Chapter 1680 - Chatting

Everyone was drawn in by his words. Yun Suji paused, then recited in a singsong drawl:

"Offend the secretary, can't survive; Offend the team leader, get the hardest work to strive; Offend the accountant, get stabbed by the pen; Offend the storekeeper, get cheated by the scale again; Offend the manure digger, three scoops become two in the end!"

The moment he finished, everyone burst into hearty laughter. These farmers didn't know what a "secretary" or "team leader" was, but they could taste the meaning all the same. Yun Suji reflected: there is truly nothing new under the sun.

With this, the distance between them closed. Yun Suji asked about everyone's production situation and whether they had enough grain to eat. They answered eagerly, voices tumbling over one another:

"Grain is enough to eat. Farming here is more than ten times better than back home!" one said. "Crops grow in the fields year-round. Even families who aren't doing well can fill up just eating pumpkins."

"It's truly thanks to the Chiefs for bringing us to this paradise! There's land to farm, enough to eat, and it doesn't freeze in winter."

"The only thing is, we don't really know how to farm paddy fields. Tiandihui's agricultural technicians come too rarely, and they don't visit the fields of small households like us! They only go to the big grain households!"

...

"There's too much corvée labor. Growing rice is already more exhausting than dry land farming. Busy all year, and not even allowed to rest in winter!"

Yun Suji had heard villagers mention the corvée burden more than once and had witnessed it himself, so he asked: "You all say there's too much corvée labor. What kinds of work are we talking about?"

"Everything," Old Yang said. "Building dams, digging canals, leveling land, paving roads... you name it. Even when materials arrive at the dock for the brick and tile factory, they call us to unload! When construction runs out of sand, we're called to dig. When rafts on the Nandu River reach their destination, we transport them too."

"Building reservoirs and water canals is a good thing," Yun Suji said, puzzled. "The land all becomes irrigated—what's bad about it? Suffer first to enjoy later."

"Chief, what you say is correct, but the reservoirs and canals the county has built these past few years have nothing to do with our village. The water doesn't reach our fields. We suffer for others to enjoy! Our village's irrigated land came from the village organizing villagers to contribute labor and materials ourselves."

"Life in the refugee camp was fine back then—couldn't eat the Chiefs' grain for free. But now everyone has a household and livelihood. How can we farm with all this corvée labor on top?"

"The corvée labor is unfair too. Last time we did corvée transporting grain and fodder for the army, the big and small grain households with carts and animals didn't have to work—but they called us to push wheelbarrows!"

"Some households have many laborers but only send one; some have just one laborer, and they're still assigned!"

"Even without corvée, there are plenty of levies. Last month, we were assigned to make military shoes. Regardless of whether your family has women, they assign by head count—two pairs per person! Where does a bachelor like me find someone to make them?" a young man complained.

...

Yun Suji smoked a cigarette and listened to the torrent of grievances. Rural affairs were truly extraordinarily complicated! He was certainly aware that village cadres at the grassroots level were bound to engage in all manner of abuses. The most common complaint among the villagers before him—unfair distribution of corvée labor—alone was sufficient proof that village cadres had problems relating to economic interests. Not to mention the rough tactics and casual violence against villagers he had witnessed with his own eyes. According to the Law Society's standards, all of this was breaking the law.

Yet the village administration he had observed along the way—roads, houses, sanitation, water canals—had all been built through the village organizing villagers. Then there were the decisive reforms in changing customs, like banning foot-binding. In that regard, the title of "model village" was well deserved. Let alone the seventeenth century—even in twenty-first century rural China, Village Head Fan would qualify as a capable and responsible grassroots cadre.

He concluded that the biggest problem was the "corvée labor" the villagers kept raising. Evidently, requiring villagers to perform unpaid labor had become standard practice. They were called to do everything. While conducting farmland water conservancy work during winter made sense, having villagers unload cargo and dig sand on ordinary days treated their labor as worthless. Such arbitrary commandeering of the workforce also disrupted agricultural production.

He pondered for a moment, then asked: "How many grain households do you have here?"

"Not many," Old Yang said. "Just four or five families."

When refugees were resettled, all those placed in standard villages along both banks of the Nandu River were allocated wasteland according to the standard of thirty standard mu per laborer. Tiandihui's tractor team helped clear the land. Refugee families with more laborers naturally received more land.

Although the Senate had not intended to cultivate a class of small owner-peasants with extremely low risk resistance, the material resources commanded by the Lingao regime at that time were insufficient to convert all refugees into agricultural workers on intensive farms. They had been forced to adopt this land-distribution approach for refugee self-sufficiency.

Now it appeared the method had been quite successful. From statistical data and observations along the way, most refugees in standard villages could support themselves while serving the Senate's cause. The surplus agricultural products they provided were one thing; the sheer amount of corvée labor contributed each year was itself great wealth.

However, Yun Suji was well aware of the economic fragility of small owner-peasants. Their current prosperity rested on several factors: the Senate's relatively light squeeze on agriculture; the less acute tension between population and land in Hainan compared to the mainland, with fewer floods and droughts; plus a series of agricultural technology promotions by Tiandihui—only this combination had achieved such comfortable conditions.

In the long run, individual small owner-peasants could not last. Yun Suji was eager to understand the true situation of the "grain households" emerging among the immigrants. He knew that new large farming households had appeared in every village—villagers called them grain households. How had they made their fortunes? What were their specific production and operation situations? No clear investigation report yet existed.

He was about to ask about the grain households when he suddenly spotted Village Head Fan hurrying along the field ridge toward them.

The village accountant had already organized the group heads of each Jia to gather at the village office to meet the Chief, but they couldn't find him anywhere. They checked Kong Xiaode's house, and his wife said he had followed Kong Xiaode to the fields, so Fan Twelve rushed over.

Though he knew Chief Yun had been observed from a distance in Kong Xiaode's field, he saw no idle person there now.

Searching from the east end to the west, then back again, he finally found him. The moment he approached, everyone stopped talking.

He addressed Yun Suji: "Chief, let's go back to the village office."

"All right. You go ahead—I still want to talk with them."

"What's there to discuss with people like them? Let's return to the office! The group heads of each Jia have all arrived, waiting for the Chief to speak."

Seeing the contempt in his manner, Yun Suji wanted to rebuke him. He spoke half-gently, half-firmly: "Talking with them is my job. Go first. I'll come shortly."

Sensing the shift in tone, Village Head Fan didn't dare insist but wanted to hear what they were discussing, so he was reluctant to leave and stood outside the circle. Everyone saw he wasn't leaving; no one dared open their mouth. Like the Eighteen Arhat statues in a temple, they all became mutes.

Observing that no one dared speak because of his presence, Yun Suji guessed they feared his authority. Wanting to drive him away, he asked:

"Who are you still waiting for?"

Fan Twelve mumbled: "Not waiting for anyone." With that, he slunk off.

Yun Suji had considered deflating his prestige further but decided that doing so would undermine grassroots work, so he held back. When the conversation turned to grain households, everyone said these were "capable people"—either because their families had many laborers and the head of household knew how to manage, or because they had made money trading local products. With surplus cash, they hired Tiandihui's tractor team to clear new wasteland and expanded their landholdings. The one with the most already possessed four hundred standard mu.

"With so much land, who farms it?"

"They tether animals and buy machines. One set of machines equals several workers. If they're still short-handed, they hire laborers." Old Yang added meaningfully: "There are always families doing poorly."

"Then who does the corvée labor?" Yun Suji found this strange. "If hired workers are assigned corvée duty, doesn't the employer lose out? Crops wait for no one."

"Once you become a hired worker, you don't do corvée labor." Old Yang smiled knowingly. Those around him laughed. Some young men joked: "I'll go be a hired worker next year too—won't have to do corvée then."

This conversation strengthened Yun Suji's belief that the new landlords in Borang Village had mutually beneficial arrangements with the village head.

Yun Suji and the guards returned to the village office, where Village Head Fan and a dozen "group heads" were waiting in the courtyard. According to the Senate's "Standard Village Organization Method," every ten households in the village were organized into a Jia with a "group head"—similar to the local constable or Baojia system leader.

Seeing the Chief arrive, Village Head Fan hurriedly led the group heads in bowing their respects. Yun Suji waved his hand. "No need for ceremony. I've come to the countryside this time to observe conditions and hear everyone's opinions." He had Village Head Fan bring some long benches so everyone could sit in the courtyard. They all protested "we dare not," but after repeated urging, they finally perched on the benches. Yun Suji pulled over a bench and sat down as well.

Seeing everyone still somewhat constrained, he smiled. "Don't be stiff, everyone. I didn't come here as some Blue Sky Grand Master on a secret investigation, nor to 'guide' work. I came to listen to your thoughts and opinions. Say whatever you have to say. Hold nothing back."

Despite his words, the group heads still hemmed and hawed, not daring to speak. Those who did speak offered only platitudes: "Life is good in Hainan, all thanks to the Senate," and "We will never forget the Senate's great kindness." Noticing several people glancing at Fan Twelve as if waiting for his signal, Yun Suji said: "Old Fan, you speak first!"

Fan Twelve had a guilty conscience. He didn't know what Kong Xiaode had told Chief Yun, nor what those villagers at the field's edge had said. Lost in suspicious thoughts, he suddenly heard Yun Suji call his name. He couldn't help but flinch and blurted out: "I—I didn't do anything!" Only after speaking did he realize he'd given himself away, and his face flushed crimson.

Yun Suji was secretly amused. "You know perfectly well what you've done!" he said sternly. "First, tell me what problems exist in the village's work right now."