Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

at the same time.

Jiangxia County, Wuchang Prefecture - Dawn.

Zhu Cilang's "merchant ship" heading west quietly arrived in Jiangxia.

Before the morning mist had dissipated, he pushed open the carved boat window, and a river breeze carrying the smell of fish immediately rushed towards him.

The eaves of the Yellow Crane Tower on the opposite bank are now just a hazy outline, appearing and disappearing in the mist.

Below Huanghuji, more than twenty grain ships were lined up in a long, twisted snake formation on the river; further out in the middle of the river, more than a dozen cargo ships waited silently in the fog.

On the dock, on the east side of the blue stone city walls, the apricot-yellow flag of the "Ministry of Revenue Tax Bureau" fluttered stiffly in the wind, making a muffled rustling sound.

The notice board, inscribed with "Erected by the Hubei Provincial Administration Commissioner," was embedded in the stone wall of the tax station. The words on the surface were blurred by moisture and appeared indistinct in the morning mist.

This place is a checkpoint for collecting taxes from passing ships.

Suddenly, cries came from under the tax gate on the east side.

Zhu Cilang looked in the direction of the sound and saw a grain ship from Huizhou having its hold broken open by tax officials.

"Snap—!"

The sacks were torn open with iron hooks, and the rice grains tumbled onto the deck with a clatter.

The boat owner knelt on the gangplank, repeatedly kowtowing and pleading:

"Military rations! This is military rations for the Wuchang camp!"

The tax collector responded with a cold laugh:

"The tax for suppressing bandits and pacifying the people was personally approved by the Emperor. Every sampan on this river has to pay the anchorage tax."

Zhu Cilang's eyes suddenly darkened.

The tax official's phrase "personally approved by the Emperor" was particularly jarring. When had he ever issued an edict to levy such exorbitant taxes? Clearly, someone was using the pretext of suppressing bandits to carry out exploitation.

Before he could finish speaking, another sharp crack of breaking wood rang out, and another hook had already plunged deep into the neighboring boat.

Zhu Cilang suddenly gripped the window frame tightly with his five fingers.

The regulations governing the Grand Canal transport clearly state that military rations are tax-exempt. This forced requisitioning of grain across the river... a strong sense of unease gripped him.

What those iron hooks tore open was more than just grain sacks; it was probably the lifeblood of the entire Hubei and Hunan province that was bleeding.

Zhu Cilang's "merchant ship" had just anchored when three fast red horse boats broke through the fog and surrounded it.

This three-masted merchant ship, disguised as "Suzhou Silk," had a very deep draft, but underneath the hold were twenty elite soldiers of the Beijing Garrison, armed with chainmail and sharp blades.

Before the splashing water outside the ship had subsided, Zhu Cilang had already stepped out of the cabin.

Three people appeared on the springboard ahead, the leader of whom had a gilded bronze plaque hanging from his waist, engraved with the words "Huguang Provincial Administration Commission"—

It was the Tax Bureau Chief, a minor official in charge of tax books, who held real power despite his low rank.

Zan Dian swayed up the springboard, his official hat askew, a few strands of oily hair stuck to his forehead.

His left hand gripped the tax book stamped with the red seal of "Wuchang Tax Bureau," while his right hand's five fingers flew across the copper abacus, clicking and rattling, a sound that stirred the heart.

Two tax collectors stood guard behind him, one on the left and one on the right, each holding an iron hook and glaring menacingly.

The skewer operator on the left seemed used to this scene and immediately bowed and smiled obsequiously:

"Master Song, please be careful. The deck is wet with dew. Watch your step."

Zhang Youyu, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, went to greet him.

He was dressed in coarse cloth, slightly hunched over, and unconsciously rubbed his fingertips together, looking exactly like an old accountant who had been using an abacus for years.

Her voice was soft and gentle, almost soothing.

"This clerk has worked hard. Our Suzhou-Songjiang merchant guild's ships just paid their taxes in Yingtian Prefecture last month..."

"Please present the customs inspection certificate!"

Song Zandian looked down at Zhang Youyu from his high position.

Zhang Youyu immediately took out the inspection slip from his pocket and presented it with both hands, but it was snatched away by Song Dianshi.

He flipped through it hastily, then suddenly chuckled and tossed the inspection form back at Zhang Youyu's chest:

"This corner is all curled up; it's clearly an old order. Do you think I'm so easily fooled?"

Zhang Youyu bent down to pick it up, unfolded the bright red seal of the Ministry of Revenue at the end, and spoke in a calm tone:

"As the scribe Song knows, this was just issued last month, and there are slight wrinkles due to the hasty journey. The year and ship number correspond perfectly to the merchant ship, without the slightest discrepancy."

Song Zandian's triangular eyes swept over Zhang Youyu's face, seemingly trying to squeeze out a trace of panic, but to no avail.

He slammed his abacus down heavily:

"Enough talk! Open the hatch and inspect!"

Having said that, he led two skewer operators straight to the lower deck.

Zhu Cilang frowned slightly, hesitated for a moment, and then followed, stopping in the shadows at the hatch to observe coldly.

The hold was filled with the refreshing scent of Suzhou silk, a tribute from the Suzhou Weaving Bureau, which was normally exempt from tax.

A shaving operator suddenly shouted:

"Master Song, it's Suzhou silk."

Song Zandian sniffed the air, his nostrils twitching. He stood in front of the port window, his gaze lingering on Zhu Cilang for a moment before casually looking away.

He then opened the account book and scolded:

"Inspect the goods carefully, lest the same mistake be made at Jiujiang Customs last month."

He immediately leaned half his body out from the port side to look at the water, and drew out the words in Chu dialect:

"Oh, a three-masted ship with a draft of five feet three inches, so ballast tax will have to be added."

He flicked his fingers a few times on the abacus.

"Water tax is three qian, river dredging is five qian, and dock berthing is one tael..."

When the ballast bricks were exposed, Zhu Cilang saw the newly added characters on the tax book. The ink was not yet dry, indicating that they were written in haste.

"May I ask, Clerk Song, these ballast bricks... are also subject to taxation in silver?"

Zhang Youyu stepped forward with the account book in hand. This Vice Minister of Revenue, disguised as an accountant, had long since memorized the tax regulations.

Water tax should be measured according to the width of the ship's beam, but now Song Zandian is even converting the ballast bricks into commodity value.

Song Zandian's gold-inlaid teeth gleamed in the morning light:

"Last month, Zhang Xianzhong burned down the Dragon King Temple, and the incense money for the River God was increased by three coins per boat."

As he spoke, he rapidly manipulated the abacus with a practiced ease as natural as breathing.

Zhu Cilang's temples throbbed. The clicking of the abacus beads seemed to transform into the roar of a millstone in his ears.

The copper abacus transformed into a millstone, and Song Zandian's fingernails resembled ghostly hands pushing the millstone. The ninety-one beads turned into three hundred and sixty sharp teeth, grinding the spines of the people of Hubei and Hunan into powder.

When the last bead clicked back into place, the sound, to him, was like the bones of ordinary people shattering inch by inch.

Suddenly, a mournful wail came from the stone steps of the dock, shattering the illusion.

"See those three corpses hanging on the dock?"

Song Zandian slowly tore open the tax bill and gestured towards the eaves of the dock:

"The advance payment of silver for resisting the suppression of the rebellion."

His tone was as casual as if he were chatting, even carrying a hint of smugness, as if what was hanging there was not a human life, but a boundary marker of the limits of his power.

"The Provincial Governor personally issued an order to use severe punishments in times of chaos, as a warning to others."

He glanced at Zhu Cilang, then looked at Zhang Youyu.

"What, you want to go up and enjoy the breeze with them too?"

In the morning breeze, the swaying silhouettes of three corpses were imprinted directly into Zhu Cilang's pupils.

The corpse was dressed in tattered clothes, dangling barefoot, and its neck was deformed by a thick hemp rope.

Several crows perched silently on the eaves, their black bean-like eyes coldly staring at the crowd below.

Zhu Cilang's gaze turned cold, and he gave Zhang Youyu a look.

Zhang Youyu, understanding immediately, asked:

"May I ask about the magistrate of Song?"

"The Great Ming Code stipulates that those who resist taxes shall be flogged one hundred times and exiled for three years. What is the rationale behind such private executions and public display of corpses?"