Chronicles of the Qing-Clad Regent

I’m Lin Yan, a workaholic in my previous life and a modern double PhD in public administration and sociology. In this life, I’ve been dropped into Qingchuan County, the biggest mess in the Great Yong dynasty, as a seventh-rank magistrate stripped of real authority. I soon discover the county treasury is so empty it could starve a mouse.

On my first day in office, all three shifts of constables call in sick. The elderly clerk from the household office tremblingly hands me his resignation: “My lord, there’s truly no money in the accounts.”

I glance at the brand-new cloud patterns on his sleeve and smile. “No matter.”

So, you’re trying nonviolent noncooperation with me?

The next day, the “Qingchuan County Office Performance Assessment and Compensation Incentive Plan” is unveiled.

“I’ve drawn up a new Performance Assessment Plan. From now on, your salaries will be tied to your workload.”

“One point for each civil dispute settled; half a point for every tael of tax recovered... The monthly baseline is 100 points. Every point above that earns one tael of silver.”

The decree is announced, and the whole hall falls silent.

The old clerk, who was coughing blood and asking to resign just moments ago, dashes back to his seat and starts working his abacus furiously. The ailing constable captain straightens up, his eyes sharp as an eagle’s. “My lord, Wang the Matchmaker’s missing chicken case in the West Market: I request permission to investigate immediately!”

While the bandits in the neighboring county are still laughing at what they think is a child’s game, I’ve already printed their portraits on “Bandit Playing Cards” and launched a countywide “Report a Bandit, Earn a Reward” campaign.

When the bandit chief is dragged into the county office by his own men, he’s still cursing me. “Lin, you’ve got no honor!”

I adjust my official hat and slap a blank Case Progress Tracking Form down in front of him.

“I’ll hear your grievance. But we’ll uncover the truth by my rules.”