Chapter Forty-Five: So I’ve Been an Unregistered Citizen All Along?

Although the family had given him more than enough money this time, Su Lu had no intention of changing his mind.

Upon returning to his room, he said to his father, “I still want to be a day student and bring my meal for lunch. This way, I can save about two taels and five coins a year—a considerable sum.”

“Why not let yourself be comfortable?” Su Youcai slapped the original tael of broken silver onto the six strings of copper coins and gruffly declared, “There’s no need to save money for your old man. Enjoy life while you can—fortune spent returns again!”

Su Lu thought to himself, this isn’t the time for lamenting over poverty.

“Dad, don’t be too quick to celebrate. The greatest mistake in business is assuming the future will be like the past. Anything can happen, and if we’re not careful, our investment could vanish.” He felt compelled to remind his father, newly dizzy with wealth,

“If we’re frugal with these six strings, they’ll cover two years of tuition.”

“Autumn boy speaks sense, but you needn’t worry so much,” Su Tai replied with a cheerful smile. “I’ll start earning money this year.”

He finished, then sheepishly lowered his head, rubbing his fingers together. “If our tavern can still afford to pay wages…”

“I’m just concerned the commute will tire you out,” Su Youcai, ever agreeable, persisted.

“I’ve made the trip several times now, and it’s manageable,” Su Lu replied with a smile. “If I walk briskly, it takes less than half an hour—perfect for exercise.”

“That’s fine most days, but what about when it rains?” Su Youcai asked.

“A green bamboo hat, a raincoat of leaves, a bamboo staff and straw shoes outpace a horse,” Su Lu recited.

“That’s for drizzling rain. If a downpour hits, it’ll sweep you straight into the river,” Su Youcai retorted.

“The academy offers free lodging. If the weather’s bad, I’ll stay overnight—at most pay a little for lamp oil,” Su Lu answered seriously. “Ten coins a month, I can manage.”

“That’s a good solution.” Su Youcai nodded, but another worry arose. “But what about meals when you stay overnight?”

A child without a mother means a father must fret more…

“Dad, these are minor issues, nothing to worry about.” Su Lu couldn’t help but smile wryly. “Besides, I can’t do without Second Brother’s… snoring.”

“Mm-hmm.” Summer boy nodded vigorously, feeling the weight of responsibility.

“Ah, why must you be so sensible?” Su Youcai could only let Su Lu have his way for now.

~~

Despite his words, Su Youcai still wanted his son to eat comfortably. That afternoon, he went to the house of Gao the Camel to buy a bag of bean flour and asked the eldest sister-in-law to mix it with sorghum flour.

“This child always complains that sorghum cakes scratch his throat, but he refuses to eat lunch at the academy,” Su Youcai sighed. “Eldest sister-in-law, try to steam them tastier for him.”

“Oh, Autumn boy is nearly as sensible as Spring boy now.” The eldest aunt beamed. “Don’t worry, I’ll use all my skill to guarantee he gets a different kind of cake!”

Sorghum cakes had three main problems: coarse texture that scratched the throat, bitterness, and hardness.

The eldest aunt had devoted all her intelligence to cooking, and she had solutions for each.

First, she alternately soaked the sorghum in hot and cold water, eliminating bitterness and astringency. After soaking, she dried the grains and roasted them, releasing their aroma.

She spared no effort; after roasting, she ground the sorghum with a small stone mill, then sifted it fine to obtain the needed flour.

When mixing the dough, she added bean flour and millet flour. The bean flour’s oiliness made the cakes moist, while millet flour improved stickiness, preventing the scratchy texture.

Water was crucial: seventy percent boiling water to scald the flour, thirty percent cold water added after, giving the dough both softness and elasticity, so the cakes wouldn’t be hard.

When steaming, as the heat rose, she sprinkled rice wine mash on top, adding fluffiness and preventing dryness…

Thus, all problems were solved, though it did cost the eldest aunt some effort…

~~

Meanwhile, Su Lu was preparing to practice calligraphy, to settle his mind and enter study mode.

But just as he set out his inkstone, his uncle appeared.

“Come, let’s go to the Thousand-Head Office.” Like his son, he preferred speaking from outside the window.

“What for?” Su Lu had to set aside his ink and stand.

“To register your household.” Uncle raised the yellow military register.

“What? So I’ve been a ‘black household’ all this time?” Su Lu was dumbfounded.

“Of course. If you weren’t studying, you’d always be a black household,” Uncle said flatly. “Just like your second brother and young uncle, they’re still unregistered.”

“Why?” Su Lu followed his uncle downstairs. “Do other families do this too?”

“Certainly. Our household has the most registrations in the whole Erlang Beach.” Uncle counted on his fingers, “Your grandfather, me, your father, your eldest brother, and you—five registered members!”

He gestured across the street, “Your eighth and ninth grandfathers’ families each have only one registered person; everyone else is unregistered.”

He spoke without lowering his voice, making it clear the situation was common knowledge—Su Lu was simply inexperienced.

On the way to Taiping Town, Uncle explained the reason.

“It’s simple. Registration requires service. The founder decreed that descendants of military households must serve as soldiers for generations. But now, with peace everywhere, soldiering leads neither to prominence nor fortune, and military duties are as burdensome as ever. Unless you become an officer, living on government pay, everything else must be supplied by the family, and one misstep leads to bankruptcy. Who would want to be a miserable soldier?”

“I see.” Su Lu nodded. He’d been here some time and had never heard a single good word about soldiering.

“In Emperor Hongwu’s day, we were respected—everyone called us ‘military lord.’ Now, we’re despised by people and dogs alike. Many military households deliberately injure themselves to avoid service. Ordinary households avoid marrying into military families, lest their daughters be dragged down, so bachelors abound among us.” Uncle sighed deeply,

“Hongwu’s intentions were good, wanting us to share the nation’s fate, but now we’re dragged so low we’re nearly sitting at the same table as outcasts.”

“Now, the bureaucrats run the military, growing ever more ruthless. They devise every trick to stop us from escaping service—no passing sons to other households, no splitting the family. Our Erlang Su family has eighteen branches and two hundred mouths, all under a single household registration.”

“So, we’re not just a clan, but a true family.” Uncle laughed at himself. “Surprised? Actually, Erlang Beach has only one Su family.”

“Such a big family,” Su Lu remarked, his mind turning. “But isn’t that a good thing? Most people avoid service this way.”

“That’s true, but those bureaucrats won’t let us exploit the loophole.” Uncle spat harshly. “According to the regulations, every ten registered males must supply one regular soldier and one reserve; the rest support them. The more people, the more must serve. We register only when absolutely necessary.”

“So that’s why,” Su Lu finally understood why so many were unregistered. “Doesn’t the court care?”

“Of course. Every ten years, the court checks households and rewrites the military register. When local troops run short, the garrison ‘cleans up,’ dragging hidden people into service.” Uncle sneered,

“But there’s always a countermeasure. Beijing thunders, but by the time it reaches our southwestern mountains, it’s just a fart. So the court, to force us to register, decreed that five registered males allow one to become a clerk; ten allow one to be a scholar. Civil households face no such limit. Isn’t that mean?”

“Indeed.” Su Lu nodded. By his understanding, they needed five males on the register to let one enter officialdom; ten for one to become a civil servant.

“How many have we registered?” he asked, concerned.

“With you and Su Dan, exactly twenty,” Uncle replied. “Too many people, too few registered—hard to explain to all parties.”

“So, among me, Eldest Brother, and Jiao Jing, only two can become scholars?” Su Lu frowned.

“Hahaha, what are you worrying about?” Uncle burst out laughing. “If even one of you three passes the exam, we’ll thank the heavens! If you really all succeed, everyone will scramble to register, to make up the numbers!”

“Heh, true.” Su Lu laughed awkwardly. He was truly dreaming the impossible.

But Uncle, for all his words, couldn’t help but imagine aloud, “If you become a ‘presented scholar’ and then a high official, you can free the family from military status—maybe even become civil or noble households.”

“We have to reach high office?” Su Lu was shocked. With scholar’s exams so hard, he couldn’t dream of reaching that. High office was beyond imagining. “Is that even possible?”

“Certainly. For example, the current Grand Academician Li Dongyang was born military; he’s already freed his family from hardship.” Uncle smiled self-deprecatingly. “Of course, he’s a literary star from heaven, not like us ordinary folk.”

“True.” Su Lu nodded, his eyes suddenly bright.

~~

Uncle and nephew chatted, and before they knew it, arrived at the Thousand-Head Office in Taiping Town.

Hearing they’d come to register, the staff were delighted—another one walking into the net. The hundred-head on duty was unusually enthusiastic, personally escorting them to the registration office.

The clerk in the registration office was all smiles, attentive and polite, nothing like the usual “door hard to enter, face unpleasant, matters hard to settle.”

“Your Erlang Su family is exemplary—just registered one a few days ago, now another.” The hundred-head gave Uncle a thumbs up. “If only everyone were like you!”

“It’s simply our duty,” Uncle replied with a bitter smile, handing over the yellow register. He knew well that, for all the smiles, they were probably laughing at his family behind their backs.