Chapter 1681 - Symposium

Fan Twelve detected hidden meaning in the Chief's words, yet his face remained wreathed in smiles—a bad omen. The four personal guards standing at the courtyard gate meant that if the Chief shouted "Seize him!", he'd be hauling his luggage off to dig sand. Hot and cold sweat broke out simultaneously. He stammered for a long while without uttering a single coherent word, his body trembling involuntarily.

The village accountant, quicker-witted, jumped in. "Village Head Fan is having a malaria attack right now and can't speak clearly. Allow me to explain."

"And you are...?" Yun Suji asked.

"I am the village accountant, Han Daoguo." The accountant rose with an obsequious bow.

"Ah, the accountant." Yun Suji knew that in grassroots organizations, though the accountant wasn't technically an official, he was a pivotal figure. Cadres relied on him both to do work well and to play tricks. His understanding of village conditions far exceeded that of ordinary cadres. Observing this accountant's demeanor—clearly from a shop-assistant background, speaking the new language with a southern accent—he said: "Very well, let's hear what you have to say."

"Yes, Chief!" Han Daoguo bowed, cleared his throat. "Our village is a model village in the county. This is entirely due to the excellent leadership of the Senate, the county, and the township..." He glanced at Yun Suji's expression and quickly got to the point. "As for problems, there are quite a few. Currently, the biggest complaint from everyone is that there's too much corvée labor."

"How much is too much?"

Han Daoguo produced a small notebook from his pocket, licked his finger to turn a few pages, and replied: "Reporting to the Chief: take last month, for example. Our village contributed a total of 1,566 labor days. Last month was still the busy farming season, so assigned labor was relatively light. In ordinary times, it exceeds 2,000 labor days!"

Yun Suji calculated silently. The village had 192 full laborers. That meant last month, on average, every laborer contributed more than eight days of labor. If ordinary months exceeded 2,000 labor days, that would be more than ten days. Even during the busy farming season, laborers in this village had to contribute two days of labor per week. In ordinary times, it approached three days per week.

Yun Suji had studied political economic history, which discussed how corvée labor exploitation of peasants by landlords in serfdom manors generally reached a threshold at three days per week—exceeding that essentially made life impossible for the people. Moreover, from his earlier conversations with villagers, he knew labor distribution here was unequal. Some people evaded their duties, so their share inevitably fell on other villagers, making the burden far heavier than these numbers suggested. The farmers' complaints were entirely understandable.

He nodded slightly. "That does seem excessive!"

Seeing no objection, Han Daoguo grew bolder. "As for this month, it counts as the slack winter season—though actually, Chief, as you've seen, it's not that slack. A county notice has transferred half our village's laborers to the construction site for a full month."

"Excluding winter slack and busy farming seasons, how much corvée labor is there on average per month?"

"Around two thousand."

Yun Suji pulled out a fountain pen and noted the data in his notebook. He asked again:

"What kinds of work are assigned?"

"Everything. Repairing water conservancy and building roads are the bulk." Han Daoguo continued: "Planting trees, unloading cargo, transporting timber, digging sand, moving soil... if it's physical labor, we get conscripted for it."

"Where do the assignments come from? What procedures are followed?"

Fan Twelve had calmed down somewhat by now and hurried forward to answer: "The county assigns, the township also assigns, and so does the mine. The procedure is just sending a notice."

Yun Suji knew "the mine" was the Jiazi Coal Mine, a state-owned enterprise directly under the Planning Committee. This mine not only supplied low-quality lignite to Lingao but also shipped large quantities of mining by-products like coal gangue to Qiongshan for processing into building materials—substantial cargo throughput.

"What about the counterpart department? Which department issues the work orders?"

"In the county, it's the Human Resources Section. The township just issues notes with an official seal—that's it." Fan Twelve added: "At the mine, the mine office issues notes. Once the notice arrives, people must be arranged. Not going isn't an option."

Yun Suji thought this was far too casual—a textbook case of abusing civilian labor.

"Are meals provided for corvée labor?"

"Meals are provided. It's just hard on clothing." Fan Twelve explained: "One set of clothes gets worn out after a single trip to the construction site. Now for county labor, the county provides some subsidy, which helps compensate somewhat."

"Have there been any accidents during corvée labor?"

Fan Twelve hesitated before answering: "Yes..."

"How many casualties? Any permanently disabled?"

"One death, three disabled." Fan Twelve quickly added: "The county gave compensation. Life is manageable."

"Can the disabled still work?" Yun Suji pressed. "What arrangements has the village made for them?"

This put Fan Twelve in difficulty. He stammered: "Arrangements... there's always something..."

Han Daoguo swiftly intervened: "For these families, the village decided to arrange people to farm on their behalf. During holidays, the village supplements with grain and cloth. Life is manageable. We definitely won't let them freeze or starve."

Yun Suji thought such arrangements seemed acceptable, but Fan Twelve's vague responses made him suspicious of Han Daoguo's claims. He decided to visit these households later.

Just then, a group head stood up tremulously and spoke: "Chief..."

Seeing it was an elderly man, Yun Suji said: "Grandfather, sit down and speak. Please, sit."

"Thank you, Chief." The group head settled back. "Corvée labor—we accept it. Tighten our belts a bit, and we can still finish the fieldwork on time. But now there are all these additional tricks..."

"What tricks?"

The old man glanced at Fan Twelve before continuing: "First, there's night school. People are sent from the county to 'eliminate illiteracy.' Classes at night. Literacy is a good thing, but everyone works all day and must work again the next day—everyone wants to rest early. Yet attendance is mandatory—studying from lamplight until the first watch. It's fine for children, but for an old man like me, couldn't I be excused...?"

"I see. What else?"

"There are too many various study classes," the old man said. "My son spends seven or eight days a month studying and meeting at the county. Farm work at home piles up; his wife has fallen ill from overwork. Going to meetings is worse than corvée labor—corvée labor at least provides meals, but study sessions require bringing your own pancakes!"

"What work does your son do?"

"He's the village's Tiandihui liaison."

Yun Suji nodded and turned to ask Fan Twelve: "Are there many people in the village who regularly attend meetings and training sessions?"

"Originally not many. Recently, the county organized training for village children—mostly fourteen or fifteen-year-olds. Batch after batch, gone for half a month or a month at a time."

Fourteen or fifteen-year-old children, regardless of gender, counted as half a laborer in the countryside. Being gone for half a month or a month was indeed a real loss for household labor.

Yun Suji asked the old man to sit down. Others then mentioned various disguised forms of corvée labor: making military shoes and washing or remaking old military uniforms; collecting castor beans; preparing meals for troops and laborers by having women make pancakes. There was also annual militia training and countless other demands.

"We really do work all year round—busy from the moment we open our eyes, and when we go to sleep, a pile of corvée awaits." The group heads complained in chorus. "The common folk aren't willing, but the county and township push hard—there's no refusing!"

Seeing the Chief absorbed in conversation with the group heads, Fan Twelve said "I'm going to relieve myself" and walked out of the courtyard. He didn't actually go to urinate but instead called Liu Yuanhu, who was "maintaining order" outside, and spoke urgently: "Yuanhu! Hurry to those accident households and get them prepared! Find them good clothes to wear, fill their grain stores, and make sure they don't talk nonsense! The Chief might visit shortly!"

Liu Yuanhu acknowledged the order, then said: "The other families are easy to handle. What about the Cao household? That old hag has always opposed us and definitely won't say anything agreeable."

Fan Twelve decided: "Lock her up somewhere for now. When the time comes, just say she went to visit relatives. There's no one else in her household anyway."

Liu Yuanhu was about to leave when Fan Twelve stopped him again: "Remind the neighboring families not to talk nonsense! Also, you must coach the families who rent these people's land: don't say 'rent'—say 'substitute farming.' After harvesting grain, only keep thirty percent as a labor fee! The rest goes to the original owner. Understood? Don't get it wrong!"

"Got it!" Liu Yuanhu agreed and hurried off.

Having briefed Liu Yuanhu, Fan Twelve returned to the courtyard. He heard Yun Suji smiling and saying: "So you're a grain household? I was actually hoping to speak with a few grain households. Getting rich is a fine example to follow."

Fan Twelve saw that Yun Suji was addressing Bai Putin and relaxed considerably. Old Bai was not only extremely "tactful" but also habitually cautious—he wouldn't talk out of turn.

"Supreme Dao Jewel Heavenly Worthy!" Bai Putin was a devotee of New Taoism. He was fervently grateful to this religion that had saved him from death's door and delivered him to the "Blessed Land." Whenever he spoke seriously, such phrases emerged. "Here in Hainan, the world is peaceful, and making a living and getting rich is easier. This is all due to the blessed fortune of the Senate."

"How many people are in your household? How much land do you farm?"

"Replying to the Chief: the family consists of my wife, two sons, and two daughters. We farm over two hundred mu of land—eighty mu was distributed by the Senate, and the rest was cleared with Tiandihui's help. I cleared some myself too."

"A flourishing household indeed." Yun Suji nodded. "How old are the children?"

"The eldest son is twenty, the youngest seventeen. The eldest daughter is thirteen, and there's a little daughter born here in Hainan, only two years old..." Bai Putin's voice caught as he spoke. "Originally there was a younger son, who died on the road alongside my mother during the exodus."

Yun Suji nodded. No wonder he could prosper: with three males in the family, all able-bodied laborers, the daughter counting as half a worker, and a wife still young enough to bear children, there was no burden of elderly dependents.

"Has your son taken a wife?"

"A match has been arranged. Having just harvested the grain, funds are tight, so we couldn't produce the full betrothal gift at once. We put down a deposit first. After selling grain and local products, she'll join the household after the first lunar month."