Chapter 292: Sweet Port Turbulence — Countermeasures

"Liao Dahua mentioned he's already secured a courtyard in Xuwen's county seat. If it truly comes to it, we can flee into the city." Wen Tong raised Liao Dahua's suggestion.

"That's defeatism," Chen Tianxiong said. "No matter how important the South China Factory is, we don't necessarily have to martyr ourselves for it. I think Bei Wei and Liao Dahua should discuss together and prepare an emergency escape plan—who goes, whom to take..."

The factory housed several hundred people. Bei Wei had brought only two or three team members, and the escort agency could dispatch at most a dozen men. Protecting everyone during an escape was obviously impossible. Fortunately, the opposition mostly wanted the transmigrators' heads—they probably wouldn't massacre ordinary employees.

"Send the Wen brothers and the women away first. Women are useless here. The Wen brothers cost me considerable effort to train; their deaths would be a waste," Wen Tong said. The key was that these people lived with the transmigrators daily and genuine affection had developed. "Also the key sugar factory personnel and their families." He shook his head. "But we've just rallied public sentiment. If we do this, when South China is restored in future, morale will collapse."

This was self-evident. Once trouble erupted, sugar factory employees would inevitably suffer casualties, while their leaders and favored subordinates had long since hidden in safety—nobody would appreciate such an arrangement.

Contemplating this, everyone felt rather dejected. Xiao Gui said: "I feel doing this is somewhat selfish—even despicable." He noted that since they were currently counting on employees to exert themselves defending the sugar factory, but planned to abandon them when the moment came, South China's reputation would be utterly ruined.

"I think," Chen Tianxiong said, "the Wen brothers shouldn't be evacuated either. They're our crucial channel for communicating with locals. Additionally, the women shouldn't go. To preserve morale."

This implied sacrificing pawns to protect generals. Everyone understood that keeping a few female servants at the sugar factory served no purpose—but at least it demonstrated attitude. Everyone in the sugar factory knew these women were the masters' concubines.

Xiao Gui had originally admired Chen Tianxiong's composure and methodical approach, but now he disagreed somewhat. "Even worse," Xiao Gui said. "What we should be considering now is how to defend the South China Factory—not planning escapes, much less preparing rhetoric to deceive employees afterward!"

These words carried righteous conviction, and everyone fell silent. Wen Tong's face cycled through shades of green and white. "Fine. I have a gun anyway. If I stake my life, at worst I'll be the first to enter Cuigang."

Cuigang Cemetery—no transmigrators were buried there yet. Saying he'd be first to be interred there was obviously spoken from wounded pride.

Chen Tianxiong remained unruffled. "The sugar factory must certainly be preserved as far as possible. But if workers truly fight their way to our doorstep, even risking our lives might not save it."

Bei Wei asked: "What's the third point?"

"Third is gathering intelligence—obtaining a clear picture of the overall situation. Though I don't favor blowing Third Master Zhu's head off, preparations should still proceed. If matters truly become impossible, rather than letting him blow our heads off, we might as well strike first." At this, everyone allowed themselves slight smiles. "Besides Third Master Zhu, who else is key? What are their attitudes? Everything must be investigated, including their complete backgrounds. That way, whether we fight or pull strings, we'll have a plan. Otherwise, even if we wanted to commit murder and arson, we wouldn't know where to find the targets!"

"This is reasonable." Bei Wei agreed. "Send all the Qiwei people out to investigate."

"Qiwei's people are already gathering intelligence outside. Since we now have clear targets, I'll instruct Liao Dahua again." Wen Tong said.

"With precise intelligence, things become manageable. If all else fails, we'll trouble Old Bei to handle it. This task is somewhat 'dirty'..."

The "dirty" meant that unlike wars between states with legitimate causes, this was purely a struggle over benefits. Asking Bei Wei, who came from a proper military background, to engage in underworld operations—Chen Tianxiong worried it might weigh on his conscience.

"No need for such words," Bei Wei said. "Since we came to this timeline, we must consider the overall situation of the Transmigration Group."

"Good—those words are enough." Chen Tianxiong said. "Actually, I have another idea—pulling the firewood from under the cauldron. But I'm not entirely confident."

"Pulling the firewood from under the cauldron" meant lobbying the sugar mill workers preparing to revolt. Whether through enlightened appeals or substantial bribes, as long as they didn't rise up, the matter was more than half resolved. But the current situation remained murky, leaving Chen Tianxiong uncertain where to begin.

"Since they lack work—why not hire them all?" Mei Lin said. He grew excited, as if discovering a new continent. "If we pay wages, I refuse to believe they'll still cause trouble."

"Originally that would have worked, but we're too late." Wen Tong was somewhat deflated. "Right now the sugar factory doesn't lack hands. What would we hire them for? We can't support them for nothing."

"Even if they're idle, it's fine—at least it serves stability maintenance!" Mei Lin said. "Besides, two hundred or so workers at twelve taels of silver per person annually amounts to just over two thousand taels."

The idea wasn't bad. Though it smacked of buying peace with money, it was always a more feasible approach.

Chen Tianxiong nodded. "Your saying this gives me an idea. Leave this matter to me. I'll definitely pacify all the workers."

Everyone was startled, not knowing what clever scheme he had devised, but his mysterious demeanor suggested considerable confidence.

"However, this requires everyone's cooperation—especially Wen Tong's." Chen Tianxiong said. "But I have eighty or ninety percent confidence of success—at minimum, it can create internal chaos among them and delay the disturbance by several days."

With the plan decided, Wen Tong asked: "What about sugar transport? Shipping to Guangzhou is urgent, but how do we solve the security issue?"

"Yes—either request the Executive Committee to send escort vessels, or we must arm all Gaodi Shipyard vessels with weapons and soldiers. But that would be complicated."

"No matter. I have an idea, though it requires Executive Committee assistance. It's like this—"

With plans set, everyone proceeded to their tasks. Chen Tianxiong discussed privately with Wen Tong for a while, then immediately summoned Liao Daxing and asked numerous questions. He also requested a list of sugar factory employees who were formerly sugar mill workers, carefully noting what each had done—sugar boiling, fire stoking, or general labor. He also had Wen Xiu bring all the "confessions" written by workers during the "Anti-Corruption" movement, comparing them one by one, staying occupied for an extended period.

Wen Tong found this peculiar and asked: "What's all this for?"

Chen Tianxiong said: "Plainly stated, it's nothing remarkable—just the old trick of inciting mass against mass."

The method Mei Lin mentioned of hiring all unemployed workers would indeed have been excellent "firewood removal" if implemented a month earlier. But now it was somewhat late. The unemployed workers were evidently organized with designated leaders—leaders most likely controlled by the Haiyi Guild. Offering jobs now probably wouldn't earn the unemployed workers' trust. Even if the other side were willing to negotiate, their demands would likely be absurd.

"Consider this: the unemployed workers are already like arrows notched on bowstrings. If we suddenly declare willingness to provide jobs, if you were an unemployed worker, what would you think?"

"Naturally, I'd think the other side was frightened."

"Precisely," Chen Tianxiong nodded. "This would make them recognize their own power—right now, these people haven't thought that far."

"So it would actually promote their unity."

"Heh, exactly." Chen Tianxiong smiled. "So the first task is dividing them. Though spoken of as one body, sugar mill workers actually comprise several types."

Wen Tong knew this. Sugar boiling masters had the highest technical requirements, so every sugar mill was headed by one. Next were fire stokers, who controlled fire intensity according to the boiling master's instructions. Both categories possessed technical expertise, and their incomes were correspondingly highest—especially during crushing season, good masters earned quite substantially. Everyone else was simply unskilled labor.

"Whom do we pull in, and whom do we strike?" Wen Tong asked.

"In your opinion?" Chen Tianxiong suddenly kept him in suspense.

Wen Tong said: "Generally speaking, it's always better to recruit people with skills. First, skilled people are useful once recruited; second, they carry greater voice within the group. But we don't need their skills—"

Chen Tianxiong nodded repeatedly. "Correct—Old Wen, your mind works faster than mine. Initially, I also wanted to start with the sugar boiling masters, but later realized it wasn't appropriate—" he first complimented Wen Tong, "...the price to buy them would far exceed buying ordinary workers."

These people had "seen the ocean"—their income expectations were correspondingly elevated. South China couldn't recruit them without substantial outlay. If the expenditure was high, it not only cost money but would also create dissatisfaction among current sugar factory personnel. Comparing both sides, losses outweighed gains.

In contrast, general laborers only wanted rice to eat, clothes to wear, and families not starving. Though numerous, actual costs were modest, and psychological expectations were low. Proper placement could satisfy them—they might even feel grateful.

As long as stable rice was assured, even with numerous complaints, no one would willingly become a rioter. Both Chen Tianxiong and Wen Tong understood this principle clearly.

Some wanted to riot; some didn't. This hastily organized worker group would inevitably experience internal conflict. Supplemented by other measures, dissolution would be simple. Though Third Master Zhu was the hidden hand, he wasn't a Communist after all—labor movements weren't his specialty.

As for Chen Tianxiong seeking the list of sugar factory workers, Wen Tong understood. They had no connections among the sugar mill workers, so they could only use people already in the factory as intermediaries—people who had formerly shared the same pot.

"You wanted the confessions—presumably to send those whose 'vulnerabilities' we control? They can't betray us, and they'll have to give their all."

"Correct," Chen Tianxiong said. "However, those who wrote confessions are mostly sugar boilers and fire stokers. Very few general laborers—they lacked skills, so loot-sharing never reached them."

"That there aren't any is actually good! At least their character is sound."

"True. I've selected a few. I'll meet them shortly to assess their adaptability. I'll have them go out for activities tomorrow morning."

Chen Tianxiong also planned to conduct activities himself, but didn't mention this yet. First, he didn't want to cause worry; second, he wanted to demonstrate his abilities before everyone. Beyond others, though Bei Wei was merely a special reconnaissance team captain, he was a core member under the Executive Committee. Making a strong impression would benefit future development considerably.

Early the next day, Chen Tianxiong set off with Zhou Shizhai. He had already learned passable Leizhou dialect in Lingao—not particularly standard, but sufficient for communicating with locals. Moreover, his relatively dark complexion, combined with local attire, made him look convincingly "Ming Dynasty."

Originally, Liao Dahua wanted to send Qiwei's most skilled martial artist from the Leizhou Branch as escort, but Chen Tianxiong chose Zhou Shizhai instead. Compared to others, Zhou was obviously more reliable, and having been in Lingao for an extended period, he also understood the transmigrators' methods—requiring no additional explanation.

Their objective was visiting Lin Zhuang. Qiwei's people had easily determined he was the unemployed sugar mill workers' leader. They also knew he had visited the Haiyi Guild several times.

"Lin Zhuang's skills are average," Zhou Shizhai said. "Primarily, he's 'outgoing'—speaks well, maintains minor connections with various Xuwen circles. So among sugar mill workers, he counts as a leader. He was publicly recommended as spokesman for the lawsuit last time."

"What's his character like?" Chen Tianxiong asked.

"A decent person," the escort replied. Of course, this man wasn't inherently bad, but his social inclinations had inevitably fostered certain vices. Eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling—he had a share in all, so he couldn't save much money. Consequently, at over thirty, he remained unmarried, still a bachelor.

Lin Zhuang was a bachelor, so naturally he kept no proper household. Currently, he was lodging at the Zou Monk Temple. The temple surroundings now swarmed with unemployed sugar mill workers and their families, preparing to descend on South China to demand satisfaction. Going there to find him involved certain risks.

"No matter. Nothing ventured, nothing gained." Chen Tianxiong was thoroughly confident. Since Lin Zhuang had vices, he wouldn't be a person of firm principle. Buying him off had excellent prospects. Even if that failed, simply spreading word of today's encounter in colorful detail would suffice to destroy whatever modest prestige he possessed.

A snake cannot move without its head. Remove this backbone, combine with the strategic action of "mass fighting mass," and this hastily assembled rabble would dissolve immediately. Cleaning up afterward would become far simpler.

The two arrived before the Zou Monk Temple and observed that this was quite a substantial establishment—because Monk Zou was the sugar industry's patron saint, and Leizhou's sugar industry was prosperous, the Zou Monk Temple had been built particularly well. Originally, this was also where the Haiyi Guild staged annual thanksgiving operas.

But at this moment, inside and outside the temple, crowds dragging families thronged everywhere. The corridors overflowed with lodgers. Adults shouting, children crying—as lively as a market. Some were reasonably dressed; others were virtually in rags, resembling refugees.

(End of Chapter)