"Snapped!"

The earthenware pot shattered.

A few copper coins and a small piece of silver rolled out of the black soil, looking particularly dazzling in the sunlight.

Zhang Awu said smugly:

"Sir, look what I told you! This is what they call 'a thief never leaves empty-handed'... oh no, it's 'the long arm of the law will catch you!'"

The old woman kneeling on the ground, upon seeing the silver, seemed to have her spine ripped out, or perhaps she unleashed her last bit of strength, as she lunged forward, trying to snatch it, only to be kicked away by the ruffian.

Ignoring the pain, the old woman lay on the ground and wailed loudly:

"That's money to save my grandson's life! That's the money I need to buy medicine for him!"

"Sir, please, it's the child's life!"

"If you take it away, my grandson won't survive!"

Seemingly startled, the boy in the little girl's arms coughed violently, his face turning red, as if he were coughing up his lungs.

The little girl, tears streaming down her face, gently patted her brother's back as she looked desperately at the group of intruders.

Jiang Mu frowned deeply as she watched this scene.

He was about to speak.

Suddenly, someone gently tugged at her sleeve.

Jiang Mu turned his head and saw Shi Lang gesturing towards the door, saying in a low voice, "My lord, may I speak with you in private?"

Jiang Mu hesitated for a moment, then followed Shi Lang out of the courtyard.

After the two left, the village head, Cheng Yuan, walked over to Old Lady Yuan, who was slumped on the ground, with his hands behind his back. He bent down and sighed:

"Grandma Yuan, how could I not know your difficulties? But the imperial court also has its difficulties. Now demons are rampant, wreaking havoc in the countryside. Which of the officials of the Demon Slayer Division isn't risking their lives?"

The purpose of levying this "demon-slaying tax" is precisely to give them the energy to subdue demons and monsters. In the end, isn't it also to protect the peace of our region?

He paused here, then changed the subject.

"By the way, where's your fifth son? I saw him a few days ago; he seemed quite healthy. I heard he went to the city to do some odd jobs recently; he must have earned some hard-earned money, right?"

Granny Yuan's eyes flashed, and her chapped lips trembled as she said:

"I...my son doesn't have any money either. You know, village chief, he's too frail to do heavy work."

"Alright, stop complaining about being poor!"

Zhang A walked forward impatiently and squatted down in front of the old woman in a very casual manner.

"Grandma, you see, we men aren't unreasonable either. See?"

He pointed to Zhao, the accountant, who was standing to the side.

"We've even brought in the pawnbroker. If you really can't come up with the cash, that's easy to handle. Your few acres of land are still worth something, right? You can mortgage them to get through this. Or perhaps..."

His gaze swept over the two trembling children in the corner, and a smile spread across his face.

"Selling your two grandsons is one way to go. The younger one is sickly and not worth much, but he might be taken by a wealthy family as a test subject for medicine."

As for the older one, if he's diligent, he can be sold into the city as a maid. If he's lucky enough to get in... well, that's a way to make a living; he can at least earn a few bushels of rice, right?

No sooner had he finished speaking than two henchmen rushed over.

The little girl shrank back in fear, but her arm was grabbed and she was roughly pulled away like a chick.

The boy in her arms lost his support, fell to the ground, and cried out.

"My grandson! Don't touch my grandson!"

Granny Yuan went crazy and tried to rush over to fight, but a henchman grabbed her arm and pinned her to the ground.

She struggled desperately.

His dusty forehead thudded against the ground.

"My lord, please have mercy! The land can't be pawned, it's our lifeline! And the children can't be sold either! I beg you, please grant me a few more days. I'll do anything, even beg on the streets, to scrape together the tax money..."

Just then, another hanger-on emerged from the corner, carrying a speckled hen, and said with a smug grin:

"Boss, we found her in the cellar. She hid this old woman pretty well."

"Perfect timing, let's make some nourishing soup for the two of you."

Zhang Awu's eyes lit up, and he walked over, grabbed the chicken, and slammed it to the ground.

The hen was startled and frantically flapped its wings.

Its sharp claws dug clumps of yellow earth into the ground, and it let out a pitiful "clucking" sound from its throat.

Zhang Awu sneered, stepped on the chicken's claws, gripped the chicken's wing root tightly with his left hand, and pinched the chicken's neck like an iron clamp between his index finger and thumb.

The hen, which had been struggling desperately, froze instantly, flapped its wings twice in vain, and could no longer move.

He pulled out a boning knife from his waist.

The blade gleamed coldly in the autumn sun.

Zhang Awu's gaze swept over the desperate old woman and the trembling little girl, as if to intimidate them or to show off, and he deliberately brandished the tip of his knife at them.

"See that? This is what happens if you don't pay your grain tax..."

The little girl's thin body trembled.

She wanted to see her crying brother, but her neck was tightly gripped by the henchmen behind her, and her cheek was pressed against the muddy ground.

That posture bore a resemblance to the old hen waiting to be slaughtered in Zhang Awu's hands.

"Master, that's the only hen in the house that lays eggs. It's for the sick child to recover... Please..."

Grandma Yuan was already somewhat delirious, and she was only kowtowing instinctively, her forehead covered with blood and dirt, which smeared her old face.

"I just don't understand, are all you peasants' brains filled with shit?!"

Zhang Awu's fingers flew as he tore at the taut downy feathers on the chicken's neck, spittle flying everywhere.

"The lords of the Demon Slayer Division risk their lives to fight those man-eating demons and monsters. Who is it all for? Isn't it so that you can sleep peacefully and not have your crops snatched away by monsters!"

Asking you to contribute some food is like taking your lives. Without them, you'd be devoured to the bone long ago! Don't you understand?!

As he spoke, he flicked his wrist and gently sliced ​​the knife across the skin.

A stream of dark red chicken blood gushed out, like beads from a broken string, splashing into the dust and creating dark red blood flowers.

Grandma Yuan collapsed to the ground.

He stared blankly at the pool of chicken blood, muttering to himself, seemingly lost in thought.

Just then, a ruffian who was loitering near the kitchen suddenly exclaimed "Huh?" in surprise:

"Boss, there seems to be some noise coming from the kitchen?"

All eyes turned to the low, dilapidated kitchen.

Granny Yuan, who had been limp, jolted as if electrocuted, her eyes flashing with terror, and she cried out incoherently:

"No...nobody's there! There's nobody there! Just us...just my family and a few of us!"

"Heh, I knew it. That spineless Fifth Elder was indeed hiding at home."

Zhang Awu casually tossed the still-twitching dead chicken aside and cursed.

"Letting your own mother and children suffer outside while you hide in the kitchen like a coward, you're not a real man!"

He strode over.

The old woman cried and tried to rush over to stop him, but was held back tightly by the hanger-on beside her.

Zhang Awu kicked open the dilapidated wooden door.

He stood at the doorway, his gaze sweeping around before finally settling on the two enormous piles of firewood in the corner.

Through the gaps in the firewood, a tattered corner of clothing could be vaguely seen.

"It was hidden quite well."

He sneered, strode forward, and ripped aside the firewood blocking the way.

"Get the hell out of here..."

Before he could finish speaking, Zhang Awu suddenly froze.

A man, bound by thick hemp rope, with a ferocious face and torn flesh on his cheeks, his eyes bloodshot, lunged forward with a low growl...

-

Outside the courtyard, under the old locust tree.

Shi Lang took out a pipe from his pocket, filled it with tobacco, and sighed:

"My lord, from what I've observed along the way, I know you are a kind-hearted person who cannot bear to see such human suffering."

But there are rules in officialdom. There are some things you can ignore, but you can't be soft-hearted about. Once you're soft-hearted, those rules are broken, and things fall into chaos.

Jiang Mu's voice was slightly cold: "Why?"

Shi Lang lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, exhaled a ring of bluish-white smoke, and said softly:

"Don't we know how much the people suffer? But if we can't collect taxes, who will bear the consequences?"

Today you see this family as pitiful and exempt them from taxes. Tomorrow that family will be even more pitiful and will also beg you to exempt them.

Once this loophole is opened, it'll be like a river bursting its banks—unstoppable. Everyone will know that feigning poverty can evade taxes; who will be willing to pay then?

He looked through the smoke at Jiang Mu, his tone helpless:

"If Village Chief Cheng can't collect the full amount, he can't explain it to the County Magistrate. If the County Magistrate is short of the quota, how will he explain it to the Prefectural Magistrate, or even the officials in the Ministry of Revenue of the Imperial Court?"

If the Demon Slayer Division's provisions are cut short, who will go to slay demons? If demons run rampant, it won't just be one or two families that die.

My lord, we are all insects struggling to survive in this great net. If you poke a hole today, someone else will tear a hole tomorrow, and the net will break.

When the network breaks, no one, from top to bottom, will benefit.

At that time, not only will I, a lowly official, lose my head, but you will also likely be held accountable by your superiors and charged with "incompetence and leniency towards troublemakers."

Is it worth jeopardizing your future and even disrupting the entire tax system of Huzhou City for a few complete strangers?

Jiang Mu gazed at the gray, misty village without saying a word.

Shi Lang sighed:

"These days, the world is tough. There are rebellions breaking out all over the country, powerful enemies knocking on the gates from the outside, and we also have to guard against demons causing trouble. Natural disasters and man-made calamities never stop."

The court is in trouble, His Majesty is in trouble, the Grand Secretaries and Ministers are in trouble, and we, the lowly servants, are caught in the middle, suffering from both sides, making our situation even more difficult.

He tapped his pipe:

"Since everyone is struggling, then we can only... let the common people suffer first."

Should we make the common people suffer?

A cold glint flashed in Jiang Mu's eyes, and she was about to open her mouth to say something.

suddenly!

"ah--!!"

A piercing scream rang out from inside the courtyard.