SFS Chapter 87 This seal is named Time
Chapter 87 This seal is named Time
Chapter 87 This seal is named Time
Summer of the ninth year of Chongming.
Zhang Jingheng, the Vice Minister of Revenue, offered a plan to save the country and was promoted to Minister of Revenue.
His wife, Liu Yuqing, was granted the title of Second Rank Imperial Consort.
This national policy has four main points. First, all taxes, including the poll tax, will be levied on the land. The more land a person owns, the more taxes they will pay; if they own no land, they will not be taxed.
Secondly, all taxes were paid in silver instead of in kind, thus avoiding losses and facilitating transportation.
Third, the performance evaluation system for officials will continue to be implemented. Those who are passive, negligent, or fail to contribute significantly to tax revenue will be dismissed and investigated.
Fourth, when the people are enlightened, the nation prospers!
It shares a similar approach with the national policy proposed by Dong Xingjian back then.
But it is more detailed, more in line with national conditions, and more ingenious.
In addition, His Majesty the Emperor was saddened by the assassination of Tang Shijun.
Tang Shijun was granted the title of Duke of Mingguo, and his wife was granted the title of First-Rank Imperial Consort, allowing her direct access to the inner palace.
He also ordered the entire nation to mourn and to build the Mingguogong Temple.
Although the officials were resentful of the national policy, the land survey was completed and the household registration was sorted out.
Now that Tang Shijun is dead, it is unknown who killed him.
They were all worried that the emperor would use this as a pretext to investigate them, and that their lives and fortunes would be in danger. So how could they dare to oppose him?
Even those who dared to assassinate Huan'er were secretly captured and taken to the Zhaoyu Prison.
After receiving Huan'er's offerings for so many years, it's finally time for Zhang Li, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, to get down to business.
His underlings are lurking in various places, plotting to harm Huan'er, but they must first get past this hurdle.
Several veterans in the military even stepped forward to openly support Huan'er.
They were soldiers, and military farmland was always taken according to the rules.
Over the years, Huan'er and Tang Shijun have been arguing incessantly, with Huan'er shouting that a country without an army will perish, and she insisted on paying them their full salaries.
The men who survived the battles all remembered his kindness and naturally gave him their full support.
With the eunuch Zhang Li secretly protecting her from within, the army supporting her from without, and Emperor Chongming adding fuel to the fire.
The implementation of national policies is an inevitable trend and can be accomplished easily.
As long as Emperor Chongming, the eunuch Zhang Li, and these military generals are still alive.
No one in the world dared to touch Huan'er.
Tang Shijun only said that he left Huan'er a very sharp knife, but he never mentioned that he had also prepared an extremely hard suit of armor.
Chu Xun watched all of this unfold from the shadows, and Tang Shijun's body was properly buried.
Without using any magic, a torrential downpour began, accompanied by thunder.
This was the custom in the vicinity of Pingshui Town, but Tang Shijun had performed great deeds, so it was not an exaggeration for Heaven to send him off.
Many people who had benefited from Tang Shijun's kindness also spontaneously went to the Mingguogong Ancestral Hall to pay their respects.
This is an arrogant person.
He is someone others can be proud of.
Chu Xun did not leave, but followed Huan'er to the northwest suburbs.
There was a solitary grave there, with a low mound and a crooked tombstone, the inscription of which was already blurred and illegible.
Huan'er brought the remaining vintage of Bai Family Old Shop's brew and came here alone, first clearing away the large piles of weeds around her.
They dug up the tombstone and straightened it.
By the time I finished, it was already evening.
He was panting heavily when he plopped down in front of the grave.
Once he had caught his breath, he bent down and lifted the lid of the wine jar.
He poured three bowls of wine and held one of them in his hand.
"Brother Dong, I am many years late, please don't be offended."
"Your policy essay was very good, but unfortunately, unlike me, you don't have a top-notch teacher."
Huan'er raised the bowl full of fine wine in her hand, a smile on her face, but sorrow in her eyes.
The wind blew by, sweeping away the scattered weeds all around.
A setting sun, its dark red light illuminating a face that already bore the marks of time.
"Teacher, Brother Dong, I salute you."
Chu Xun watched him drink, laughed, and talked at length.
It seemed that Huan'er wasn't the only one here; there was also an arrogant old man and a brilliant scholar who had achieved the highest rank in the imperial examinations.
From a child selling roasted nuts at a temple fair to the Minister of Revenue who saved the nation from suffering.
Chu Xun witnessed this journey firsthand.
Chu Xun was deeply saddened when Zhang Anxiu passed away.
On the road to immortality, there is only the sorrow of losing loved ones.
But now, watching Huan'er gesturing wildly at the air, I suddenly remembered that in the twenty-ninth year of the Jing Kingdom, Tang Shijun was promoted to Tongzhi.
I once faced the Songliu River, thinking about how time flows on relentlessly and never looks back.
Only he would stand on the riverbank, watching groups of people come and go.
coming.
I went.
Like waves crashing against the shore, specks of water splash onto the damp mud.
It felt as if it existed.
At that moment, he saw clearly that there were more than just water stains on the soil.
There was also a line of footprints.
Those who come, those who leave.
They all left their mark.
The footprints twisted and turned, eventually forming two characters.
years!
No matter how turbulent the waves are, they cannot erase it.
Generation after generation will make these footprints clearer and clearer.
Huan'er didn't leave until the next day.
Chu Xun did not follow them, but slowly walked to Dong Xingjian's grave.
The surrounding ground kept shifting, from loose to extremely solid.
Weeds, along with their roots and gravel, were all rolled into powder and ground up in the underground mill.
The low mound gradually rose until it was as tall as a person.
Even the tombstones seem to grow out of thin air.
They stopped when the stones were almost as tall as a person.
Looking at the now-decent grave mound, Chu Xun seemed to see the withered bones inside the coffin through the information conveyed by the soil.
"Your talent truly deserves the title of top scholar."
Unfortunately, no one paves the way for you.
A sound came from not far away, it seemed someone was coming.
Chu Xun didn't say anything more, turned around and started walking.
Each step covered tens of meters, and in the blink of an eye, they vanished without a trace.
Only the inscription on the tombstone gradually became clear.
A moment later, several well-dressed young men and women walked over.
They were students and their families from a nearby private school. Knowing that the tomb of a former top scholar was located here, they would often come to visit, compose poems, and absorb some of his talent.
In retrospect, it seems rather eccentric and strange.
Upon arriving at this place, the group exclaimed in surprise, "When did this tomb become so well-maintained?"
When I last came here, it was still a lonely little grave that no one cared about.
Seeing it again today, it actually looks quite presentable.
"Perhaps someone came to pay respects at the grave, and they took the opportunity to do some repairs," someone speculated.
The young man with a large black mole on his face nodded and said, "Only now can he barely be considered worthy of the title of top scholar."
"Such a joyous occasion! Why don't you all compose a poem on the spot, taking this moment as your theme?"
His mention of it piqued the interest of the others.
"Alright, I'll go first! The bright moonlight shines before the grave—"
Chu Xun, who had already walked quite a distance, could faintly hear the sound of poetry being recited.
He couldn't help but look back and chuckle to himself, "There are so many strange people in this world."
Under the blazing sun, the tall tombstone stands proudly.
The handwriting is clear and unmistakable.
[The Tomb of Dong Xingjian, a Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examination) and the top scholar in the imperial examination]
Looking back, we continue on our journey.
With each step he took, Chu Xun's white hair thinned and his wrinkles became less pronounced.
Others just get older as they walk, and the older they get, the less they can walk.
Only he seems to grow younger with each step.
Within a few miles, the old and frail were no longer in sight.
The boy was only sixteen or seventeen years old, with a gentle and jade-like face and fair skin.
Following the country lanes, I headed back the way I came.
Four or five hundred miles ahead lies Fenggu City.
The boy's mouth didn't taste bitter, but he still wanted to eat something sweet.
For example, locust flowers.
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