Chapter 2414: The Fundamental Problem

"Nobody is actually starving to death," Chen Lin said. "But the common people's lives are much worse than before."

As long as a Nansha villager bore the surname Chen, their days had been reasonably comfortable. Even the poorest families could eat their fill and clothe themselves. When sick, the clan paid for medicine; when dead, the clan provided a coffin. During ancestral worship and New Year, they could even receive a few pieces of ancestral pork.

For tenant farmers, weavers, and long-term laborers who weren't surnamed Chen, life naturally wasn't so comfortable—but they could at least scrape by.

Yet on this trip home, after only a few days, Chen Lin could see that life around Nansha had grown hard.

The looting by soldiers and bandits was certainly the main cause, but his Second Uncle could fairly be called an accomplice who fanned the flames.

However, Chen Lin dared not voice these thoughts to the female Senator. One thing was clear: Li Yao'er trusted Second Uncle deeply, and this trust wasn't naive credulity. Second Uncle's actions as the local Baojia obviously enjoyed Australian approval.

In the days since his return, Chen Lin had already learned much of the situation from his sister and from Chen Qing's family, where he was staying.

When Nansha formally came under Australian jurisdiction in April 1635, Chen Xuan had leveraged a chance encounter during his flight—along with years of social experience honed in various unsavory circles—to ingratiate himself with the Australian Chief he met. She was "overjoyed" with him. Before long he became the "Liaison Officer" in Nansha, then assumed the position of village Baojia—essentially the village chief.

His rise to power was hardly popular. Whether clansmen or ordinary villagers, everyone looked down on this former "prodigal son" and "local ruffian." Many elders had declared Chen Xuan becoming Baojia "the biggest joke under heaven." If he merely served as intermediary with the Australians, the village and clan could tolerate it. But if he actually tried to meddle in clan affairs, they would convene in the Ancestral Hall to expel him and wouldn't even allow him to remain in Nansha.

But Chen Xuan proved a ruthless character with methods of his own. Shortly after assuming the Baojia position, he organized all the outsiders—long-term and short-term laborers, hired workers who had always occupied the village's lowest rung—into a militia unit. He specially selected four brawny strangers who were big and strong, new arrivals in Nansha with no local connections, to serve as his personal bodyguards. Each carried a Pudao broadsword. They usually stood guard at the village office and accompanied him as attendants when he went out on business. Anyone who dared talk back to Chen Xuan received a beating with sticks—regardless of which branch of the clan they belonged to or which generation. All were beaten bloody just the same.

As a result, neither clan nor village dared challenge Chen Xuan's authority anymore. Far from expelling him, they were forced to make him the Ancestral Hall Manager, controlling all the clan's property and affairs. He even openly occupied the Ancestral Hall itself as his village office.

Chen Xuan understood perfectly well that his power in Nansha depended entirely on the Australians. Since becoming Baojia, he had been nothing short of "enthusiastic" about every task the Australians assigned. Whether collecting "Reasonable Burden" taxes, dispatching corvée labor, or implementing "public security rectification"—whatever the Xiangshan County Government handed down, he executed with full vigor. Within months, Nansha became a "Model Village" known even to Chief Wen.

Being a Model Village came at a price. When the Senate became embroiled in a security war across Guangdong, a large National Army force was organized in Guangzhou. Their provisions and pay, besides being shipped from Lingao, came largely from the counties under the former Guangzhou Prefecture.

Beyond grain requisitions, logistics and transport required substantial manpower and boats, which were apportioned to each county and village through corvée dispatch.

Under Great Ming rule, the land tax burden in Guangdong had been very light—only 2.01% of the national land tax burden. Though the Three Surcharges levy plus various local surcharges had increased it, for powerful local clans like the Chen family who controlled the grassroots and wielded considerable county influence, it hadn't been too burdensome.

But for the Senate, Guangdong's taxes were simply too light. According to Director Wang and others, the current land tax had "great potential" and was worth "deep mining." This "Reasonable Burden" was not so reasonable for the Chen clansmen of Nansha—it smacked of extortion.

This wasn't the Chen family crying poor for sympathy. After all, the soldiers and bandits had wreaked havoc on Nansha, causing heavy losses to the Chen family's accumulated wealth, both public and private. Now facing Reasonable Burden expenses and corvée dispatches, they genuinely struggled.

In the past, many government burdens—especially corvée—had been transferred to the village's outsiders. But now outsiders held power and advocated "equal dispatch of corvée." The Chen family had the most male laborers, so they naturally received the heaviest corvée assignments.

Between the Reasonable Burden and the frequent corvée dispatches, agricultural production in Nansha suffered. Added to this were widespread rumors that the Australians intended to implement "375 Rent Reduction" and "Progressive Taxation," leaving the Chen clansmen as nervous as startled birds, unwilling to invest effort in their fields. The outsider tenant farmers certainly had something to look forward to, but farming often required loans. Previously, lending to tenant farmers had been reliably profitable, and their loan requests were approved on demand. Now the Chen landlords mostly refused, citing heavy losses from the bandit raids—which was partly true, and partly because the rumors of "burdens" plus "rent reduction" had sapped their interest in land management. Quite a few middle and upper-class families with commercial properties in the county seat or elsewhere simply left, entrusting their land to the clan. Surprisingly, a considerable amount of Nansha's land lay fallow.

Nansha spent the entire year in this atmosphere of doubt and unease. Farmers couldn't get loans; renting oxen and buying fertilizer became difficult. Combined with heavy corvée demands, the year's harvest proved only mediocre despite fair weather.

The rumored rent reduction and progressive tax never materialized, but the Reasonable Burden increased substantially. Though Chen Xuan handled Australian duties capably, he had no ability in economic development and relied entirely on "strict collection" to gather the year's taxes. Two rounds of Reasonable Burden collection in a single year had nearly emptied the Chen families' savings.

But Chen Lin dared not say these things to Li Yao'er. To speak honestly, she bore part of the blame for the villagers' predicament: just to repair Fenshenghe and restore production, the "corvée" requiring villagers to provide their own rations while burning bricks and transporting timber had drawn bitter complaints.

He pondered for a moment before speaking diplomatically: "The villagers had just suffered the soldier chaos last spring, and their savings were wiped out. The spring silkworms were ruined too. Every family's vitality was severely damaged..."

"Are you saying the current burden on Nansha's people is too heavy?" Li Yao'er smiled.

Chen Lin's face reddened. Having his thoughts seen through so easily embarrassed him, and he feared offending Second Uncle. He quickly said: "After great chaos, the people are hungry and weary. If they could be given some relief, it would benefit both state and people."

Li Yao'er cocked her head and studied him with interest, making Chen Lin's scalp tingle. Fortunately, the gaze didn't last long. "How many days have you been back in Nansha?" she asked.

"Two... two days..."

"Then how do you know the burden on Nansha's people is too heavy and their savings are all gone?"

Cold sweat broke out on Chen Lin's forehead. He was terrified of implicating the elder who had written him the letter, Chen Qing's family, and his sister. "This humble one also heard it through hearsay," he said in a panic. "Just hearsay..."

"Don't be afraid," Li Yao'er said. "Though you heard it through hearsay, you weren't making things up. The people of Nansha have indeed borne considerable burdens this past year. Some families' savings have indeed been emptied..." She emphasized "some families" with pointed meaning. Chen Lin broke out in another round of cold sweat.

"...However, surely no one here is so poor they can't afford to eat?"

"This... indeed there isn't..." Chen Lin nodded hurriedly.

"It should be said that in Nansha now, some families' lives aren't as good as before," Li Yao'er said. "But for some common people, life is probably better than it was."

"Yes, yes..." Chen Lin agreed hastily.

Li Yao'er changed the subject: "However, the Senate didn't come to Nansha just so everyone could have food to eat and call it done. We want everyone to live better than before. The silk factory before you is the hope—if Fenshenghe's enterprise succeeds, the people will gain more than just food and clothing."

"Yes, this humble one understands." Chen Lin laughed bitterly to himself, thinking you're just drawing cakes to satisfy hunger! It was true that Nansha's people currently had food—but they were eating through their old savings. If Second Uncle was allowed to continue wreaking havoc, they wouldn't even be able to afford to raise silkworms this year! What silk reeling and satin weaving would there be to talk about?

He had originally just been giving perfunctory answers to Li Yao'er's questions, still being cautious. But now the youthful passion in his heart stirred, and he ventured some advice: "What the Chief says makes sense. It's just that New Year has already passed. After spring begins, people need seeds for spring plowing, families without oxen need oxen, and families raising silkworms need capital... After the soldier chaos, all trades are desolate. I'm afraid everything requires management and organization. Please may the Chief take note..."

Li Yao'er was startled. When she came to Nansha, she'd been told it was "a prosperous village." So she hadn't paid much attention to village conditions. Her own activities there with her guards and student had been superficial; she roughly knew the village had suffered from bandit chaos, but assumed that people getting by with food and clothing wasn't a problem.

Since food and clothing weren't an issue, and agricultural production had operated normally in 1635, after Nansha rested and recovered for more than half a year, this year's production should proceed without trouble. Her promotion of new silkworm seeds and mulberry tree planting should be a natural progression. Yet this young man was saying everything "required management"?

She hesitated. "How was last autumn's harvest? When I came to Nansha, everyone said there were no disasters and the harvest was fair."

"Chief, this humble one doesn't know how the entire village's harvest fared. But just the land under my family's name—last year's yield was only sixty percent of the year before. Though I don't know about other families, roughly it's probably similar."

Li Yao'er's expression changed. She had been active in rural areas promoting silkworm seeds and mulberry trees and understood the fundamentals of agricultural production. If Chen Lin wasn't being alarmist, then after spring arrived this year, unless the Senate allocated loans to Nansha, carrying out the new year's production and business activities would be very difficult indeed.

(End of Chapter)