Throughout Chinese history across various dynasties, the "base support" has never been lacking; this is almost a phenomenon that has persisted for thousands of years. Many people often say, "The emperor's policies target the wealthy, not the common people." You've probably heard similar remarks. For example, some say that the Ming Dynasty collected commercial taxes to restrict merchants, unrelated to ordinary citizens. But the truth is, that's not quite accurate.

In the 21st year of Hongwu, Xie Jin submitted a memorial to Zhu Yuanzhang, addressing a very practical issue: some lands are fertile, others are barren; good years and bad years affect harvests, which are inherently inconsistent from year to year. However, the court did not tax based on actual conditions; instead, they set a total tax amount—this much to be collected this year, and how to collect it was left to local officials to distribute.

This led to such a situation:
In good years, officials say you have a good harvest and should pay more;
In poor years, officials claim the tax amount was already fixed, and the same amount must be paid regardless.
No matter the harvest, the state's revenue would not decrease.

The so-called "commercial tax" was not only targeted at merchants. Tea, Sichuan pepper, silk, and other products had to pay taxes at the place of production; during transportation, each checkpoint required additional taxes; when entering towns for trade or stay, taxes were levied again. Even if not traveling far and just selling locally, taxes still applied.

Apart from a few items like farming tools and books, almost all goods were within the scope of taxation.

In reality, this was more like a layered toll system—repeated taxation aimed at the entire population, not a system specifically targeting merchants.

Xie Jin pointed out that the consequences of this approach were very clear: some people died, some fled, fields were abandoned, and yields declined, but the tax amount remained unchanged; the burden could only be carried by those who remained. Over time, this led to the phenomenon of "reduced land but unchanged taxes," making the common people increasingly impoverished.

Nominally, the merchant tax was one-thirtieth, but in practice, no one actually calculated the value of goods or yields. The officials sought not fairness but certainty—so long as the total amount could be collected. Whether individuals could bear the burden was not considered.

The reason is simple: taxing based on actual yields requires investigation, accounting, and a large workforce, which incurs high administrative costs; fixed quotas are the easiest and most stable method.

Xie Jin's proposed reform was not complicated—tax according to yield, with refunds for overpayment and supplements for underpayment, so that common people would no longer be burdened by layers of bureaucracy. But while such a plan would benefit the people, it could not guarantee stable revenue for the court nor reduce administrative costs.

Therefore, such proposals were destined to be rejected.

Throughout history, what repeatedly appears is not the ideal of "taxing only the wealthy," but a more pragmatic logic: when the system primarily seeks fiscal stability, the costs often ultimately fall on those with the least bargaining power.

What truly matters to question is never the name of the tax, but who bears the cost.

Because of this, a common phenomenon in history is that policy rhetoric often targets a minority, while the actual impact trickles down layer by layer. The upper classes pursue fiscal certainty and governance convenience, while the lower classes bear all the risks of uncertainty. When people only remember the "who is targeted" narrative but ignore "who bears the cost," the true outcome of the system's operation is easily obscured.