Chapter 1268: New Look of the Farm

Emerging from the house, Wu Nanhai found Liu Ashui already waiting in the square outside the residential area's guard post, rickshaw at the ready. This was a research and development prototype from the Ministry of Light Industry's Vehicle Factory—the manpower rickshaw. Only a handful had been produced so far. Without rubber available, the wheels were relatively large, closely resembling the original "Toyo rickshaw" design.

The Vehicle Factory had initially hoped to promote the Dongfeng two-wheeled carriage per Senator Hong's vision—after the Jeju Island campaign, horses were no longer in critically short supply, with large numbers transported to Lingao for service.

But keeping a horse exclusively for pulling a cart consumed space, manpower, and fodder in quantities that made private ownership prohibitively expensive. Even for Senators, it bordered on extravagance. So apart from a few "nouveaux riches" in Lingao, passenger carriages remained confined to official use by various departments.

Yet demand for cheap short-distance transportation remained enormous. Whether public carriages or the Lingao Urban Railway, there was always the "last mile" problem.

Thus the Vehicle Factory settled for the next best thing: designing and manufacturing rickshaws. The structure was simple, repairs straightforward. No fodder required, minimal storage space needed. The puller not only ate less than a horse but could perform other work when not pulling the cart.

They called this model "Type Zero." It incorporated new technologies developed—or rather, restored—by the Machinery Factory, particularly a shock absorption suspension system designed to minimize the bumpiness inherent to hard wheels. Since human power meant limited output from the start, and the new suspension unit added considerable weight, reducing overall mass became the chief challenge for Jiang Muzhi and Li Chiqi.

The two engineers wracked their brains during the design phase, seeking weight reductions wherever possible. First, they switched to steel wheels—lighter and stronger than wooden construction. Being human-powered and intended primarily for road use, the body didn't require exceptional strength. They scrapped the original iron-framed wooden carriage design in favor of hollow iron pipes for the frame. Initially they wove the body from rattan, but water intrusion proved problematic; the improved design substituted bamboo strips.

Standard interior features on the Type Zero included a retractable oilcloth canopy and a bell. The luxury version added a kerosene lamp and a foot bell. Because the luxury model's tail sported a gleaming golden five-pointed star as its logo, it earned the nickname "Gold Star Type Zero."

Wu Nanhai found the vehicle quite satisfactory. His work demanded constant travel between fields, creating substantial need for short-distance transportation. The bicycle he had previously ridden belonged to the Agricultural Committee fleet. With agricultural technicians multiplying and daily work intensifying, monopolizing an already scarce public vehicle for personal use had grown awkward. So he simply ordered a luxury version as private conveyance.

The dormitory area lay a considerable distance from the Agricultural Committee office—equivalent to walking from one end of the farm to the other. The Nanhai Experimental Farm housing the Agricultural Committee had expanded dramatically over the years. Seizing the opportunity presented by the last typhoon's destruction, the Committee had annexed swaths of scattered land, extending fields all the way to the school grounds around the county seat and consolidating everything into a single contiguous holding.

With land secured, the Experimental Farm embarked on major construction, adding substantial new infrastructure. The Agricultural Committee's directly managed Nanhai Farm now encompassed nearly a dozen entities: rice farms, dryland crop farms, vegetable bases, economic forest plantations, orchards, tropical crop gardens, medicinal herb gardens, nurseries, freshwater aquaculture farms, livestock breeding farms, poultry breeding farms, breeding stock and poultry farms, spawn farms, crop breeding farms, biochemical laboratories, sewage treatment plants, pesticide and fertilizer experimental factories, tea factories, veterinary stations, and more. A dairy farm and vegetable garden had been established specifically to serve the General Office and its Senators.

With so many units and such a concentration of farm workers, a thriving satellite town had organically formed along the Wenlan River.

The rickshaw turned onto Agricultural Committee Avenue, the main thoroughfare of the entire Nanhai Farm. Four branch roads radiated from it, connecting every unit and institution across the property. After years of development, the farm's population had surged, and commercial activity along this avenue had grown correspondingly vibrant. Most of the newly constructed commercial premises lining both sides were now leased out, bringing considerable income to the Agricultural Committee.

The shops had already removed their boards for morning business. Wu Nanhai sighed with a touch of regret. He had originally envisioned establishing a Rural Commercial Cooperative under the Agricultural Committee, but the Executive Committee, determined to curb departmental self-dealing and "small and complete" operations—and to eliminate the seeds of enterprises running parallel societies—had decreed that only state-owned commercial enterprises under the Ministry of Commerce and private businesses could conduct commercial operations.

It seemed only the Tiandihui system—that "government-guided non-governmental cooperative organization"—offered a viable workaround. Wu Nanhai calculated his options. Ye Yuming had approached him several times about expanding Tiandihui's business scope. Perhaps it was time to move forward.

Though only half past seven in the morning, stalls were already being set up along the street, and peddlers bearing carrying-poles had begun hawking their wares.

Every peddler's pole displayed a uniformly made standard wooden sign—the mobile vendor business license recently introduced by the General Administration of Taxation. Any peddler roving the streets of towns within Lingao County was required to carry one.

Colors distinguished permitted activity areas: red allowed selling throughout all zones, yellow restricted hawking to the county seat, blue permitted sales only in East Gate Market, and so forth. Depending on industry and territory, vendors paid a fixed daily business tax ranging from seven to twenty cents in circulation coupons.

A calendar was affixed to the back of each license. For every day tax was paid, the collecting police officer stamped the corresponding date. Taxes could be remitted daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly, or annually, each option carrying different discount rates. But if arrears exceeded three days, offenders faced the Public Security Court. Under the "Interim General Principles of Tax Law," they would be sentenced to punitive labor in the camp—the number of days equal to three times the days of tax evasion. The peddlers had consequently developed an enthusiasm for paying in advance.

The rickshaw rolled along the road. Once past the farm's residential area, Agricultural Committee Avenue opened up again on both sides. Farm workers, carts, and machinery heading to their assigned locations crowded the thoroughfare. As far as the eye could see stretched carefully maintained fields, irrigation ditches, and windbreaks. Each time Wu Nanhai passed in the cart, he made a point of observing whether roadside land was being fully utilized and whether basic farmland infrastructure—windbreak forests, ditches, roads—remained in good condition.

Liu Ashui walked as if his feet had wings, and soon the Agricultural Committee compound appeared before them. The office grounds had recently been expanded, with several new two- and three-story buildings added. The complex now formed a "田" character layout. The street-facing side housed offices for the Agricultural Committee, the Experimental Farm, and Tiandihui. The rear building contained the biochemical laboratory directly under the Agricultural Committee and warehouses for Class I and II controlled agricultural items—managed, as usual, by Planning Commission personnel.

Wu Nanhai cherished this place. Over the years he had continuously worked on greening the surroundings, planting economically valuable trees, fruit orchards, and bamboo groves in abundance. Flower beds had been established as well—in addition to ornamental plants, he grew various culinary herbs: oregano, basil, thyme, perilla...

Years of cultivation had transformed the Agricultural Committee and Farm office area into a haven shaded by trees and fragrant with fruit blossoms. The lotus pavilion nearby displayed leaves reaching toward the sky while ducks played in the water. The setting possessed genuine natural beauty. Nestled within this pastoral scenery sat the Nanhai Café. Wu Nanhai harbored a small private motivation as well: the chapel he had built with his own hands was hidden among the bamboo groves here. Besides hosting small-scale religious services, it served as his private retreat—a villa of sorts where he occasionally brought Chuqing to rest and savor rare moments of tranquility.

Entering the Agricultural Committee compound, Wu Nanhai dismounted from the cart, thanked Liu Ashui, greeted the worker sweeping the courtyard, and walked steadily toward his office.

Wu Nanhai held multiple positions, but his most important "primary duty" was People's Commissar of Agriculture. He oversaw agricultural affairs and held ministerial rank, entitling him to attend State Council meetings. In the Lingao regime, a Senator wielding high position and heavy responsibility meant facing endless work. Wu Nanhai therefore required a substantial administrative staff to help manage specific affairs, forming a sizable team known informally as "Wu's Office."

At that moment, Zhang Xingjiao, director of Wu's Office, and Wang Tian, deputy director of Nanhai Experimental Farm, stood waiting at the office door with file folders in hand, as was their daily custom.

Both Zhang Xingjiao and Wang Tian numbered among the earliest naturalized citizens. Since defecting at Gou Family Village, Zhang Xingjiao had contributed greatly to the Senate. Yet he had never held a fixed position, serving primarily as translator and consultant. Eventually Wu Nanhai requested him specifically: Zhang Xingjiao was a scholar who could read and write, came from peasant stock, and had personally participated in agricultural labor. He was passably qualified as a writer and general clerk for the Agricultural Committee. As for Wang Tian, when the farm was first established, he had been the head of the farm workers and captain of the production team—a capable and competent "foreman" by any measure. Over the years, Wu Nanhai, Wan Lihui, and other agricultural Senators had taught him agricultural science and technology hand by hand, then sent him to cultural training courses. Wang Tian had met expectations and earned a Grade B diploma. Wu Nanhai appointed him deputy director of the farm with responsibility for daily production operations.

Yet Wu Nanhai was not entirely satisfied with either of them. As "re-educated" adults, their concepts and thought patterns proved stubbornly resistant to complete transformation. Though absolutely obedient, execution inevitably suffered distortions—sometimes they simply could not grasp what was required. In comparison, he placed greater hope in young people under twenty coming out of the administrative training classes. But they remained somewhat green and needed time to toughen up.

Note: The names of Jin Wushun and Liushun in Section 45 were reversed and have been corrected.

(End of Chapter)