9: Chapter 9 Autumn Tax

After the Frost Descent, the two acres of slope fields in Gudong Field finally showed signs of Spirit.

For these past days, Jiang Yuhe had spent most of her nights sitting by the fields.

She would pick a stone, sit down next to the ridge, and slowly release that Grain Rain into the field.

The Grain Rain Qi was thick and unhurried; once it entered the ground, it didn't bubble up but just sank in little by little.

The section of Returning Dew Mulberry Root given by Elder Liu was buried in the north side of that half-acre plot.

It was buried deep and invisible from the outside; only when Jiang Chengning used that Water-Dividing Green Ruler to measure the water, pressing the tip down, could one see a faint green pulse slowly moving beneath.

The Water-Dividing Green Ruler was the last proper family asset the Jiang Family currently possessed.

The ruler was no longer than an arm, with a faint green line embedded in the wooden base.

It could not strike people or kill; it only served to distinguish water and recognize pulses.

The older generation of the Jiang Family hadn't been able to support the family, leaving behind only this ruler and that volume of clan history.

Jiang Chengning was holding the ruler now, standing by the ridge and looking down.

The green line at the bottom of the ruler was steady, indicating that this half-acre of thin Spirit Field hadn't gone astray for the time being.

"It's stable," he said.

Lin Suwen stood to the side, rolled up her sleeves, and looked down to examine the rice ears.

She examined them more meticulously than Jiang Chengning, first pinching a grain, then peeling it open with her fingernail. The rice core wasn't full, but it already had a faint glimmer.

"It can be harvested," she said.

Jiang Xingchuan squatted by the ridge, watched for a long time, and finally couldn't help but reach out to pull a stalk.

Lin Suwen didn't even turn her head, and her wooden ladle tapped the back of his hand.

"Are you here to help or to pluck the lifeblood?"

Jiang Xingchuan retracted his hand and chuckled.

"I was just looking."

"Use your eyes to look, not your claws," Lin Suwen said, then looked up at him. "Is your shoulder better?"

Jiang Xingchuan didn't answer, just lowered his head and smiled.

He had been more stifled than anyone these past few months.

Everyone knew that Jiang Yuhe was openly practicing Qi Refining at Fenchun Terrace, but his Awakening of Insects had to be hidden.

He couldn't show it during the day, and even when practicing techniques, he had to pick a time when no one was on the back slope, stealing moments to tap at straw stacks and wet wood.

The path of Awakening of Insects was fierce; his bones always felt like they were pressing down on a bit of thunder. The less he was allowed to move, the itchier it became.

Fortunately, the "Lesser Start of Spring Guide: Awakening of Insects Chapter" found in the family genealogy was truly useful.

First binding the shoulder well, then guiding the left rib—after a few months, that Qi no longer rampaged like it did at the beginning.

Recently, the "Thunder Bud" in his palm could barely take shape: pointing at wet wood, the wood skin wouldn't crack, but a small patch inside would go numb.

Jiang Yuhe was slower on her side.

Grain Rain was just like that—thick, heavy, and if one could suppress it, it was a Foundation; if not, it was a stagnant illness. She had practiced for these few months and had just touched the edge of "Listening to Rain."

Listening to Rain could draw all surrounding sounds into one's ears, even the faint, chaotic Qi on people, which could be heard clearly.

Every time Jiang Yuhe sat down, that Grain Rain was no longer pressing heavily on her chest like before, but instead spread bit by bit into her limbs and meridians with her breathing. As it spread, the water line in the field would also gently move.

In these few months, the family genealogy hadn't revealed much more.

Having exhaled too much in the beginning, it had to be nurtured slowly afterward.

But Zhou Wang, staying within the book, could touch more and more places.

He had already roughly grasped the Awakening of Insects Chapter and the Grain Rain Chapter.

He was also slowly reading the half-chapter of "Snow Burial Chant" and that form of "Severing Frost Edge" recorded after Qiu Hanshan's death.

That was the path of Winter Cultivation, a branch that carried the intent of death in winter.

The frost intent on the pages never dissipated; when night fell or the wind grew cold, the edges of the paper would quietly turn white. After watching for a long time, Zhou Wang also understood some of the principles of winter.

Winter generally was divided into three paths:

Sealing Winter, divided into Start of Winter and Light Snow, leaning towards sealing, nourishing, and guarding, focusing on accumulation and storage.

Silent Winter, divided into Heavy Snow and Winter Solstice, leaning towards stillness, stability, and restraint, most suitable for storing breath, restraining form, and hiding traces.

Dead Winter, divided into Minor Cold and Major Cold, leaning towards balefulness, finality, and taking life. The path Qiu Hanshan took was precisely the Snow Burial of Dead Winter.

Zhou Wang didn't dare to say for sure whether anyone in the family was suitable for Winter.

But a few times at dawn, when frost pressed on the branches and Shoushan returned from outside, his hands and boots were full of cold air, yet he didn't fear the cold. The small blob of ink under the word "Guard" in the family genealogy seemed a bit colder than before.

Zhou Wang didn't say anything.

If he really wanted to let Shoushan cultivate Winter, he had to wait for the family to survive the current ordeal.

That ordeal was the Autumn Tax.

On the day of the autumn harvest, the Jiang Family harvested a total of eleven and a half dou of Spirit Rice.

It wasn't a large amount.

But for a Cold Household, it was already an amount that made people envious.

The problem was, envy was one thing, but not much actually remained in their hands.

After the Autumn Tax, the Zhou Family took away seven and a half dou as Spirit Rice tax, and less than four dou remained, which was what truly stayed with the Jiang Family.

Ah Shi watched as those bags of Spirit Rice were carried away, his mouth pouting, almost crying on the spot.

"Why doesn't our family eat it?"

The Song Clan hurriedly pulled him behind her.

"Eat what? Save it first."

Ah Shi didn't understand, and neither did Zhao Zhi. The two children squatted behind the door, only seeing that the rice was brighter and more fragrant than ordinary rice, but in the blink of an eye, it was all taken away.

Jiang Chengning didn't coax the children, just tied up the remaining bags and personally carried them into the inner room.

Spirit Rice could catalyze cultivation.

Everyone on the mountain knew this principle.

But the Jiang Family wasn't rich, not rich enough to eat this stuff freely. Jiang Yuhe and Jiang Xingchuan each received a small half-bowl daily, still mixed with grain to cook. The rest had to be saved as seeds, and also to exchange for medicine, talismans, and accounts.

Nowadays, there weren't many times on the mountain when accounts were settled with whole Spirit Stones.

The Main Peak, the market, and the Sect naturally recognized Spirit Stones.

But falling to a place like Duansang Ridge, it was more common to use Spirit Rice and medicinal herbs to barter.

Two days after the Autumn Tax was paid, the sky over the Main Peak turned overcast.

The mountain color of the entire Qingsang Main Peak suddenly faded, as if someone had raised a huge green net outside the mountain, enveloping the entire mountain within it.

That was the mountain-protecting array being activated.

The people on Duansang Ridge were shocked, and then they all looked towards the high ground.

Jiang Chengning was measuring water at the edge of the Gudong Field with the Water-Dividing Green Ruler that day; seeing the mountain color change, he immediately straightened his back. Jiang Xingchuan ran down from the back slope, stood on the ridge, and looked up towards the Main Peak, his eyes narrowed into thin slits.

There were faint figures on the Main Peak.

One green and one black, two figures stood in confrontation across the entire mountain ridge. Higher up, there was a bit of silvery-white light.

Sun Changshui limped along with a crutch all the way to the Jiang Family's field, looking up.

"The Zhao Family is here."

Sun Changshui of Beijian Mouth, a Qi Refining Third Stage Cultivator with a limp leg, guarded half a water mouth to make a living; he was one of the few Cold Households on Duansang Ridge who lived with clarity.

Jiang Xingchuan tilted his head: "The Black Stone Ridge Zhao Family?"

"Who else would crash into the Main Peak's gate at this time besides them," Sun Changshui said.

He didn't say more, just sat on the ridge with his crutch, looking up slowly.

The two figures on the Main Peak moved quickly.

The black one struck first, a thin black line pulling across the air horizontally. The green one didn't retreat, raising his hand to press out a sheet of willow-like green-white lamp shadows.

Jiang Xingchuan only watched for two breaths, and his back went numb.

That night at Old Grave Slope was too chaotic; he hadn't understood how Foundation Establishment Cultivators fought at all. Now, looking from afar across the entire mountain ridge, he felt the gap even more.

The person from the Zhao Family was clearly no match for Zhou Boyan; the black shadow tried to cut to the east side of the Main Peak several times, but was forced back by that lamp shadow.

The two fought for not long before the silvery-white light outside the mountain truly descended.

It was a cloud boat.

The boat was slender and long, pale silver all over, with a round pattern engraved on the prow that looked like a sun but wasn't a sun, like a sundial but wasn't a sundial. There were no wheels or oars beneath the boat, yet it stopped steadily in mid-air, as if supported by the sky.

The people on Duansang Ridge who were looking up went quiet for a moment.

It was Sun Changshui who first took a breath and said in a low voice: "Chengtian Sect."

Jiang Xingchuan hadn't heard of it and turned to look at him.

Sun Changshui looked at the cloud boat, his voice lowering as well:

"Our area belongs to the northern edge of the Guli Circuit, the Guli Mountain territory. Qingsang Main Peak, Black Stone Ridge, Dongping Ridge—these mountain heads are all considered external affiliated mountain gates under the Chengtian Sect."

"The Sect is at Sui Mountain, divided into four peaks—Chunhuang, Zhuming, Jinshang, and Xuanxuan. Sect Master Shangguan Shouzhen is in the Purple Mansion Late Stage. The four Peak Masters are also Purple Mansion Cultivators."

He paused and added: "For us small mountain heads, paying the age tax every three years and sending Disciples every three years are all their rules."

Jiang Xingchuan listened, his eyes not leaving the cloud boat in mid-air.

The sky was too high.

So high that it seemed as if the people on the boat only needed to look down, and everything on Duansang Ridge could be seen clearly.

After the cloud boat stopped, the fight on the Main Peak ceased.

A person wearing silver-gray dharma robes walked out step by step from the boat, not fast, but his feet seemed to step on invisible stairs. He only stood between the two, and the conflict on Qingsang Main Peak stopped.

The person from the Zhao Family retreated half a step and cupped his hands.

Zhou Boyan also retracted his lamp.

What the two sides said, naturally couldn't be heard from Duansang Ridge.

But not long after, someone from the Main Peak passed down a message: All Cold Household leaders and managers of affiliated mountain families should arrive under the Main Peak before the end of the Shen hour that day to receive orders.

Before leaving, Sun Changshui mentioned quietly, "The Feng Family hasn't been stable lately."

Jiang Chengning said: "Which family?"

"The He Family, the Wang Family, they are all watching him," Sun Changshui said. "After Feng Erkui died, the Qi Refining couple, Fifth Feng and Fourth Aunt Feng, can't suppress that piece of land at the lower slope. Earlier, their family and the He Family fought over Spirit produce several times, all suppressed by Feng Erkui with a blade. Now that he is gone, the old grudges have surfaced instead."

Jiang Shoushan silently noted this.

On Duansang Ridge, whoever is weak, their family threshold is the first to be lowered by half an inch.

The Feng Family is weak, so that piece of land at the lower slope will be moved sooner or later.

But there is no delay now; they must go to the Main Peak to meet people.

On the Liu Family side, Elder Liu couldn't get up, so Liu Sanniang came. On the Feng Family side at the lower slope, Fifth Feng came. After Feng Erkui died, he seemed to have lost a circle of weight.

By the time Jiang Chengning returned at night, it was already pitch black.

Hot soup had been left for him in the room. As soon as he entered, he patted the dampness off his body before sitting under the lamp.

Jiang Xingchuan asked the fastest: "What did the Main Peak say?"

Jiang Chengning drank two sips of soup before slowly speaking.

"The Zhao Family brought up the matter of the dead on Guli Circuit to hold us accountable," he said. "They said Qiu Hanshan was their family's guest Cultivator, who came to the vicinity of Qingsang Main Peak to find someone, but the Zhou Family took the opportunity to kill him."

Jiang Xingchuan's hand tightened.

The others in the room also didn't make a sound.

Jiang Chengning acted as if he didn't see, just continued: "The Zhou Family naturally didn't admit it. They said Qiu Hanshan trespassed on Duansang Ridge, hit the Forbidden Ground in the mountain, and died from the erosion of Yin Sha Qi, which had nothing to do with the Zhou Family. The Zhao Family didn't accept it, so they fought outside the mountain."

"The one who came down from the Chunhuang Peak of the Chengtian Sect was Junior Martial Uncle Ge Zhixu. Once he arrived, he first stopped the hands of both sides, and then handled it according to the rules."

Jiang Xingchuan asked: "What rules?"

"Age tax, Disciples."

Jiang Chengning explained bit by bit what he heard today.

The Chengtian Sect comes every three years to collect the annual tribute from each external affiliated mountain gate.

The annual tribute can be Spirit Stones, Spirit Rice, mineral materials, Spirit Medicine, or old artifacts, depending on each mountain head, converted into value and handed over.

After collecting the annual tribute, they also pick a batch of Disciples to go up the mountain as usual.

This time, because the Zhao and Zhou families fought, Ge Zhixu simply advanced both these matters.

The Zhou Family of Qingsang Main Peak provided the age tax as usual, and also sent two young Disciples up the mountain as usual.

The Black Stone Ridge Zhao Family was the same.

Although the Lu Family of Dongping Ridge didn't fight, they were also called to the Main Peak, paid the tax on the spot, and incidentally reported a quota.

As for Cold Households like Duansang Ridge, they originally weren't qualified to send people individually.

But before Ge Zhixu left, he mentioned that the incense fire of several branches under the Main Peak had been unstable in the last two years, and if a good seedling truly appeared among the Cold Households, they could be sent to the Main Peak for examination before the Winter Solstice.

When these words fell, no one in the room immediately responded.

Jiang Xingchuan felt a heat in his heart but didn't make a sound.

Jiang Yuhe also raised her eyes, but quickly lowered them again.

Lin Suwen cleaned up the bowls on the table, went to the inner room to rummage, and took out a cloth bundle.

The cloth was peeled back layer by layer, and inside lay a very small wooden box.

In the box lay two things side by side: one was the small half-bowl of Spirit Rice that Jiang Yuhe had to share daily, and the other was the Water-Dividing Green Ruler that Jiang Chengning had saved back then.

"The ruler must still be guarded," she said in a low voice.

Jiang Chengning nodded.

Neither of these two things could be moved now.

Jiang Xingchuan leaned against the kang and suddenly said: "If Liu Zhaoquan hadn't died, Niubei Hollow would have had a breath of Spring this time."

No one in the room answered this sentence.

Niubei Hollow was originally supposed to be an incense fire spot for next year. If Elder Liu couldn't survive the winter, Liu Zhaoquan would have had to step up. Now that he was gone, the continuation of the Liu Family's incense fire could only be sought from the Jiang Family.

At this moment, the sound of children talking suddenly rang out from behind the courtyard.

Ah Shi and Zhao Zhi didn't know when they had gathered together again, squatting in the bamboo shoot shell pile to pick out small insects.

Ah Shi was slightly older, but his hands were clumsy, and he couldn't pick any out after a long time. Zhao Zhi placed the two small green worms she had picked into his palm.

"For you."

Ah Shi was stunned for a moment, thought about it, and also took out the half piece of candy he had hidden in his sleeve, broke it, and handed it over.

Zhao Zhi didn't take it.

Ah Shi pushed it forward again.

This time, Zhao Zhi took the candy.

Neither of them spoke, squatting by the bamboo shoot shell pile, their heads almost touching.

Lin Suwen saw it through the window but didn't make a sound, only gently covering the window paper by half an inch.

The clan history book at the corner of the table was half-covered, as if it hadn't moved. Zhou Wang, curled up in the paper, pressed everything that happened that day into his heart.

The Main Peak array rose, the Zhao Family questioned the crime.

The Chengtian Sect descended the mountain.

The Feng Family weakened, the Liu Family borrowed incense.

Looking for a vein of Winter Qi for Shoushan.

And deep inside the book pages, under the word "Guard," that bit of ink was colder than it had been days ago.

It grew cold quietly, like the unbroken ice surface on a clear morning in early winter.

Outside the house, the wind rose, and the last drop of water under the eaves fell into the mud with a "plop," and the sky darkened bit by bit along with it.

Winter was coming.