Chapter 8: A Reasonable Harvest Shortfall

The county town remained as lively as ever. It was strange, really—just a single wall divided it from the villages outside, yet it felt like another world altogether. Inside, the city was ablaze with lights and music, swallows and orioles danced through the night; outside, people toiled endlessly, wearing their bodies and minds thin.

Luo Gan and Erhu walked side by side, each carrying a basket of fish on their backs. Erhu, as usual, glanced about curiously, making faces at anyone dressed in fine clothes.

“How carefree they are! Truly carefree!” Erhu exclaimed. “Some people are just born for an easy life.”

Luo Gan shifted the heavy load on his back, adjusting his posture before carrying on. His slight frame struggled far more than Erhu’s.

“Everyone has their own hardships,” Luo Gan replied. “There’s no one in this world who’s truly carefree.”

Erhu looked at him in disbelief. Luo Gan was hardly someone born to enjoy an easy fate.

“You and that bear’s mouth of yours! How can you compare those fine-clothed folk who don’t do hard labor to us? We work from the rooster’s first crow till even the mice are asleep. What could possibly be harder?”

Luo Gan managed a bitter smile, glancing at Erhu, whose whole life had been spent in the fields. It was no wonder he couldn’t imagine any other kind of suffering.

“Once dressed in fine clothes, perhaps what comes from their mouths is no longer human speech—they’re always dealing with masters, playing the obedient grandson.”

“What do you mean, not human speech?” Erhu protested.

Luo Gan replied, more patiently, “Don’t mind that our work is backbreaking—at least by the day’s end, it’s done. Many never make it to dusk in their whole lives.”

Erhu scratched his head, lost in Luo Gan’s words. He’d never understand what it was like to be a scribe.

“I say, you really don’t speak human words. All that talk and I still don’t get it,” Erhu sighed.

Luo Gan could only shake his head. Erhu hurried him along, reminding him they needed to reach their destination before sunset.

Soon, they set their baskets down to rest. A tavern dog barked fiercely at Luo Gan, making their wait all the more tense.

Erhu kept his distance, eyeing the vicious dog with unease.

“Ha! So even big fellows have things they fear,” Luo Gan teased.

“I fear nothing,” Erhu blustered. “But if that mad dog bites my leg, I won’t be able to work when I get home.”

His bravado, paired with his nervousness, made Luo Gan chuckle. He stepped forward to face the dog.

Squatting down, Luo Gan stared intently into the dog’s eyes. The barking stopped. They locked gazes, Luo Gan’s expression unreadable, leaving the dog confused and the air thick with tension. Erhu had no idea what Luo Gan would do next.

Suddenly, Luo Gan contorted his face, rolled his eyes, and let out a wolfish howl: “Awoo!”

Erhu was so stunned, the veins on his face nearly slid off. If not for the ground beneath him, he would have slipped right home, unwilling to admit acquaintance with this fool.

The dog, startled by Luo Gan’s antics, backed away, darting under a table in the tailor’s shop.

Erhu was even more astonished, watching Luo Gan turn back with a victor’s swagger.

“Braggart, scaring dogs now—A’Luo, you’ve really got some nerve!” Erhu laughed.

“Look at you, big as a bear, but scared of a dog half your belly’s size,” Luo Gan shot back, grinning.

Seeing Luo Gan’s smugness, Erhu was tempted to remind him how quickly he could forget the force of his own fists.

Erhu looked around for something to use as a weapon, found none, and grabbed a fish in each hand instead, brandishing them like twin swords.

Not to be outdone, Luo Gan seized a large fish, gripping it with both hands like a valiant warrior.

Naturally, their antics drew a crowd. The onlookers speculated about what kind of performance this was, cheering them on.

The two had only meant to put on a show, but as the crowd grew, they found themselves in an awkward position—neither willing to start nor to back down.

Just then, a man emerged from the tavern, dressed in a round-collared robe, a leather belt, and tall boots—his refined attire set him apart from the common folk. His kindly face was adorned with a few wisps of beard, and he appeared to be around fifty. At his arrival, all eyes turned.

“Greetings, Magistrate Du!” people called. “It’s Magistrate Du!”

Magistrate Du greeted the people with a wave. Luo Gan thought to himself that this must be what it was like when an important leader met his people.

He smiled warmly at Luo Gan and Erhu, who had already dropped their fish, and beckoned them over.

“I heard from Magistrate Liu. Please, come inside for a word,” Magistrate Du said, motioning them in.

Luo Gan and Erhu exchanged a glance, slung their baskets over their shoulders, and hurried after him—only to remember the fish they’d just dropped. They rushed back to grab them, then jogged to catch up.

Inside, the inn’s attendant served wine and poured tea for Magistrate Du before rushing off to tend to other guests.

Seeing the two were ill at ease, Magistrate Du gestured for them to relax.

“No need for formality. I’m not one for ceremony,” he assured them.

He raised his teacup in a toast.

“Let me use tea in place of wine. I’m not much for drinking—if I have too much, I’ll end up seeking pleasure at the brothel.”

Erhu burst out laughing, pointing with abandon, while Luo Gan joined in, nudging Erhu’s hand to keep him from being too impolite.

They drained their cups, and Luo Gan observed Magistrate Du closely. He seemed truly unflappable—clearly a refined man, especially as an old acquaintance of Magistrate Liu.

“Sir, if I may speak plainly,” Luo Gan began. “This year, Anping County’s tax is to be paid in fish.”

At this, Magistrate Du examined the fish baskets more closely, picking up a fish to inspect.

“It’s fresh,” he remarked. “Though I only took office this year, it’s rare to see fish paid as tax. Is it always fish here?”

“Uh… yes, more or less. Other places deliver vegetables, so we don’t clash with them…” Luo Gan answered.

“Grain is always best,” Magistrate Du mused. “How could there be a conflict? Fish, after all, doesn’t keep well—rice lasts much longer.”

Luo Gan felt the weakness in his argument exposed. Though he’d prepared his reasoning, his words faltered.

Erhu, stifling his discomfort, decided to speak up.

“Hey! Since you’re old friends, why not just say it plainly?”

Luo Gan quickly cut him off, smacking his thigh with a sharp slap that rang out.

“Mind your manners! This is Magistrate Du—show some respect.”

Erhu yelped in pain. “I just can’t stand all this fuss—men should speak plainly!”

Magistrate Du found Erhu’s simplicity amusing, and Luo Gan’s courtesy commendable.

“No matter,” Magistrate Du said. “As for old friends, that’s true enough. If you need help, just ask.”

Realizing there was no use hiding it, Luo Gan spoke directly.

He took out a fish and laid it on the table. “Sir, we suffered floods this year—our vegetable fields are ruined. We fear delaying the state’s business.”

“And we fear losing our heads,” Erhu added.

“So we wanted to use the fine fish we raise in the river to exchange for the grain tax,” Luo Gan explained.

Erhu was momentarily lost. “Wait—didn’t I tell you the river fish were fat? Since when did they become ‘ours’?”

Luo Gan could have wept, covering his face, unwilling to engage with his foolish friend.

Magistrate Du stroked his beard, glancing back and forth between the fish and Luo Gan.

“By law, failing to pay the grain tax is a capital crime. Fish, though food, isn’t counted as part of Anping’s required tax,” he stated.

At these words, Luo Gan felt his world spinning. How would he explain this to the villagers? Was there no hope?

Maybe he should have listened to Erhu from the start and rebelled. But rebellion meant recruiting men and gathering food. Worse still, if the imperial army came, they’d be no match, and who would be blamed as the ringleader? If he were caught, that would be the end—Tang punishments were no laughing matter.

Yes! Erhu would be the one. He’d recommend someone brave to lead; if things went south, he’d just run for it.

With this, Luo Gan shook his head, thinking perhaps there was a way out after all.

Erhu rapped Luo Gan on the head. “So what do you propose?”

“I’ve decided to appoint you as commander-in-chief, General of Autumn Harvest. Our goal—the stars and the sea,” Luo Gan quipped.

Erhu, utterly bewildered, sniffed Luo Gan’s cup. “Is this wine, or some brain-addling remedy?”

Growing anxious, Erhu turned to Magistrate Du. “Sir… do you know any doctor who can see to my friend? His brains must be waterlogged.”

Magistrate Du, seeing their distress, tapped his fingers on the table to focus their attention.

“There’s still a way,” he said. “This year’s weather has indeed been poor. When it comes to grain, a reasonable shortfall can be allowed.”

Erhu was none the wiser, but Luo Gan understood at once, bowing deeply.

“Thank you, Magistrate Du, for your help!”