Chapter 378: The Education of Maids

After Dong Weiwei took office, her first task was to define the educational goals, which was a matter of deciding what the maid school would actually teach.

Every elder knew exactly why they were so eager for so-called “life secretaries” or maids. However, there was some debate about what skills these maids actually needed. Some envisioned it as a Lingao version of “raising slender horses”—a historical practice of grooming girls into concubines—and listed many requirements for sexual skills training. But the gentlemen of the Maid Policy Committee believed that the pool of available women was currently small with little room for selection, and the overall quality of the maids was lacking. The transmigrator group also didn’t have many resources to spend on training women. Therefore, these “life secretaries” were essentially domestic helpers, or as everyone called them, “maids,” rather than professional mistresses.

The training for life secretaries was to focus on housekeeping skills. Sexual services were considered an auxiliary function. Any specific skills required in bed could be cultivated by the elders according to their own tastes; the maid school would only provide qualified raw material.

Dong Weiwei’s curriculum focused on Mandarin education so the maids could communicate deeply and effectively with their masters, understanding and satisfying their various needs at all times. It was especially important for them to grasp the specific meanings of many modern terms.

A basic literacy course was required, aiming for a “Type C Diploma” standard: recognizing 500 common Chinese characters, knowing addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, plus simple abacus accounting—the fundamental skills for managing a household.

Cooking. The elders didn’t yet have the conditions for separate kitchens, but the foundation could be laid in advance. In all times and places, cooking was considered a woman’s natural duty. However, a girl from a family that could barely afford food was unlikely to have much culinary skill, not to mention the taste differences between the Ming Dynasty and the modern era.

The most basic household chores like laundry, window washing, and general cleaning also had to be taught from scratch. Many of the maids came from homes with dirt floors, where the concept of sweeping didn’t really exist. Naturally, they had no skills in maintaining wooden floors, waxing them, cleaning toilets, or washing glass windows.

Things modern people considered simple were completely foreign concepts to the natives, or the concepts were different. This was true even for maids who came from wealthy households. Dong Weiwei assessed the skills these servant girls possessed and felt they didn’t align with the needs of the transmigrators. She found books and instructional videos on professional hotel and housekeeping services from the Grand Library.

The Maid Policy Committee built a small courtyard within the school. It contained a full set of rooms decorated in both modern and traditional styles, complete with a modern toilet, bathroom, and kitchen, specifically for the maids to practice their housekeeping skills.

Daily etiquette and posture while walking were also taught. Most of the maids came from poor backgrounds. Even if their figures and looks were decent, they had zero temperament. Due to malnutrition, lack of care, and excessive labor, their skin and hair were generally in poor condition—their hair was yellowish, their eyes lacked luster, and their movements were clumsy.

Dong Weiwei personally taught them deportment. Every day, she had the maids do yoga, body shaping exercises, plus an hour of belly dance training. When President Wen heard about this, he immediately approved the renovation of a dance studio in the school, complete with large floor-to-ceiling mirrors, proper flooring, and ballet barres.

Every day, a long line of women would walk in circles along the walls of this room to the rhythm of a metronome, each balancing half a brick on her head. This was followed by splits, backbends…

“It’s a pity we can’t make synthetic fibers. We can’t make leotards. Otherwise, imagine them standing here, practicing splits and all… The Executive Committee is truly brilliant.”

Xiao Bailang, who had delivered the large mirrors, was drooling at the sight. All his complaints from when he was making the mirrors vanished into thin air. He had spent two days and two nights in the glass factory to produce these three large-scale mirrors, complaining incessantly. Now, the Executive Committee’s “blind command” had suddenly become “brilliant.”

“They should just practice naked! A bra and a G-string would be enough!” said Chen Sigen with a laugh. He was there to instruct Dong Weiwei and to check on the effectiveness of the nutritional meals he had designed.

“What’s this about bras and G-strings? They should just strip naked and practice!” Xiao Bailang licked his lips. “We should get that foreign broad, Salina, to be the coach and have them all practice together!” He sighed regretfully. “These clothes they’re wearing now… they just don’t do it for me.”

Not only were there no leotards, but the uniforms the maid trainees wore did little to spark the imagination of the transmigrators.

The maids’ attire had been a topic of great interest. Many different proposals were made in a dedicated discussion thread: high-slit cheongsams, miniskirt maid outfits with lace aprons… In general, they all carried a component of sexual fantasy, bordering on fetish wear. It wasn’t that one couldn’t do housework in such clothes, but it would be inconvenient to go out in them, and the elders were not so open-minded as to want their maids’ charms exposed to the public.

What was actually issued was the most common, mass-produced uniform: a pullover, collared, blue cotton-cloth student dress with a long skirt, the same standard uniform for female students at the Fangcao Primary School. As a distinction, they had a cloth badge with the characters “Health” (保健) in clerical script on their chests for identification.

The only difference in attire from ordinary female students was that each maid trainee was issued a bra. The bras were produced by the Ministry of Light Industry’s clothing factory. They were very simple, without underwire, but provided some basic support for the breasts. Bras had been developed a long time ago, but since they weren’t essential goods and it was unknown if there was a market for them in Guangdong, they were only produced in small quantities for internal use among the transmigrators. This was the first time they were mass-produced and issued to native women.

Chen Sigen was checking the weekly physical examination records from the clinic. He needed to use the data to judge whether his meal plans were appropriate. Most of the maids suffered from varying degrees of malnutrition and had issues with either insufficient or excessive intake of trace elements, all of which needed to be addressed one by one.

The weather was nice, so Chen Sigen placed a chair on the clinic’s porch to look over the data while basking in the sun. Just then, Liu San and his apprentice, Fu Wuben, arrived. Fu Wuben was pushing a “Zidian-Gai” bicycle, on which two large wicker baskets were tightly strapped, with wisps of straw sticking out from the gaps.

“What’s this?” Chen Sigen asked curiously.

“Restorative medicine,” Liu San said with a mysterious smile. “All good stuff.”

The unloaded baskets were filled with small earthenware jars, at least a hundred of them. Although the lids were sealed tight, they still emitted a strong medicinal aroma.

While the maid school had asked Chen Sigen to be responsible for formulating nutritious meal plans, it also used traditional Chinese medicine for conditioning. To this end, Chang Shide had specially contributed several secret beauty and health-preserving formulas from an old military doctor in Leizhou—including the “Sanbai Tang” (Three Whites Soup). According to Chang Shide’s experience, this formula was genuinely effective.

These formulas were passed on to Liu San, who was entrusted by the Maid Policy Committee to oversee the physical conditioning of the maids. He often referred to this “conditioning” (调养) as “training/taming” (调教), fully exposing his true nature.

Liu San was very fond of this assignment. It gave him a prime opportunity to observe the maids’ looks and figures up close.

After studying the old military doctor’s so-called secret formulas, Liu San found them rather ordinary, mostly aimed at nourishing yin and qi. He hadn’t been very interested in TCM gynecology in the past, but he had many books on traditional formulas to consult. As a shareholder of the Runshitang Pharmacy, he also had access to the various secret formulas kept by the shop. Runshitang was known for its life-preserving and restorative pills, and it had a large stock of such secret recipes.

After some deliberation, Liu San formulated several types of restorative herbal pastes tailored to the different physical conditions of the maids. As for the ingredients, Xiao Zishan had made it clear to him not to be stingy; all expenses would be covered by the General Office’s special administrative account.

When Runshitang Pharmacy received this order and heard it was for the chiefs’ concubines, everyone from the owner Yang Shixiang down to the managers and clerks put in their utmost effort. They selected the finest herbs, prepared and decocted them with great care. The medicine was delivered once a day by a dedicated person from Runshitang. Every maid had to consume her dose under the supervision of the staff, without exception.

Today, Liu San delivered the restorative paste personally. His purpose was the same as Chen Sigen’s—to see the effects for himself.

The effects were quite remarkable. Under the dual benefits of full nutrition and medicinal conditioning, even without looking at the data, one could see the maids’ complexions turning rosy and their hair and eyes gaining a new luster. It was clear the effort had not been in vain.

The improved nutrition and physical exercise would allow the maids to develop good figures, flexible bodies, and healthy constitutions. This would not only enable them to fully satisfy the elders’ various needs and desires but also prepare them to bear healthy offspring for the next generation.

“Spotted anyone you like?” Chen Sigen asked, eyeing the maids who were rope-skipping in the courtyard.

“It’s useless even if I do.” Liu San’s enthusiasm waned whenever this topic came up. The “tigress” at home kept a tight leash on him, occasionally letting out a preemptive roar. Apart from a few stolen bites during his business trip to Leizhou, Liu San had been a model of propriety.

“Oh, right, you brought your wife with you.” Chen Sigen nodded with an expression of dawning realization.

“It’s very difficult to convince her on this matter,” Liu San sighed again.

“I can understand,” Chen Sigen nodded. “It’s hard to change her mind.” He chuckled. “This is the advantage we single guys have—our suffering is finally paying off.”

Liu San felt even more dejected. The single men’s future of “sexual bliss” was bright and splendid. They might only have one life secretary now, but in the future, as long as their bodies could handle it, they could organize a whole company of wives. His restorative medicine business would probably boom, but he would only be able to watch from the sidelines.

In the past, having a girlfriend was the envy of the single guys who only had “Miss Five-Fingers” for company, and he had felt a certain pride in it. Now, it seemed like a shackle. Liu San thought melancholically, his eyes sweeping over the girls’ bodies. He felt it was a real shame to give up this opportunity. He had to fight for it, even if it meant just having one as a real maid for a while, he had to get one home!