Chapter 1682 - The Buttocks Problem

"You farm over two hundred mu, you're a grain household—and yet you still can't gather enough betrothal gifts to get your son a wife?" Yun Suji found this incredible.

"Grain households don't have surplus grain either." Bai Putin smiled, his expression a complex mixture. "Betrothal gifts here are too expensive. One woman costs five or six oxen, tsk tsk..."

"Betrothal gifts are that expensive?!" Yun Suji knew current betrothal gifts were high, but he hadn't expected this degree. Acquiring a large draft animal often required a farmer to save frugally for one or two years. If marrying a wife cost five or six oxen, it would essentially eliminate the possibility of marriage for most men.

He knew that historically, Lingao's betrothal gifts had always been elevated due to the surplus of men over women. The Engine Plan, besides importing labor, was actually partly intended to balance the gender ratio.

According to civil administration statistics, the gender ratio in Hainan had indeed improved. While there were still more men than women, the disparity was no longer so dramatic. Yet at the grassroots level, the betrothal gift phenomenon had actually intensified. Yun Suji realized that the improved living conditions brought by economic recovery had not only failed to suppress the betrothal gift market but had pushed prices even higher. In the past, marrying a wife was merely about having or not having one; now that life was stable and land was available, a wife also meant an additional laborer for the household, greatly benefiting production. For the family marrying off a daughter, the loss was doubled. No wonder betrothal gifts were so expensive.

"Chief, don't laugh at me, but nowadays everyone says it's useless to only raise sons—you need daughters," a group head interjected with an apologetic smile. "Otherwise, you can't afford to marry a wife!"

"What's there to laugh about? Boys and girls are equal." Yun Suji responded firmly. "If everyone only wants sons, where will wives come from? You're all counting on other families to give birth and raise them? Last time the county tried a case of drowning a female infant, the man still stuck out his neck claiming daughters were useless, money-losing merchandise, better drowned and done with. I said: 'If daughters are money-losing merchandise, where did you come from? Isn't your mother, your grandmother, money-losing merchandise? How come they weren't drowned but instead gave birth to a piece of goods like you?' Only then did he have nothing to say."

The group heads chuckled awkwardly.

Yun Suji then asked Fan Twelve: "How many bachelors are there in your village?"

This question stumped Fan Twelve. The numerous ledgers and statistical forms issued by the county were truly overwhelming—just looking at them was annoying. He'd had Han Daoguo fill them in randomly and submit them to meet the quota. But even so, there didn't seem to be a specific ledger for counting bachelors.

He thought for a long while, mentally reviewing all unmarried men in the village, and answered vaguely: "There are many unmarried men, plus some whose wives have died..."

Yun Suji felt his question hadn't been rigorous enough and rephrased: "Focusing only on full laborers in your village, how many don't have wives?"

"Quite a few. Including widowers, close to a hundred."

"So more than half the men here are wifeless." Yun Suji found this number significant. Men without wives was a social problem! Moreover, the countryside differed from cities. In towns, they managed male workers' sexual needs through licensed prostitution with yellow tickets, which addressed certain issues. But in rural areas, marrying a wife wasn't merely about satisfying sexual needs—there was also the necessity of organizing household labor.

Yun Suji then asked Bai Putin how production was going and what difficulties or opinions he might have.

Seeing the Chief was approachable and polite, Bai Putin grew considerably bolder. After a moment's hesitation, he said: "Chief, there's something I don't understand about the Senate's public grain collection. Please don't take offense at what I'm about to say..."

"Oh? Go ahead and speak." Yun Suji was immediately interested. Currently in the newly controlled Hainan territory, following completion of the land re-measurement, the old tax collection model had been completely abolished and replaced with a progressive tax. This new system was very popular among the masses because the burden was transparent.

"This lowly one, I... I..." Bai Putin suddenly felt he had misspoken. Since ancient times, imperial grain and national taxes had been set by emperors and courts. For a common peasant like himself to say he "didn't understand" could easily lead to accusations of "recklessly commenting on state affairs"—that would not do!

Yun Suji encouraged him: "If you have an opinion, just say it. I definitely won't blame you."

Bai Putin steeled himself and said: "This... Chief... isn't it somewhat inappropriate that the more land you have, the higher the tax rate?"

"How is it inappropriate?"

Bai Putin swallowed and continued: "Chief, actually I want to clear more land. Speaking frankly, farming five or six hundred mu would be no problem for me. I also want to take out a loan to buy a big machine like Tiandihui's tractor team has, and tether a few more oxen to pull it. Farming becomes faster, more fertilizer accumulates, and it doesn't consume manpower. Chief Wan from Tiandihui also said clearing more land would bring more support policies. But the more land you farm, the heavier the tax. I've calculated that farming more wouldn't be worthwhile..."

When he said this, several group heads chimed in with their own grievances:

"This progressive system impoverishes hardworking people and just benefits the lazy!"

"There are families with little land and few people who barely manage their fields after planting rice. Whatever harvested rice there is barely requires any tax. Enough for the family to eat is good enough. Meanwhile, we're out there digging mud, cleaning pens, and cutting grass everywhere to accumulate fertilizer. We work ourselves to death farming well, but have to pay several times the tax!"

"Ask them to do a few extra work days, and they act like martyrs. Not doing corvée, they just sleep at home!"

Fan Twelve grew anxious upon hearing this. The corvée labor issue was supposed to be covered up, but unexpectedly, this thoughtless group head had blurted it out directly.

Fortunately, Chief Yun didn't pursue it. He understood that something fishy was going on with labor distribution here. He questioned several other group heads about their production and living conditions and found that most of them were families with more land, stronger labor, and better production situations. These people sat in different seats than ordinary villagers—their interests lay elsewhere.

When these people arrived in Hainan, they had all been propertyless, dependent on the Senate's relief for food and clothing. In just over two years, wealth differentiation had already emerged. Small farmer consciousness, landlord thinking—all had surfaced. Yun Suji sighed inwardly. It seemed the State Council's proposal to "vigorously develop intensive farms" was quite necessary.

He asked some other questions and felt it was enough, then said: "Let's go see the difficult households in your village."

Fan Twelve quickly agreed. Yun Suji came out and saw the young man who had beaten Old Meng earlier hiding behind. He had already learned from the cadre roster that this was the village militia captain and security committee member Liu Yuanhu. He called out: "Liu Yuanhu! What are you hiding from? I'm not a tiger. Besides, even if I were a tiger, I wouldn't eat you, another tiger."

Liu Yuanhu was so embarrassed his face turned completely red. He had to come forward and mumble: "I made the Chief laugh."

Yun Suji looked Liu Yuanhu up and down. In his early twenties, with broad shoulders and dark skin, he was obviously a strong farmhand at a glance—very youthful and energetic, unlike the old fox Fan Twelve. With proper cultivation, he would make a decent cadre.

Even for Fan Twelve and Han Daoguo, he didn't feel they were hopeless. Fan Twelve, as a village cadre, was quite capable, and on the Senate's major policies, he could be described as firmly standing and executing forcefully. Although Han Daoguo inevitably played tricks, being able to organize all these ledgers and data so neatly was already impressive.

"I see you're a capable person, but your methods are too crude. You still need to use your brain more." Yun Suji pointed to his own head. "You can't just rely on impulsiveness."

"Yes, Chief."

"Lead the way."

Seeing the Chief hadn't reprimanded him for his "impudent offense," Liu Yuanhu felt mostly relieved. What he said later made him a bit apprehensive, but there was no time to ponder now. He quickly led the way ahead.

They first came to a household on the west side of the village. Fan Twelve introduced that this household was an elderly couple with a small grandson. Originally there was also a son, but not long after settling down, he injured his foot while working in the fields, and soon after suddenly died.

Yun Suji thought this must have been tetanus, but the only place in Qiongshan that could inject serum was the county health station—let alone the fact that the vast majority of people didn't even know about tetanus.

"...His family's land has no one to farm it: the old man has asthma, his grandson is small and needs to be looked after by his wife. They can only make do with growing some vegetables and minor grains." Fan Twelve introduced.

"Then what do they live on?"

"The land is given to others to farm on their behalf. The substitute farmer takes thirty percent; the rest goes to their family."

"What about the public grain?"

Yun Suji's sudden question disrupted the speech Fan Twelve had prepared. He hadn't expected the Chief would ask this at all. Without time to think, he blurted out: "The public grain is also paid by the substitute farmer..."

"I suppose the substitute farmer also does corvée labor on their behalf?" Yun Suji smiled. "What a living Lei Feng."

Fan Twelve didn't know who "Lei Feng" was, but from the Chief's tone and smile, he knew the Chief didn't believe it at all—just hadn't exposed it to his face.

Yun Suji looked at this elderly couple wearing obviously just-taken-out new clothes, looking at him with fearful faces, and couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. Looking at the child again, only five or six years old, not quite sallow and emaciated but with a very dull expression, completely lacking the liveliness of peers. Looking at this cold and cheerless house, apart from some basic furniture distributed when they moved in, there was almost no furniture or daily necessities. Yet the room was excessively tidy—like the clothes they wore, all just freshly prepared. He didn't bother looking at the pancake stack or grain cabinet; needless to say, they were all full.

Yun Suji casually asked some questions like whether there was enough grain to eat and how life was. The old man also vaguely said: "Life is okay," "The village looks after us."

"Let's go outside." Yun Suji said.

Once outside, Yun Suji said: "Village Head Fan, you didn't tell the truth."

Fan Twelve's heart jumped. He originally wanted to deny it, but thinking of the scene at the public trial in the county last year, he quickly said: "I deserve to die! I deserve to die! I confess!"

"We're not a Blue Sky Grand Master on a private investigation. Just tell me—how much grain does the substitute farmer actually give his family?"

Fan Twelve knew he couldn't hide it anymore and had to say: "The agreement is regardless of good or bad harvest, 800 catties of unpolished rice per year. Public grain and corvée labor are all borne by the substitute farmer."