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Qiao Xiaomai looked at him and took a long sigh.

Alright, it could only be this way at the moment.

The day passed in a blink, and soon it was the day to pay the Spring Tax.

Early in the morning, Tong Tiehu rang the big bell of the marketplace, summoning everyone in the village.

The county town’s bailiffs had arrived, the tables were set up, and they were collecting taxes from each household according to the population and farmland recorded in the household register.

For peasants, the taxation of Daqi wasn’t burdensome. All that was required was to hand over a certain amount of grain and cloth as per the size of their fields, and serve a month of labor during idle farming seasons. And with that, their tax obligations would be fulfilled.

Abominations like property tax and head tax from the previous dynasties were totally absent under Daqi.

However, even though Emperor Yongan had reduced labor services and taxes, for farmers, paying taxes was always an unpleasant task.

Adding to this, the weather was also hot. Almost everyone had a furrowed brow and a bitter look on their face.

Qiao Xiaomai sat atop an ox-cart, holding a lotus leaf as a sunshade and looking somewhat bored at the long queue ahead.

There were too many people in Anping Village. The queue for paying taxes was long, and as she arrived late, she had no choice but to wait.

Moreover, her family owned a lot of farmland that yielded a large amount of grain tax. Even with the ox-cart and donkey cart combined, they wouldn’t be able to transport all of it in one trip. The whole day would be consumed in this activity.

As the village chief, Tong Tiehu had to assist the bailiffs in collecting the wheat. His grandson, Tong Sanlang, was also helping him alongside.

Weighing the wheat, loading the cart, these simple actions were repeated over and over with no break.

It was already summer, and the sun overhead was blazing. He had been working incessantly, and yet his face didn’t have a trace of sweat.

His coarse hemp garment was still fresh and refreshing.

His posture was straight, his movements neat and efficient.

Among a crowd of farmers, whose appearances became incongruous with their ages due to hard labor, he stood out remarkably.

Qiao Xiaomai stared at him for a long time, and suddenly, the corner of her mouth curled up into a smile.

This man, was hers.

While she was grinning to herself, a familiar figure flashed before her eyes. Thin and shriveled, but containing boundless energy, it had left a deep mark of fear in the original host over the past decade.

It was the Sun Family.

Dressed in a brand-new black silk dress, her black and white speckled hair neatly bundled behind her head, a silver hairpin inserted on top.

She walked straight through the long queue to the front, standing before Tong Tiehu and a few bailiffs.

She stood up straight, her chin held high, emanating a striking air of arrogance, “Village Chief Tong, I’m here to pay the spring tax for our Xiaowu.”

Although Sun Junyan was driven out of the village, the land was still registered under his name – a total of forty-five acres.

Tong Tiehu stared blankly at her, “Get in line for tax payment.”

“I live far away, it’s not easy for me to come over. Village Chief Tong, please do as you see fit and let me go first!”

Sun said, taking out a small piece of silver from her bosom, and directly slapped it on the table in front of Tong Tiehu, a boastful smile on her face, “Village Chief Tong, our Xiaowu now serves under General Cen.”

At these words, Tong Tiehu, who had been eyeing the silver, lifted his eyelids to look at her.

Sanlang, who had been loading wheat onto the cart, couldn’t help but turn his head to look at her as well.

The villagers, who had been somewhat impatient because of her cutting in line, were stunned.

The few bailiffs also looked somewhat surprised.

General Cen, Cen Hong?