Chapter 1269: Wu Nanhai's Daily Routine

"Good morning, Commissar Wu," the two greeted respectfully.

"Good morning to you both." A particularly warm smile spread across Wu Nanhai's face. As he walked inside, he asked, "Old Zhang, I hear your wife is expecting?"

"Yes, yes—thank you for your concern, Chief!" Zhang Xingjiao felt warmth spread through his chest. He hadn't expected the Chief to remember his personal affairs amid such a demanding schedule.

Zhang Xingjiao had only married the previous year and had purchased an apartment from the Agricultural Committee. This poor scholar, whose family had once been shattered and scattered, had finally rebuilt both home and career.

They proceeded along the corridor fronting Wu's Office. One side was entirely glass, offering a clear view of the interior: an open-plan office where more than twenty unpainted white wood desks stood in neat rows, filing cabinets lining the walls in dense formation.

Many people were already hard at work at their stations. Massive blackboards covered the walls, dense with summaries and notices.

"Take her to the General Hospital for a checkup soon. And when the baby arrives, you must treat me to red eggs..." Wu Nanhai arrived at his office door.

"Yes, yes, certainly." Zhang Xingjiao agreed while hurrying ahead to open the door for him.

Wu Nanhai's office wasn't large, but it featured a separate lounge and restroom with complete facilities. South-facing windows admitted bright, transparent light. A staircase at the end of the inner corridor led down to his private side door on the first floor, and up to a roof terrace equipped with tables, chairs, and an awning for resting.

Entering and taking his seat, he glanced briefly at the non-urgent documents and telephone notifications received by the night duty staff. Confirming nothing demanded immediate attention, Wu Nanhai leaned back in his rattan chair, retrieved a daily planner from the drawer, and picked up a pencil.

Wang Tian reported first on the previous day's farm production. October marked the peak of autumn harvest and planting. The farm managed extensive acreage, and Wang Tian shuttled between fields daily, directing the chain of tasks—harvesting, threshing, storage—that kept him constantly on the move.

He detailed the harvest's progress and discussed current bottlenecks. This season's use of horse-drawn harvesters on a large scale had doubled cutting efficiency, but the improvement immediately exposed downstream constraints. The horse-drawn transport teams couldn't move rice to the threshing floor fast enough for processing; they were forced to supplement with shoulder-pole carriers, tying up significant manpower.

Efficiency gains in one link invariably revealed weaknesses elsewhere. Wu Nanhai jotted down several urgent matters in his notebook, made on-the-spot arrangements for issues that could be resolved immediately, then turned his attention to Zhang Xingjiao.

Zhang Xingjiao opened his folder and began his report:

"Chief, over at Chief Xun's side—"

"Old Zhang, when reporting work, refer to the department, not individuals by name," Wu Nanhai reminded him.

"Yes, yes—my oversight." Zhang Xingjiao quickly corrected himself. "The Meat Processing Plant reports that frozen chicken stock in the cold storage will be exhausted within days. Without an improved allocation of live chickens soon, their processing workshop will have to halt production. Chief Xun called to ask whether supply can be provided in time. At the current production rate, the line can only operate until six tomorrow morning."

Three days earlier, chicken plague had struck the farm's poultry operation. Two thousand chickens originally destined for the Meat Processing Plant had been culled and disposed of in a dedicated biogas digester for diseased livestock—fermented there for pathogen-free decomposition. The result had thrown the Meat Processing Plant's supply schedule into disarray.

The outbreak troubled Wu Nanhai deeply. Cases had appeared at both the main chicken farm and the breeding poultry facility, where chick mortality was running slightly high. He couldn't shake the suspicion that a larger epidemic might be developing. He had already dispatched investigators.

"Reply to the Meat Processing Plant that restoring supply tomorrow is not feasible. Ask them to readjust their production plan accordingly." Wu Nanhai had already received the Livestock and Poultry Production Division's report: practically no chickens would be available for slaughter in the coming days, making normal supply impossible. He consulted his notebook. "Estimate that half of originally planned daily volume can resume by October 25th. Full normalization should occur in early November."

"Chief, this is the construction plan for the Breeding Poultry Farm at the directly managed Qiongzhou facility. If there are no further issues, please sign it."

"Has the Biochemical Laboratory completed the epidemic prevention assessment?"

"Yes—it's in Appendix 4."

He examined the assessment, written by Huang Dashan, then took a dedicated dip pen from the inkwell stand and signed his name with proper flourish.

"These are sample agricultural persuasion New Year paintings sent by the Printing House. Please review them." Zhang Xingjiao produced several sample prints.

Agricultural persuasion New Year paintings had become one of the Printing House's flagship products. External sales were robust, and domestic demand was equally strong. In an era when information spread slowly, the promotional impact of New Year paintings penetrated more deeply among ordinary people than any other medium. Few could read, but many could understand pictures. Using New Year paintings to promote the "Australian lifestyle" and new production technologies had proven remarkably effective.

Unlike export paintings that primarily advertised "Australian lifestyles" and "Australian goods," domestic editions—beyond political propaganda—served two additional purposes: popular science education and agricultural technology promotion. Imprinting new techniques and concepts on New Year paintings for distribution had, in recent years, proven one of the most successful outreach methods. Consequently, the Agricultural Committee bore responsibility for providing and reviewing content for agricultural persuasion pieces.

The paintings were drawn by Senators with fine arts backgrounds. Some were original compositions; others were redrawn from materials in the Great Library.

Wu Nanhai took the sample album and surveyed the contents. Twenty themes had been prepared for the 1633 agricultural persuasion series, all printed in woodblock color: "Promote Pest and Disease Control, Win High Agricultural Yields," "Scientific Manure Collection," "Planting Green Manure is Good," "Courtyard Economy Brings Great Profits," "Rice Field Aquaculture," "Don't Waste an Inch—Promote Ten-Edge Planting," "Plant Castor Beans to Contribute to National Industrialization"...

Compared to this year's edition, the new batch showed marked improvement in both color and composition. Wu Nanhai nodded. "No problems. Notify the Propaganda Department we want three thousand copies in the first run, all sent to Tiandihui."

"This is the Jeju Horse Farm report from Chief Nick. He requests another team of veterinarians and animal husbandry students be sent to Jeju Island as soon as possible—no fewer than twenty—along with this list of required medicines and equipment."

Frowning, Wu Nanhai took Nick's report. Whenever Nick made a request, it invariably meant voracious demands for goods and personnel. But horse administration was critical—moreover, the Agricultural Committee now depended heavily on Jeju Island's horse supply. Transported horses had enabled the formation of horse-drawn plowing teams, finally permitting widespread deployment of large agricultural machinery that had previously been constrained by insufficient animals. Horse-drawn teams were certainly safer and easier to use than Bai Yu's First Agricultural Reclamation Mobile Regiment, whose steam equipment was slow and prone to boiler explosions that sent shrapnel and rivets flying.

He commented as he read: "Twenty people? Easier said than done. This veterinary class has exactly twenty students total. If I send them all, what about other locations? And this list..." It enumerated dozens of medicines and medical instruments, some of them controlled materials.

Wu Nanhai deliberated at length, crossing out some rare medicines with his pen, halving quantities for others. Then he annotated after the list of veterinary medicines that could be produced in-house: Please try to satisfy the quantity. He retrieved the departmental stamp from his drawer, applied it, signed, and handed the document back to Zhang Xingjiao. "Have the Copying Room make three copies immediately. One to the Archives for record, one to the Ministry of Health so they can begin preparing according to the list. Deliver the original to the Planning Commission personally and have Chief Wu sign for it."

With various problems and reports demanding attention, the morning passed without notice. Since the ruled territory had expanded to encompass all of Hainan Island, administrative tasks consumed most of Wu Nanhai's time. When Chuqing entered the office carrying a lunch box, he was on the phone with Wu De discussing labor allocations for water conservancy projects.

"...I understand the Wenlan River regulation project represents the big picture—I'm not asking for special treatment. But our demonstration farm's water conservancy work is equally crucial, especially for typhoon prevention... Yes, I know typhoons are rare after October, but we must complete the water conservancy renovation before next year's rainy season arrives. You experienced last year's typhoon yourself. Now all the land along both banks of the Wenlan River belongs to us. If seawater surges back or floods submerge the fields again, the losses will be entirely ours. Any reduction in grain production carries consequences we cannot presently absorb.

"Three hundred people is not enough. At the current rate, we won't finish until the end of next year. I need at least five hundred person-days of labor. I want to finish by the end of June.

"Labor reform teams are acceptable—this isn't high-skill work. Give me another fifty soldiers.

"You have to provide supervisors; otherwise who will catch them if they run? Ten soldiers will do—as long as they have guns.

"Mm, mm, agreed. I'll send someone to handle the paperwork this afternoon."

"Eat first—it won't taste good when it gets cold." Chuqing opened the three-tier stainless steel lunch box, a Wenzhou product from another timeline. She unpacked today's meal: fried rice noodles with seafood miso soup. The noodles were high-quality thin dried sweet potato strands, stir-fried with lard, dried shrimp, broad beans, and shiitake mushrooms. The miso soup contained shrimp meat, tofu, and kelp. Simple and delicious—ideal for a working lunch.

"There's the opening ceremony for the First Fertilizer Plant this afternoon. Are you still going?" Chuqing retained the deferential speech patterns from her days as his life secretary.

"Of course I'm going." Wu Nanhai sipped his miso soup. "It wasn't easy to secure this project. If I don't attend, it would show disrespect to the Planning Commission and the Administration Council. The least I can do is show my face."

(End of Chapter)