Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 41

41: I’ll Definitely Discuss It with You Next Time

By the time Yun Jingchu woke up, it was already 7–9 AM. After washing up and having breakfast, she went to check on the birthday gifts for Fan Zhuzhu to see how the packing was coming along. Qingyu, being reliable as always, had already packed everything into locked chests.

Since the packing had been completed late the previous evening, and the lord and lady had remained in the main chamber, Qingyu hadn’t reported immediately. Now that Yun Jingchu had come to inspect, she quickly unlocked the chests for her review. Once Yun Jingchu confirmed everything was in order, they were locked again, and the keys were handed over.

Keys in hand, Yun Jingchu instructed Qingyu as they walked back, “Go inform Zhang Sancheng and the others who came with us—if they have any letters or items to send back to Kaifeng, they must bring them before nightfall.”

After Qingyu left, Yun Jingchu summoned Wei Shier and two other servants. Wei Shier, who had been attending Tian Qingyi, was puzzled by the sudden recall—until the other two servants arrived, deepening his confusion.

Yun Jingchu, who had been playing chess alone, set down the pieces and straightened up. “Madam’s birthday is approaching. The young master and I have prepared gifts, but we don’t trust outsiders to deliver them. So, Wei Shier, you three will take them.”

“We’ll ensure the gifts arrive safely!” The three servants pledged eagerly, their faces brightening at the prospect of returning to Kaifeng. Huating County wasn’t bad, but it couldn’t compare to the capital.

After further instructions, Yun Jingchu dismissed them. She wasn’t overly concerned about embezzlement—strict laws deterred it, and her choices were deliberate. Wei Shier, a servant of low-status, was physically no match for the other two commoner-status servants, whose families remained in Kaifeng. Even if tempted by wealth, they’d weigh the consequences. Where could they even flee?

In the Zhong He Hall, with Wei Shier gone, Zhou Ba took over menial tasks like ink grinding. Though inexperienced, he mimicked Wei Shier’s motions decently—though the ink quality suffered.

Tian Qingyi, however, was too preoccupied to notice. To her, ink only needed to be functional. Her rare breaks were spent wondering what Yun Jingchu was doing, leaving no room for trivial concerns.

During the morning meeting, Tian Qingyi raised the issues of street filth and illegal street vending she’d observed the previous day. She tasked Clerk Li and Sheriff Wu with drafting solutions promptly.

Even Kaifeng, with dedicated municipal departments, struggled with such problems—let alone regional towns. In their experience, cleanup campaigns only happened ahead of inspections.

Was an inspection imminent? But none had been announced, and the last one was just months ago. Besides, the magistrate wouldn’t withhold such critical information—they’d be ordered to prepare.

The only explanation was Magistrate Jiufang’s personal distaste. Recalling his fastidious habits—dozens of handkerchiefs daily, multiple outfit changes, sometimes two baths a day, even toilet incense—they exchanged glances. No wonder he kept his distance when they sweated.

At noon, Tian Qingyi promptly returned to the rear residence, leaving Zhang Sancheng no chance to speak. Fortunately, Qingyu intercepted him with Yun Jingchu’s message, sparing him a separate trip.

That night, as Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu prepared for bed, a servant reported that Wu Xiaoliu had been beaten. Tian Qingyi was baffled—she didn’t recognize the name among her staff or the yamen’s. It must be one of Yun Jingchu’s people.

Turning, she saw Yun Jingchu’s grim expression. Yun Jingchu swiftly arranged for a doctor and sent attendants to care for Wu Xiaoliu.

Furious, Tian Qingyi declared, “Daring to assault your servant in broad daylight is a slap to my face and the law! Who did this?” She moved to question Wu Xiaoliu, but Yun Jingchu stopped her.

Once the servants were dismissed, Yun Jingchu explained the situation. Tian Qingyi listened, torn between frustration and concern. “A’Dan, I know you meant well, but don’t do this again. This magistracy isn’t worth risking your safety. If I lose the post, we can still live comfortably in Kaifeng. There’s no need to engage with lawless people who might harm you.”

The Pu family’s audacity—evading taxes and ruling Huating like despots—hinted at powerful backers. Tian Qingyi had initially avoided confronting them, but tax shortages threatened her position. She’d decided to test their influence: if they could have her dismissed, so be it; if not, their downfall would set an example for governing Huating.

Seeing Tian Qingyi’s displeasure, Yun Jingchu reassured her, “Don’t worry—I never showed my face, and Wu Xiaoliu won’t talk. Next time, I’ll consult you first. But I didn’t expect them to resort to violence. We’ll need more guards when going out, in case of retaliation.”

Wu Xiaoliu’s last report had mentioned the Pu family summoning relatives after their messenger returned. The relatives had entered cheerfully but left grim-faced. Yet no one anticipated an attack.

With Yuanqi still tending to Wu Xiaoliu, the two prepared for bed. Tian Qingyi’s hot bath left her sweating anew, and she only cooled down in the ice-chilled main room. She urged Yun Jingchu to wait until the bathroom cooled before bathing.

Before Yun Jingchu could bathe, Yuanqi returned with Wu Xiaoliu’s report: “He suspects he was spotted earlier. At dusk, as he changed positions, Pu family members ambushed him, accusing him of theft. No one intervened. His leg was broken—the doctor says he’ll limp even after healing.”

Behind the privacy screen, Tian Qingyi’s frown deepened. A beating was one thing, but a broken leg? The Pu family had gone too far. She could only hope they’d sent trackers—if so, she’d make them regret it the moment they slipped up.

The injury reminded her of Liu Daniang, now in Khitan territory. She wondered how the family fared and prayed for Shi Wan and Ruoshui’s safe journey. Yet she worried if the funds she’d given them—a monk’s certificate, two 50-strings of cash, five taels of silver, and two strings of coins—were enough. Traveling abroad was costly, especially with tasks to complete. She should’ve given more.

Yun Jingchu, equally stunned by the severity, finally said coldly, “I’ll write to Kaifeng to send his family ten strings of cash. Tell him to focus on recovery—use the best medicines and food. You oversee this. Dismissed.”

“Yes.” Yuanqi was astounded—ten strings for a leg that wasn’t even lost? Compared to stories of abusive employers, serving under the lord and lady was a blessing. She resolved to serve them faithfully.

By early July, the salary vouchers arrived at the yamen. Though the yamen employed hundreds, only three—the magistrate, clerk, and sheriff—were entitled to salaries. The vouchers, issued by the court, detailed payments in cash and goods, along with collection locations.

As Huating belonged to Xiuzhou, salaries were collected at Xiuzhou’s official granary. After discussions, Tian Qingyi, Clerk Li, and Sheriff Wu agreed to send servants and ten archers as usual.

This was Tian Qingyi’s first salary since transmigrating. Reviewing the entitlements, she marveled—no wonder scholars idealized the Song Dynasty. Civil officials were pampered.

A Song official’s post comprised:
– Rank: E.g., (Court Judicial Reviewer), a capital official (8th–9th grade).
– Title: E.g., (Academician of the Dragon Diagram Hall), reserved for experienced Doctoral Graduate graduates. Tian Qingyi, being new, lacked one.
– Assignment: Actual duties—hers being magistrate.

Capital officials weren’t necessarily capital-based—they were lower-ranked. Court officials (7th grade and above) were higher but didn’t all attend court. The lowest selected candidates, also called local officials—those who might never rise beyond county posts.

The bureaucracy was more complex than Tian Qingyi had imagined. Even after studying Jiufang Xin’s notes and Zhang Sancheng’s explanations, she still found it convoluted. For instance, unlike the Ming-Qing era’s “seven-rank sesame official” stereotype, a Song magistrate’s status varied by county size and location.

Counties were classified by:
– Size: Ranging from metropolitan counties in the four capitals highest magistrate ranks to sub-1,000-household counties with only a county magistrate.
– Assignment flexibility: A magistrate could be a high-ranking official or a lowly official candidate—some even served as chief, clerk, and sheriff combined.

Officials received salaries in:
– Cash: 20 strings monthly for Tian Qingyi.
– Clothing
– Grain
– Tea, wine, and kitchen supplies
– Firewood and charcoal
– Salt
– Retinue rations
– Horse fodder
– Subsidies
– Office fields: Half of Huating’s office field income went directly to her.

Even her servants and horses received allowances—modest but better than nothing.

Tian Qingyi assigned Zhou Ba to collect her salary. Clerk Li and Sheriff Wu also sent trusted servants. After seeing them off, it was nearly noon, so they dispersed.

Monetarily, 20 strings was only five more than her original self’s monthly allowance and matched her current one—hardly impressive. But factoring in benefits, the total was substantial—and this was without graft.

Though stationed away, Tian Qingyi still received her family allowance—raised to match Jiufang Qiyu’s 20 strings monthly since April. If she and Yun Jingchu were home, they collected it; otherwise, it was withheld until their return to prevent mismanagement.

Tian Qingyi returned to the rear courtyard in high spirits to dine with Yun Jingchu. After the meal, she enthusiastically shared some news, prompting Yun Jingchu to tease:

“You’re this elated over a monthly salary under fifty strings of cash? When I gave you two hundred strings, I didn’t hear you say a word about it.”