Chapter 101: Mobilizing the Masses (Part 1)

Throughout the day, they had pushed themselves to the limit—beyond heavy camp-building work, they had gone door-to-door for propaganda, investigation, and inquiries. Though Wu Nanhai's grain was limited, many team members gave out their issued rations: Wu Nanhai's special "Jinhua Flaky Biscuits" and "seaweed rice balls" went to villagers. Doing this made their hearts a little less burdened.

Xi Yazhou paced restlessly, deeply troubled, hand on chin, thinking. To restore production, he first needed to stabilize morale. The village internally lacked food and clothing; externally, it faced landlord and pirate harassment—both problems demanded resolution. External problems could wait for now—but the masses' immediate hunger and cold were hard to solve.

Du Wen broke the tent's silence. "The masses' lives are very difficult. Seeing them this way, we can't just stand by! I propose starting relief tomorrow—also distribute clothes. Women here don't even have clothes—"

"We don't have much capital." Wang Luobin knew their resources well. Wu Nanhai had given only one week's rations for thirty people, plus one day's travel rations—now most team members had given theirs to villagers. This village still had over a hundred households, four to five hundred people. Even giving away all their food would not last one day.

Du Wen said, "Request more trucks of grain from Bairren Fortress—and cloth."

"Grain—Wu Nanhai's reserves aren't much either. Even getting a little, how many days would it last? People must eat daily."

Xi Yazhou nodded in agreement. "Right. We can't just wait for headquarters to figure something out. We must solve this ourselves." He paced more, then asked, "This salt village doesn't grow grain—so how did they eat before?"

"Obviously through salt-sales income or direct exchange."

"Ultimately," Xi Yazhou summarized, "the production order here is disrupted. Salt workers can't earn normal income from salt-making; they can't even guarantee their personal safety—why would they work hard?"

Wang Luobin said, "So we need to—"

"Mm, we must grasp both ends firmly." Xi Yazhou's voice grew decisive. "First, we must find ways to gather grain. With grain, villagers' morale can stabilize, and they'll trust us. Second, we must arm the masses—give them the capability to defend themselves against landlords and pirates." He smiled and nodded. "Yes, just like this! Issue production-essential weapons to the masses; production self-rescue. The salt village has every condition to become one of our strongholds."

"I agree!" Du Wen lit up with excitement at the mention of mobilizing masses. "But—" she frowned, "gathering grain? Where do we gather grain?"

"What is this place? A salt field!" Xi Yazhou waved his hand expansively. "Everyone needs salt. This place can produce nearly a ton of salt daily. With labor—what's there to worry about for food and clothing? Local new grain will hit markets soon. If we can produce salt quickly now, not only can the village feed itself, but we can gather substantial grain for Bairren Fortress."

"Good—let's do it!" Du Wen's eyes shone with excitement. In her imagination, she had become the female team leader in land-reform movies—even sounding like one.

"But salt workers are afraid to work—plus they're hostile to us," Wang Luobin reminded them.

"We must quickly understand why they're hostile. Wang Engineer—you said last time people here weren't afraid of us."

"Yes—strange." Wang Luobin also found it odd. "Last time, though not exactly warm, attitudes were normal. Now it's completely reversed." He paused. "I'm puzzled—the arrests were by some Gou landlord or whoever. It has nothing to do with us."

"Could class enemies here be spreading rumors—like the KMT saying Communists shared wives and property?"

Wang Luobin laughed. "Little Du, you're too imaginative. First, there's no class enemy here; second, we're not Communists—"

Xi Yazhou started laughing too, then suddenly stopped, looking thoughtful. "Actually, there's something to that." He thought for a moment. "This probably involves Landlord Gou."

Wang Luobin said, "We've had zero contact with this so-called Landlord Gou. I was just watching from the dike when his people came to the village. At most, he only knew we'd visited."

"Never mind that now." Xi Yazhou waved his hand, grabbed the walkie-talkie, and called the guard team. "Quick—send a few people with Zhang Xingjiao. Bring that family with the girl disguised as a boy. Right—don't alert others. You know how to do this."

Putting down the walkie-talkie, he turned up the kerosene lamp—the wind generator was not assembled yet—and addressed everyone. "Let's discuss defense." He spread a newly drawn map of the salt-field area on the table.

"Ma'ao Salt Field is flat, open ground—no defensible positions. The village itself has no fortifications. Our enemies: local landlord forces, bandits, and outside pirates. These three forces might even be colluding. If we're stationed here long-term, besides arming villagers, the camp itself needs fortification."

"This temple's decent—the foundation is already here. Pity the building's collapsed." Their current camp was at the village entrance's Ge Hong Temple. This Jin Dynasty Daoist scholar, famous alchemist, and medical-pharmaceutical expert was revered by many salt workers as the salt industry's patron saint. (Note: Whether Hainan salt workers held this belief is unclear; different regions' salt workers seem to have different patron saints.) Years of neglect had collapsed most of the buildings—only stone foundations and crumbling walls remained. The work-team tents were set up on these foundations.

"Build a blockhouse?"

"Bigger than that. We also need to protect the produced salt."

Just then, voices came from outside. Xi Yazhou said, "Du Wen—fetch candy and cups."

"You want candy?" Du Wen was confused.

"We have guests—hurry! If there's not enough, you'll need to comfort that girl."

Du Wen went out. Shortly, guards led in the family, with Zhang Xingjiao following. The two elderly trembled; the middle-aged man seemed reluctant—deliberately dawdling. The cross-dressing girl followed, head down.

Xi Yazhou quickly seated them and served tea. Years in the military plus years as a corporate sales manager—his face immediately became warmly sincere. After the work team's day of propaganda and grain donations, the family's original fear and hostility had somewhat softened.

Hearing the transmigrators had come to the salt village for "rooting out the strong, eliminating evil, protecting the realm, securing the people," their faces showed confusion and disbelief. The burly man snorted and muttered.

Xi Yazhou now understood some Lingao dialect—combined with their expressions, he roughly understood. He gently asked what exactly the transmigrators had done wrong. Zhang Xingjiao translated. The others responded variously—sometimes coldly, sometimes mocking, sometimes angry. Regardless of their attitude, Xi Yazhou maintained his most sincere smile, speaking very politely. After several exchanges, he gradually pieced together the full story.

It turned out Landlord Gou had recently visited the village claiming the "short-haired Masters" at Bairren Rapids had commissioned him to collect 200 yin of salt. He had also threatened that the short-haired Masters' firearms were formidable—if they sent troops, they would massacre everyone. News of the Bairren Rapids battle had already spread here with embellishments. Plus Wang Luobin had indeed visited to buy salt. After Landlord Gou's claims, the already-struggling salt workers grew more desperate—over a dozen households immediately fled. Fearing everyone would run, Landlord Gou simply arrested the village head and clan elders, threatening that no one could leave.

"Outrageous!" Wang Luobin nearly slammed the table. "How shameless!" All the transmigrators present were shocked—this local tyrant they had only heard about from Zhang Xingjiao actually had such tactics!

"This Landlord Gou is truly something." Xi Yazhou smiled slightly. He had somewhat anticipated this—but this using-our-name-to-extort skill was not to be underestimated.

Xi Yazhou immediately explained there had been no such thing. True, they wanted salt—but through fair purchase, absolutely no forced demands. He pointed to the furious Zhang Xingjiao. "Ask this man whose ancestral grave Landlord Gou desecrated!"

Ancients valued ancestral halls and tombs above all—desecrating graves meant deep blood-hatred. At this mention, Zhang Xingjiao flushed red and began speaking to the family, his voice growing more agitated. Gradually the family's expressions shifted.

Apparently, locals communicating with locals was more effective. Plus Zhang Xingjiao was educated—though without formal title, traditional Chinese society greatly respected learned people. From Zhang Xingjiao, he learned that this family was also surnamed Tan—cousins of the village head, Tan Guiqiong. This man was Tan Guihuang. The burly man was their son, Tan Chengqing—salt workers who yearned for nothing but clear skies for salt-making. Tan Chengqing knew some martial arts, was honest, straightforward, and frank in word and deed—quite respected among the village youth.

After about half an hour, seeing the atmosphere was right, Xi Yazhou brought the conversation back. "Friends, I'm very sorry. We're unfamiliar with this area and didn't know Landlord Gou would use our name to extort and threaten. We didn't know your suffering. Now the entire village—men, women, old, young—has no food, no clothes; young women have no pants. We must first find solutions. Let's discuss together: getting grain, getting clothing, ensuring no one worries about food and clothes."

"Is that possible?" The family stared at Xi Yazhou together.

"Yes!" Xi Yazhou affirmed. "As long as everyone works together."

Tan Chengqing spoke up excitedly. "As long as there's a way, we'll spare no effort."

Xi Yazhou, to dispel their long-held despair, emphasized, "We've come to help common people. Once we understand everyone's suffering, we'll definitely find solutions."

(End of Chapter)