Chapter 1357 - Wang Siniang's Home

The Phoenix Mountain Estate General Management Office occupied a cluster of buildings that formed its own small township, laid out along a single flagstone street. Situated conveniently near the main residence and servant quarters, the complex bustled with workshops, warehouses, and shops lining both sides of the road. At its heart stood the operational nerve center: the General Management Office itself—a two-story brick-and-timber structure with arcaded walkways, perched atop a flight of high stone steps. Bulletin boards flanked the main entrance, plastered with various notices, though most tenants and servants walked past without a glance, being illiterate.

From its inception, Zhao Yingong had modeled Phoenix Mountain Estate on modern agricultural enterprise principles. The operation integrated farming, industry, and commerce into a single massive undertaking. He had transplanted the entire management system used by Agricultural Committee enterprises and brought in a core of "politically reliable" naturalized cadres to staff the General Management Office, while gradually elevating capable and trustworthy locals from among the servants to mid-level positions.

Though nominally under Hangzhou Station's authority, the estate's production and operations often followed directives from the Agricultural Committee and Ministry of Light Industry. Zhao Yingong retained final decision-making power over specific operations but rarely interfered in day-to-day production—in truth, he couldn't possibly manage it all himself.

As a foreman, Wang Siniang's interactions with the General Management Office were limited: collecting work orders each morning, submitting tally tokens after each shift, and returning at month's end to receive wages and purchase daily necessities.

One prominent shop dominated the Management Office street—a three-bay, two-story building resembling the comprehensive stores the Cooperative operated in Kaohsiung. It was indeed a branch of the Commercial Department's General Cooperative, stocking every manner of daily goods. The second floor doubled as a small restaurant. The customers were, naturally, all Phoenix Mountain Estate's servants—a population that, together with their families, had swelled to six or seven hundred souls. A small town unto itself.

To ensure stability and control, Zhao Yingong employed no long-term or short-term hired laborers beyond a few essential specialists. Nearly all work was performed by "dead-contract" bondservants carefully selected from among the refugees the estate had taken in. Rough labor and seasonal tasks were filled by refugees awaiting transfer at the riverside camp.

Phoenix Mountain Estate operated as a closed economic system. Every registered member, regardless of age or sex, received monthly wages—paid not in silver or copper cash but in Delong Bank circulation vouchers. A Delong sub-branch on the Management Office street handled wage disbursement, offered savings services, and managed capital allocation for the Hangzhou Station, ensuring every sum remained under effective supervision.

At first, the servants had been somewhat unaccustomed to receiving paper vouchers instead of coin. But seeing the store stocked with abundant, high-quality goods at fair prices, they accepted the arrangement readily. Phoenix Mountain lay just outside the city yet quite far from the commercial district; having such a shop nearby proved far more convenient than trekking into town.

The monthly wages paid to servants circulated through the commercial street and flowed back into Hangzhou Station's accounts—effectively reducing silver usage while bolstering the circulation vouchers in preparation for introducing them to the broader Hangzhou market.

Neither Zhao Yingong nor the Planning Commission were heartless capitalists. Prices on the commercial street were not only reasonable but actually somewhat cheaper than outside. Since the Cooperative's supplies came at wholesale rates, and many items were produced on the estate or shipped from Lingao at internal transfer prices, profit margins remained quite comfortable. Estate residents could also apply to exchange vouchers for silver or copper cash at set rates within certain limits, enabling them to spend outside. But with most daily necessities available on the estate at lower prices, few bothered.

It was now around five-thirty in the afternoon. The street hummed with activity—some shopping, others preparing for the night shift—lending the place an almost festive air. Iron fire-baskets lined the road, already piled with firewood and waiting to be lit at dusk as makeshift street lamps.

Wang Siniang arrived at the Tally Office beneath the eaves of the General Management Office. Its doors stood wide open. Inside, seven or eight clerks clattered away at their abacuses while foremen who had finished their shifts queued with tally books in hand. Daily tally slips would be consolidated for month-end wage payments. She handed over the day's tea-picking tokens. The clerk already had the delivery receipt from the tea factory; once the two matched, he stamped "Verified" on her work slip and handed it back. Foremen kept these receipts to resolve any disputes at payment time.

Wang Siniang was attractive and personable, with a wide circle of acquaintances who greeted her wherever she went. The moment she entered the Tally Office, someone called out to her and immediately took her tally slip. Several clerks seized the opportunity to flirt, making off-color remarks. One even tried to grab her arm while returning her receipt.

"Looking for trouble, are you!" Wang Siniang laughed, slapping the wandering hand away. "This old lady has a man, you know. You haven't given me anything worthwhile, and you expect to eat my tofu?"

Laughter erupted. One clerk said, "There is something worthwhile, Fourth Auntie! The master just sent word—you don't have to work tonight. After dinner, report to the inner residence. He has instructions."

Wang Siniang started. Why would she be summoned to the inner residence at night, for no apparent reason? Before she could gather her wits, a torrent of teasing comments descended upon her.

"Fourth Auntie, with your beauty, perhaps the master has taken a liking to you!"

"Indeed! You're like a fresh flower..."

"Your mama's the flower beauty!" Wang Siniang cursed back cheerfully, carefully tucking her receipt into the small leather-bound record book she carried.

Since she had the night off, she hurried outside, found another woman from her team, gave a few quick instructions, and rushed home.

Her entire family belonged to the "outer yard"—servants engaged exclusively in production and operations, forbidden from entering the inner residence. As such, they didn't enjoy the free meals from the communal kitchen that inner-yard servants received; they had to cook for themselves.

Outer-yard servants received one or two meals from the estate depending on their shift times. Those working past two in the afternoon were entitled to an afternoon snack to prevent hunger from affecting productivity.

When off shift, they were entirely responsible for their own meals. The long working hours meant estate servants often bought ready-made food on the Management Office commercial street. Besides the somewhat upscale Cooperative tavern, there was also a food stall—not a restaurant with seating, just a place selling prepared dishes. Essentially a boxed-meal shop.

The interior gleamed: tiled floors and walls shone under newly lit gas lamps. Display cases with glass covers held lacquered platters of various dishes. Most were vegetables and "small meat" items—minced pork vermicelli casserole, steamed fish, and the like—served with soup, rice, mixed-grain congee, noodles, steamed buns, and assorted pickles.

Customers could take the food home to reheat or eat on the spot—very convenient. The food was clean and well-prepared, making the place popular and bustling. Wang Siniang's family was large, and with both husband and wife working, cooking at home was impossible. So every day she bought prepared meals here.

Regular customers could borrow tin meal boxes for free. Tin was easy to work with and clean; as a base metal, it served commonly for tableware throughout society, from palaces down to small taverns.

Wang Siniang selected some vegetables and some braised snails—the cheapest of the "small meat" options. In the adjacent platter, scallion-roasted crucian carp were piled high, each palm-sized and fragrant. She hesitated, then bought three. Her family had many mouths to feed; just filling stomachs consumed a major portion of their income. She had to be frugal. Fortunately, households with children under sixteen received a twenty-percent discount on meat dishes.

The master was quite caring toward the young. Families with children received four jin of rice free per child each month. School children also got a free meal at the charity school—unlimited rice with dishes of both meat and vegetables.

As the saying went, "A half-grown son eats his father to death." Though Wang Siniang's children were all girls, they were at that hungry age. These benefits kept the household budget from becoming impossibly tight.

Hangzhou was a land of fish and rice, so aquatic products like fish, shrimp, and snails remained affordable. Meat, however, was expensive. Any "small meat" dish with actual meat commanded a high price. As for "large meat" items, very few could afford those.

She hurried home with the food. Her three daughters had already returned from school and sat gathered around the square table doing homework. Though Wang Siniang was illiterate, she had seen clerks and scholars write with brushes held vertically. Yet her daughters used wooden charcoal pencils, writing at an angle. She didn't understand the difference, but the fact that her daughters could now read and write was enough to make her happy. How many landlords' and grain merchants' daughters were still illiterate?

Her eldest had turned fifteen and grown considerably—a development that rather displeased her. The girl was now as tall as her mother. If this continued, she wouldn't fit into hand-me-downs and would need new clothes made. Though the eldest's old clothes could go to the younger ones, those two little ones were growing just as fast.

"Every one of them acts like they've swallowed baking powder," Wang Siniang often muttered lately. She didn't realize that over the past two years, their animal protein intake had far surpassed previous levels, causing them to develop much better than average.

A fifteen-year-old girl should be getting ready for marriage in the old days. Once married, the household burden would lighten somewhat. But now that they were bondservants, the children's marriages required the master's word and approval. She had once tentatively asked Steward Cai about it, only to be told not to think about such things.

"The master doesn't like the girls in the household marrying young. Put this matter aside for now."

Why didn't he like girls marrying young? Fifteen wasn't that young. Wang Siniang reasoned that perhaps the master wanted to select a few girls to serve at his side. So she had tentatively asked whether the inner residence needed to select maids for service. Again she came up empty. Steward Cai explained that the inner residence currently had no female relatives; the master didn't need many maids. The girls should just continue studying at the charity school.

Wang Siniang refused to give up. She probed several more times, even hinting that if her eldest daughter could be placed in the inner residence, she would surely express her gratitude. But since becoming steward, Cai Shi had grown impervious to such approaches. He offered not a single useful word—only, "Let the children study well." Pressed further, he added: "Those who study well will surely benefit in the future."

What benefit could come from a girl studying well? Wang Siniang couldn't understand at all. But watching her eldest grow day by day, she couldn't help worrying. She herself had already been Shen's bride at fifteen! If this kept dragging on, what would become of the girl?

Though she thought this, she usually kept such words to herself.

"Eldest! Clear off the table—we're eating soon. Second, come help me light the stove. Third, go play somewhere and don't get in the way!"

As she spoke to her daughters, Wang Siniang placed the food on the stove to reheat. The stove burned firewood from mountain pruning, allocated monthly to each household on a per-person basis. While tending the fire, her husband Shen Da returned.

He had spent the whole day working in the mulberry orchards on the mountain, his feet caked with yellow mud. He scooped water from the vat by the door, washed his feet clean, changed into house slippers, and came inside.

Seeing his wife had come home early, Shen Da showed no surprise—he had already heard at the Tally Office.

He wore a dark expression, and neither Wang Siniang nor the children dared provoke him. The family ate dinner in silence. Only after the daughters began clearing the dishes did Shen Da speak, saying the master had inspected the mulberry orchards today and wanted to double the cultivation area.

He lit the water pipe the master had previously gifted him and drew on it with bubbling sounds. "Not just expanding the area—apparently they're bringing in someone to teach us how to plant mulberry. Dense planting, they call it. My family has been planting mulberry and harvesting leaves since Grandfather's generation, and now we need someone to teach us? Ridiculous!"

"They'll be from Guangdong again, I suppose." Wang Siniang brewed a cup of tea dust for the head of household—sweepings from the tea storage crates cleared out in early spring, sold cheaply to estate servants as a benefit. Though unattractive, it actually contained quite a lot of fine tea leaves.

"Probably. The new mulberry trees this time, same as last year, were saplings unloaded from ships. I don't see anything special about them. No matter how good Guangdong mulberry is, it can't compare to our local Lake mulberry. I don't know why the master favors it so."

"Fellow countrymen and old friends—there's always some personal connection," Wang Siniang observed. She was well-versed in social niceties and shrewder than her husband. "Look at this estate. Besides Steward Cai, everyone of any importance around the master came from Guangdong."

"True enough." Shen Da blew a smoke ring. "Watching people arrive from Guangdong by ship, wave after wave, to work at the estate—it's very strange. As if the master doesn't trust the craftsmen here. For anything significant, he has to bring people over from Guangdong."

A ship had docked at the pier below the mountain yesterday—the person coming to guide mulberry planting must have arrived. Wang Siniang suddenly realized that tonight's summons to the inner residence might be related to this. But she didn't know how to plant mulberry; she only knew silkworm-rearing. Could they really be starting sericulture this year?

As she was speculating, Shen Da's expression turned hesitant. He took several drags on his pipe before speaking. "I heard the master is summoning you to the inner residence tonight for questioning?"

His expression was not pleasant. Wang Siniang understood perfectly. Being suddenly called to the inner residence for no apparent reason—and at night, no less. She was reasonably attractive; any husband would have to think it over.

"Yes, I've been summoned," she said, then hastened to add: "I think the master is going to raise silkworms this year. He probably wants to ask about the details. When we first joined the household, he asked a lot of questions about sericulture and silk-reeling."

"How is that possible?" Shen Da's expression remained skeptical. "There are scattered mulberry trees up on the mountain, sure, but the proper orchards were only planted last year. We can't harvest leaves this year. Without mulberry leaves, how do you raise silkworms?"

Without their own mulberry orchards, they would have to purchase leaves—a precarious proposition for sericulturists. Especially after the silkworms reached their third instar, they consumed enormous quantities of leaves every day. Market leaves weren't just expensive; supply was tight. If supplies failed, they'd have to abandon the silkworms—all that hard work for nothing. Sericulture households always maintained at least some orchards of their own as a base, supplementing from the market as needed.

Given Phoenix Mountain Estate's situation—relying on scattered wild mulberry trees on the mountainside—there was no way to achieve sericulture at scale. That she was suddenly being summoned to the inner residence... explaining it through sericulture was difficult for him to believe.

"Hard to say. I think our master is someone who can accomplish things ordinary people can't." Wang Siniang smiled. "Mark my words—there will definitely be sericulture this year."

Seeing her husband's expression still uneasy, she added quickly: "We've been part of this household for nearly two years now. Everyone can see what kind of person the master is. Even if something were to happen, I can handle it. Don't worry."

Shen Da let out a heavy breath, as if wanting to say something. His lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing.