Chapter 267: Booi

Dong Weiwei opened her notebook: “I’ve already made a routine report on the issue of the student backlog. About half of them will soon reach the end of their extension period, but the current special assignments are still not optimistic; you could say there are almost no assignments. However, the matter of changing specializations is not going smoothly. The activists report to us that there’s a mood of discouragement among the students.”

“Weren’t opportunities for changing specializations and further education provided? I don’t think either is worse than being an Elder’s life secretary. Besides, being a government-sponsored student at Fangcaodi Primary School is not an opportunity ordinary people can get.”

“With their level of understanding, most of them can’t comprehend it,” Dong Weiwei smiled wryly. “Someone like Lin Xiaoya is an exception. They equate changing specializations and further education with being eliminated, so they’re not motivated to study. Fangcaodi also reports that the students we transfer over have low morale for learning and a weak foundation in cultural subjects, and they complain a lot.”

“We’ve spent a lot of money on them. The resources invested far exceed those for the primary school students…” said the representative from the finance department in a voice that was not loud but audible to everyone.

“This is for the welfare of the Elders, so let’s not be too concerned about the economics,” Xiao Zishan said, and the conference room fell silent again. “But our new nation is still facing difficulties. The circulation coupons are earned through the blood and sweat of the naturalized citizens and the Elders. We should still be as frugal as possible, making the best use of people and resources.”

Everyone present thought, You’ve said it all. They remained silent. Xiao Zishan realized his previous words were a bit too slippery, and the discussion couldn’t continue like this. The maid issue was once a sensitive spot for the Elders, not to be touched lightly. Although it was a secret meeting with no detailed records, everyone was afraid of misspeaking and giving others a reason to attack them later.

“Please speak freely. The reform plan for the maid school and the maid system will ultimately be proposed by the General Office,” he said, reassuring everyone.

“In my opinion, the maid school is somewhat anachronistic now…” Dong Weiwei said in a cautious tone. “Before, it was about solving the problem of having or not having. Now, it’s clearly no longer a problem of having or not having.”

The main reasons for establishing the maid school in the past were: first, the political necessity of the Maid Revolution; second, the small population base under the Elders’ control and the low proportion of females, which required special collection; third, the generally malnourished pool of candidates needed special care to be presentable; and finally, the Elders, especially the male Elders, were in urgent need of domestic help.

“So now, it seems, first, the political factors have changed with time. Second, the population base has grown; we not only have maid candidates from the north but have even brought in candidates of European descent. Then, the nutritional conditions in all institutions have greatly improved compared to before, and Fangcaodi’s are even better.

Finally, the Elders’ domestic needs are basically met. Therefore, it is no longer appropriate to have a dedicated maid school for training before assignment.”

Dong Weiwei had originally had reservations about her own position. She didn’t dislike the teaching content of the “training class,” but the key was that in the eyes of the Elders and naturalized citizens, the life secretary training class was a “concubine training class.” This made her feel very uncomfortable psychologically, not to mention Du Wen calling her every few days to talk about “the liberation of women is first and foremost a liberation of the mind,” or writing articles for publications with thinly veiled criticisms, such as “Some female comrades no longer have physically bound feet, but their minds are still kneeling before men,” “Worshipping a decadent and dying culture,” and “The most terrifying thing is not patriarchy, but the female accomplices who willingly aid and abet it.” It made her feel like a “female traitor.”

After being bombarded by Du Wen for a long time, Dong Weiwei developed a strong sense of guilt, feeling that she had let down the vast number of women in this time and space, and even more so, the decades of education she had received from the Party. If she didn’t repent, she would truly become a “feudal remnant,” a “filial descendant of reactionary scholars.” She had pondered for a long time before this secret maid policy meeting was convened, and finally decided to risk offending the majority of Elders and propose the abolition of the school.

“I suggest we no longer maintain the establishment of the maid school, and merge all faculty, facilities, and equipment into the Fangcaodi Academy. As for the Elders’ needs in this area, they can be met through free love.”

Hu Qingbai coughed. “I also support abolishing the maid school. This is not just an economic issue; it also involves personnel issues. The Lin Xiaoya case actually inadvertently exposed another problem: the convenience of the maids’ upward mobility channel. In terms of the job transfer and further education opportunities currently offered to the on-call maid students, they already have an advantage over ordinary Fangcaodi naturalized citizen students. Furthermore, through their connections with classmates who have already become Elders’ maids, they can receive direct help from Elders: recommendations for admission, sponsorship fees, and so on. This is not uncommon among the full-time maid students accepted by Fangcaodi. Lin Xiaoya was just a particularly prominent case. This is actually very unfair to the students of Fangcaodi.”

“What you’re talking about is inequality in educational opportunities, not personnel inequality,” Yang Yun tapped the notebook in front of him. “Elders appointing their own life secretaries to positions is personnel inequality. CHEKA and I both have some materials: a few Elders have specifically called certain departments, requesting special treatment in terms of position, salary, and promotion for certain maid students who have been transferred and assigned after training. Needless to say, this is the result of the social networks built by the students during their time at the school. I think this is very unfair to the vast number of naturalized citizens working on the front lines. So this problem must be solved systemically.”

Xiao Zishan nodded. “Speaking of which, Wu Nanhai told me yesterday that his wife doesn’t trust naturalized citizens and refuses to promote the old employees at the café. She insists on directly buying maid students for administrative and management positions. It’s making the café staff very unhappy now.”

“Exactly. Chu Qing grew up in the old society, so it’s somewhat understandable, but it’s not appropriate for an Elder, a modern person, to think this way. In other words, if we still need this method of controlling personal freedom to demonstrate loyalty, what’s the point of establishing the Political Security Agency and the police department? What right do we have to talk about institutional confidence? This is no different from the Ming emperors’ reliance on eunuchs or the Qing emperors’ reliance on the Booi.” Yang Yun had long wanted to complain about the current personnel system for naturalized citizens. “I think our current criteria for appointing naturalized citizen cadres overemphasize their sense of dependence and gratitude towards us, viewing slaves and orphans as the most reliable candidates. My view is the exact opposite: the use of such people should be strictly limited! We should establish rules and habits for using people from good families. To put it darkly, if they were to rebel, we could at least hold their families hostage. An orphan eats well, and their whole family is fed—what leverage do we have? Even a bank loan requires a property deed as collateral.”

Yang Yun grew more animated as he spoke: “The thinking of some Elders on personnel is getting more and more bizarre, as if they wish everyone would sign a deed of absolute sale before they can be put in important positions. Let me complain: making captured prisoners work for a few years to redeem themselves, or having some immigrants serve as indentured servants for a few years to offset the Elder Council’s immigration expenses—that’s somewhat understandable. But what’s the point of meaninglessly expanding the scope of ‘deeds of absolute sale’? On a large scale: last time, an Elder even suggested that cadres and workers in key technical positions in industry and agriculture should all sign deeds of absolute sale to prevent technology leakage. What the hell, wouldn’t that turn us into the Eight Banners? Everyone has a master, and everyone calls themselves a slave? On a smaller scale, some Elders place life secretaries they’ve grown tired of in their own offices as confidential secretaries, or even try to place them in key administrative positions in the enterprises and departments they manage, feeling that their own slaves are more convenient and reliable. I’m worried that if this trend continues, the life secretaries around the Elders will evolve into something like the Booi of the former Qing dynasty. If this goes on, the Elders will only want to use Booi and not people from good families. The naturalized citizens under them will also take pride in striving to become the Elders’ slaves. Then we’ll truly become the ‘Later Qing’! I believe the Executive Committee must clearly and resolutely curb this trend.”

The meeting had been proceeding in a lukewarm and cautious atmosphere, but Yang Yun’s speech was like opening a floodgate, immediately unleashing a torrent of discussion. The conference room was instantly filled with the sound of murmuring.

Ma Jia said leisurely, “This line of thinking—that only slaves can be entrusted with great responsibility—is cut from the same cloth as the attempts by some people a few years ago to create a ‘patronage system’ in the army and raise their own ‘private soldiers.’ They all want to establish a system of personal dependency to guarantee their so-called ‘power’—a typical characteristic of persecution paranoia.”

Xiao Zishan pretended not to hear and said, “The current personnel system does indeed have problems.”

Ma Jia chimed in: “It’s not just a problem, it’s a huge problem! If we don’t sort out the various systemic issues, the hearts and minds we’ve been trying to win over will first collapse among the naturalized citizens who have received the most from us and in whom we have placed the highest hopes. A system must have a good upward mobility mechanism to inspire people to strive. At the very least, the principle of equality for all naturalized citizens must be upheld. Even feudal society had the ‘pie in the sky’ promise of ‘a farmer in the morning, an official in the emperor’s court by evening’! Although the Manchu Qing dynasty lasted for three hundred years, its ultimate demise was greatly related to their personnel system, which, until the very end, insisted on the nonsense of ‘prioritizing Manchus and Mongols’.”

He opened the folder in front of him: “I won’t discuss other personnel system issues for now; that’s not my jurisdiction. I’ll just mention a few points concerning our Arbitration Court: First is the legal status of maids. Currently, whether it’s the naturalized citizens or the Elders, they are all treated as concubines or common-law maids. But they are actually staff members under the General Office. And they are also the personal slaves of the Elders, and slaves do not have a clear legal status in our laws…”