Chapter 2539: Clan Property

Shortly after the meeting concluded, Chen Lin posted a sign in the graveyard bearing the title "Senate Demonstration Private Nansha Cotton Textile Factory Preparatory Office" and began recruiting laborers for construction work.

The "Senate Demonstration" designation had been specifically requested from Chiefs Li and Zou at Chen Xiaobing's suggestion. Its purpose was obvious—to secure a protective talisman for the venture.

With the Preparatory Office established, recruitment for construction workers commenced. Although the professional building team would come from Guangzhou, the project still required substantial manual labor. These positions were reserved exclusively for Chen clan members from Nansha.

The internship group had spent considerable time exploring the area before settling on an unnamed river bend as the factory site. For convenience, they dubbed the location "Factory Bay."

According to Li Guo's on-site survey, the terrain dropped nearly three meters from the upper reaches of the river to this point. The head wasn't ideal, but it would suffice to drive a water wheel.

Once the site was finalized, Zou Feng of the "Textile Worker Four-Man Group" began designing a water wheel to harness the river's flow. He commandeered a well-lit room in the graveyard as his design studio, set up a drawing board and equipment, and threw himself into the work.

Though all four members were classified as "textile workers," their specializations differed considerably. The Senate's textile school couldn't yet achieve the refined division of labor that existed in the old timeline, so adaptations had been made to suit current circumstances. Zou Feng's expertise encompassed textile machinery and factory architecture, with some knowledge of printing and dyeing thrown in—a true jack-of-all-trades.

Zou Feng was the eldest of the group and more methodical than the three young women. Each morning he ventured out to survey and gather data; each afternoon he returned to the design room to draft blueprints.

The women assisted by copying blueprints and handling calculations and paperwork. Their specialized skills would come into play later. For now, besides helping Zou Feng, they drafted process flows and specification manuals. Once factory construction began, they would shoulder the burden of recruiting and training workers.

Zou Feng's design was essentially a localized adaptation of existing Senate plans. Similar hydraulic systems had been installed throughout Hainan numerous times—the approach was well-proven.

The specific plan called for constructing a dam to create approximately two meters of head. As for the water wheel itself, the Senate's industrial archives contained multiple designs, each with distinct advantages and drawbacks. After comparing them against local conditions, Zou Feng selected the breastshot water wheel.

The breastshot wheel operates on a simple principle: water pours into buckets on the upstream side, and the weight of the trapped water drives rotation. Unlike the more common overshot wheel, which receives water from above, the breastshot wheel rotates in the direction opposite to the river's flow.

This design offered key advantages: it could carry away backwater efficiently and didn't require a substantial head to operate.

The pit beneath the wheel required careful construction. Its curved section had to align precisely with the wheel's edge, maintaining a very narrow gap at the bottom. This forced water to remain trapped in each bucket until it rotated to the lowest point of its cycle before discharging.

With the water wheel design settled, Zou Feng turned to the power transmission system—arguably the heart of the entire factory. Without this plan finalized, even the building's dimensions couldn't be determined.

The rotating water wheel would drive a vertical shaft through bevel gears, which would then transmit power via another set of bevel gears to a horizontal shaft known as the "line shaft." This overhead line shaft was standard in all Senate factory workshops. Every piece of equipment connected to it through vertical drive shafts or belts, drawing power from its rotation. The only difference was that most Senate factories relied on steam engines rather than water turbines.

The line shaft's length depended on the number of machines and the production workflow layout. Once Zou Feng determined this, he could calculate the building's length. The width was governed by two factors: the range of machines arranged along the main shaft, and the need to position equipment close to walls so workers would benefit from natural lighting.

The factory building would be brick-and-wood construction. Despite considerable advances in the Senate's steel industry, wood remained one of their most common building materials, and this project was no exception.

Though wood-framed, the main structure incorporated modern engineering. Trusses, beams, columns, floor slabs, and wall panels were all manufactured to standard specifications by sawmills, with custom dimensions available on request.

Zou Feng couldn't claim to be designing from scratch—he was essentially splicing together elements from countless plans he had studied, adapting them to site conditions and specific requirements. This approach made his work proceed rapidly.

The Phase I factory building measured twenty meters long by ten meters wide: a brick-and-wood structure with a sloped roof and attic space. From outside, two rows of windows suggested two floors, but the interior was actually single-story with only a low attic at one end. To maximize natural light, the wall windows were generously sized—some fixed for illumination, others operable for ventilation.

At one end of the building, a small shed was designed to shelter the canal and protect the water wheel from the elements.

Once all designs were complete, the women calculated material dimensions and quantities from the drawings, added a five percent margin, and compiled several order lists. Chen Qing personally delivered these to Wu Yijun in Guangzhou, who would handle the purchasing.

Meanwhile, Chen Lin and Chen Ding spent their days negotiating with the owners of Factory Bay and the surrounding lands to secure usage rights.

The negotiations proved difficult. First, Chen Lin wasn't the clan leader and couldn't leverage clan authority to pressure fellow members into compliance. Second, he genuinely had nothing substantial to offer as compensation. The riverside plots were prime agricultural land, and most holders were reluctant to part with them. Worse, the designated area involved eleven different landowners—nine clan members and two outsiders. The magnitude of the challenge was daunting.

The uncle and nephew commanded respect within both clan and village, so the situation wasn't hopeless. Still, after more than a month of talks, they had reached agreements with only three families.

"This land is proving impossible to buy," Chen Lin muttered. "I've offered triple the market price, and they still won't sell. Do I need to go to ten times?"

Chen Ding was silent for a long moment before speaking. "Simply raising the price won't work. Even ten times wouldn't do it. This land is people's livelihood—their root. Buying it means cutting off that root."

"But they could purchase new land. Wouldn't owning more land be better for them?"

"I've been thinking about this. If I put myself in their position, I wouldn't sell either. These plots are mostly along the riverbank. The embankments and irrigation canals took shape over generations. Barring major disasters, these are guaranteed fields—harvest secured through drought or flood. You offer three or five times the price, but whether they could find land of equal quality is uncertain. Besides, the water conservancy infrastructure represents generations of work. Buying new land means starting those improvements from scratch. No amount of money makes that worthwhile to them."

"Then what do we do? Find a different location?" Chen Lin spread his hands in frustration.

"They spent ages finding this site. If we report that the project has stalled, how will the two Chiefs view us?" Chen Ding stroked his thin mustache. "We need to offer them something long-term. A lasting stake in this..."

"Let them work in the factory?"

"That's no real benefit. Once the factory grows, anyone can seek employment there. How is that special?" Chen Ding dismissed the idea, but it sparked something. "Wait—we could offer shares!"

"Third Uncle! Our entire Chen family holds only one share. How can we give away shares? We certainly can't distribute Master Wu's portion..."

"You know, when I visited Lingao recently, Comrade Chen and I chatted during our free time. He explained quite a bit about Australian commercial law. It was rather enlightening. I have an idea..."

"What is it?"

"You're probably aware that the Australians have issued new directives about clarifying land ownership and standardizing property rights."

"I've heard something about it. But it shouldn't affect us much. Few in the Chen family hold degrees, and we've never engaged in tax evasion through gentry commendation."

"It's not that simple." Chen Ding explained that he had studied the relevant regulations. Several provisions specifically targeted clans.

"As you know, clan land falls into two categories: individual holdings and collective clan property. All of it requires formal rights confirmation this time."

"So we confirm the rights. Could the land deeds possibly be fake?" Chen Lin looked puzzled.

"Nephew, that's youthful impatience speaking. Government documents require careful interpretation."

According to the new policy, clan lands would be categorized separately. Individual property remained with individuals, but assets held under the clan's name had to be converted to ownership by either a "Limited Liability Company" or a "Collective Legal Entity."

"So the Chen Clan's collective lands will inevitably become Chen Clan Company property."

"And then?" Chen Lin still didn't see where this was heading.

"The share Master Wu gifted us should logically be incorporated into this company. We can then issue profit-sharing shares to those whose land we're acquiring, all in the company's name. Let them collect dividends every year, and they'll naturally be willing to cooperate."

"But what difference does that make? Currently, everyone already benefits from clan land income. The annual distribution gives every male head at least something, and families facing hardships receive subsidies..."

"Think bigger! Right now, income from clan sacrifice lands—how it's used, who receives what—all comes down to a word from the Clan Leader or Head of Case. At most, a few elders might voice opinions; everyone else has no say. Whether to give, and how much, is entirely at their discretion. The accounts are murky at best." Chen Ding leaned forward. "Transform it into a proper company, and suddenly you're running a legitimate business. Annual income, retained earnings, operating expenses, dividends calculated by shareholding—everything becomes transparent. Don't you think clan members would prefer clearly defined shares over arbitrary handouts? Which system do you suppose they'd choose?"

(End of Chapter)