Chapter Forty-Seven: The Tax Resistance in Suzhou (Part Three)

Fang Zhenghua said, “It’s not as if they haven’t rebelled before. Didn’t they kill the tax inspector right here in Suzhou back then?”

Liu Ligong smiled, “So Master Fang is aware that the tax inspector was killed.”

Fang Zhenghua flared up, “You are truly clueless. We’re here to help you, not to supervise you. Who are you putting on this show for? Senior Brother, don’t bother with him. Let him come begging to us when he runs into trouble.”

Cao Huachun ignored him and turned to Liu Ligong, “When Magistrate Shen left earlier, he was quite disrespectful to Director Liu. Are you truly planning to shoulder this all by yourself?”

Liu Ligong disliked eunuchs, especially those monitoring the tax bureau, but he knew the bureau answered directly to the capital. To leverage the local authorities, he needed to maintain good relations with them. Yet he felt far less secure relying on them than on the Eastern Depot, and their power was not as effective. So he said, “If Lord Cao has any instructions, Ligong will obey.”

That afternoon, the Eastern Depot agents received some news. The magistrate had originally promised to reply to the petitioning merchants tomorrow, but today he informed them: the tax bureau had spoken—the taxes would be collected as usual.

Word spread in the city that the magistrate had gone to plead at the tax bureau, only to be thrown out by the director, who then threatened to impose heavy taxes in Suzhou—double what other places paid.

This message swept through Suzhou, provoking ridicule, suspicion, and conviction in equal measure. Some people vowed to go to the bureau and demand answers.

That night, Cao Huachun finally welcomed the agents he’d summoned. He emptied the ranks of the Eastern Depot in the surrounding prefectures—Huzhou, Jiaxing, Songjiang, Changzhou—gathering over three hundred men.

He immediately set about planning. He divided them into two groups: he himself would lead two hundred men to the tax bureau, while Fang Zhenghua would stand guard at the Eastern Depot’s Suzhou branch with over a hundred. Fang wanted to lead the group to the bureau, but Cao pressed him down, fearing Fang’s impulsive nature might escalate matters.

Near the bureau, Cao had already booked a large inn. After settling in with his men, he posted ten agents at each nearby intersection leading to the tax bureau; the rest began to rest.

The next morning, a crowd of merchants gathered and marched toward the bureau. Cao had Chen, the squad leader, stand at the entrance with ten agents; the others waited at the inn for news.

Quickly, news arrived: the crowd included not only merchants but also burly men from the transport guild, some apparently carrying weapons.

Cao Huachun hurried to a nearby alley, sending agents ahead to report.

The crowd swelled as it moved. Wang Limin glanced at Shen Cuili up front, regretting his choices. He’d only agreed to petition at the yamen, but was pressured into coming here. Now with the situation spiraling, he feared how it might end.

They arrived at the bureau gates. Signs on either side read, “Tax Bureau—No Entry Without Permission.” Ten burly men stood guard, their leader wearing a pointed cap and white boots—clearly an Eastern Depot man. Some felt their legs weaken.

Chen stamped his white boots, stretched out his hand, and said, “This is a restricted area. Please consider carefully and stop here.”

His words frightened most, but not all. A burly man stepped forward and shouted, “The late emperor abolished the mining tax; now you want to levy a commercial tax? We’re here to reason with the bureau.”

Chen stepped forward too, “Whether taxes are collected is not for the bureau to decide, but for the court. Go home. If you wish to protest, try beating the Drum of Appeals.”

The man retorted, “That makes no sense! The bureau handles taxes—why go beat the Drum instead of coming here? Are you mocking us? Move aside! We demand an audience; we refuse to pay the commercial tax.”

With someone leading, the crowd’s courage swelled; their trembling legs steadied as they shouted, “We refuse to pay commercial tax! We refuse to pay commercial tax!”

The burly man ignored Chen, turned, and yelled, “Rush in! Let’s ask the bureau why they’re collecting this tax!”

Chen grew anxious, stepped back, drew his blade, and held it in both hands: “Let’s see who dares take another step!”

The burly man sneered, as a small man beside him darted forward, grabbing for Chen’s blade. Startled, Chen retreated again, but failed to withdraw his sword in time, slashing the small man’s hand and drawing blood.

Both men shouted, “Eastern Depot is killing people! The bureau wants blood!” Others echoed, “Rush in! Kill the Eastern Depot dogs!”

The two led the charge; others brandished short knives and clubs. Wang Limin, terrified, looked around desperately for an escape. Suddenly he saw a flash—an ominous one-eyed man with a short blade sizing him up.

Chaos erupted. Chen, overwhelmed, swung his blades wildly, injuring another. The crowd grew angrier, surging forward. Wang Limin darted aside, but the one-eyed man followed. In another flash, Wang moved just in time but was cut on the arm. Cursing Shen San’s ancestors silently, he only wanted to escape, but the one-eyed man pressed him; Wang’s leg was slashed. Muttering incoherently, he squeezed into the thick of the crowd.

An Eastern Depot agent was knocked down and immediately mobbed, beaten to death. The fatality only incited the crowd further; even normally gentle folk turned vicious. The mob soon broke through the bureau doors.

Cao Huachun, hearing the news, burst from the alley with his men. Leaping to the bureau entrance, he swung his blade, dropping two armed men. He shouted, “The Imperial Guards are here! Cease at once!”

Though the crowd knew they were Eastern Depot agents, Cao’s claim of Imperial Guards confused them. In that moment of hesitation, Cao and his agents blocked the doorway. He called out, “Eastern Depot is investigating—stand aside!” As he spoke, he scraped his blade, sending sparks flying.

The crowd gradually calmed, though some remained defiant. Someone shouted, “Eastern Depot is killing people! Rush them!”

Just then, a figure vaulted over the heads of the crowd, grabbed a man and threw him out. With a swift motion, he tore open the man’s robe, revealing a brown short jacket and a knife at his belt.

Cao Huachun now saw clearly—it was Fang Zhenghua. Fang pointed at the man’s jacket and knife, demanding, “Are you a merchant? Are you here to petition or to kill?”

From the crowd, someone cried, “My lord, they’re here to kill!” Wang Limin, battered but alive, staggered out and fell to his knees at Fang’s feet, “My lord, they’re here to kill—I can testify!”