【Current village population: 1,000. Please complete the census and issue identity cards.】
The population counter in Zhao Baihui's system had gotten stuck. It wouldn't budge past a thousand. Since this was his first time working with the system, a few oversights were to be expected.
"Master, you sent for me?"
"Come along."
Zhao Baihui brought Jinyuan by carriage to the Public Security Office, found a spacious room, and with a wave of his hand, a machine materialized out of thin air.
"Jinyuan, I have a job for you. From now on, you'll be keeping the household registry and issuing identity cards to everyone."
"You'll also be responsible for vetting all newcomers. Each person has a different probationary period—I'll explain the details later."
"Find a few people dedicated specifically to registry work. This is important!"
"Yes, Master."
The vetting machine was the system's way of keeping Zhao Baihui from cheating. Otherwise he could stroll into a bustling city, shout at the gate that this was his territory now and everyone here was his subject, and call it a day.
But how would that be counted?
And if it wasn't counted, what if he just paid people to put on a little performance with him? Or found someone to holler "Master!" in exchange for a copper coin?
No—the population could only count people who genuinely believed in him, worked for him, and were stable subjects under his rule.
Jinyuan was sharp and learned quickly. She had the machine figured out in no time.
"Come, take my picture."
Zhao Baihui stood in the designated spot. Jinyuan pressed the button, the machine gave a click, and a card slid out from a small slot on the side.
One side showed a full-length photograph of him, with a scale along the edge that even recorded his height.
The other side listed his name, date of birth, and registration number, with the words "Taoyuan Village Household Registry" printed along the bottom.
"Master, so this is an identity card! How fascinating—everything shows up so clearly."
"I want one too!"
"All right, stand over there and I'll take yours."
Click—another identity card came out.
Over the following days, people lined up every day to have their pictures taken. The announcement had made it clear: identity cards were essential. Wages, for instance, would only be paid to those who presented one.
Even newborns were to be brought in as soon as possible.
Within a few days, nearly everyone had their card.
The population counter in the system finally started climbing again. Only those with identity cards were counted, bringing the total to just over eleven hundred.
Going forward, everyone who arrived would be required to have their photograph taken. The cards came in different colors—newcomers received a temporary card. Each person's probationary period varied.
Ordinary people, for example, had to live and work here for at least one month before qualifying for a permanent card.
This was the system's safeguard against exploitation. Without it, Zhao Baihui could spend money bringing people to Taoyuan Village for a free day trip—meals, lodging, and a free egg thrown in—and suddenly conjure tens of thousands of residents out of thin air.
---
The autumn wind turned cold and biting. Overnight, the leaves on every tree flushed yellow.
Taoyuan Village lay in the relative south and did have winters, but they were short and never too harsh.
At this time of year, farmers in the surrounding villages had laid down their tools. There was nothing left to do in the fields.
But Taoyuan Village remained as lively as ever.
The distillery never stopped. The construction sites kept going. Only the fieldwork had wound down.
Some villagers went to sell their labor at the construction sites. The day-rate for casual work was a little lower, and casual workers didn't get meals included like the regular crew. Still, a day's wages left enough to eat well and pocket a little besides—for people who had known real hardship, being able to eat their fill while working was already a kind of happiness.
On the commercial street, more than one shop was selling liquor now. People were gradually growing bolder about spending money, and their purchasing power was slowly rising.
After all, in Taoyuan Village, a family of five or six could earn more than ten wen a day without much trouble. Over a year, that added up to five or six taels of silver—roughly what a prosperous household with ten mu of good farmland cleared after paying taxes. At that level, a family could eat coarse grains to their fill every day and afford the occasional treat.
Those doing a little worse scraped by near the hunger line, eating their fill only sometimes. But people at that level were few.
Most people elsewhere were still caught in the tier below—barely surviving, grinding through the year only to find that one unlucky turn could still mean starvation.
"Boss, half a jin of liquor, and a dish of beans." A man walked into the tavern. The tables were nearly all taken. Spotting a familiar face sitting alone at a table for four, he made his way over.
"Old Ma, you're here for a drink too?"
"Old Wang! You as well."
"Yep. The wife and kids were driving me out of my mind at home, so here I am, clearing my head."
The proprietor's daughter carried over a bowl of liquor and a small dish of beans, then set down a little wooden pail.
"Uncle, the liquor is five mao, the beans are one mao, six mao altogether," the girl of eight or nine said very seriously.
"Here you go." Old Wang pulled a red note from his pocket and handed it over.
"Four mao change. Here." The little girl darted off and was back in an instant.
Old Wang poured his drink, took a sip, let out a sharp satisfied breath, and quickly popped a bean into his mouth. "Times like these I never dared imagine before," he said. "Six mao—that's six wen. Back in the day, that was what it cost to feed my whole family for a day."
Old Ma nodded. "Liquor was a luxury. Only the landlords and their sort drank it regularly. Things are different now. I treat myself to a drink at the end of every work cycle."
Everyone had taken to calling ten days a "work cycle," because Taoyuan Village paid wages on a ten-day cycle. Merchants operating here had to follow the same rule—violators were fined, and in serious cases, expelled.
To do business here at all, you had to hold a local identity card. With a card on file, there was no running away if something went wrong. Of course, you could always put a local down as the proprietor of record—but then you'd better watch yourself, or you might find the business had quietly become theirs.
"By the way, Old Ma—your eldest must be getting on in years. Has he found a wife yet?"
At the mention of his son, Old Ma broke into a broad, good-natured grin. "That boy's seventeen now," he said with unmistakable pride. "Strong as an ox and not afraid of hard work—he earns a wen more per day than I do."
"We've already looked someone over—a girl from my old village. They'll wed before the New Year. Don't you forget to come drink to them."
"Wouldn't miss it. Now that my pockets have some weight in them, a wedding is a great occasion. Even if every last one of my relatives and friends got married all at once, I'd chip in for every single one of them!"
"Oh, and—now that it's the winter slack, I heard the village is opening up a few new operations so people can earn money through the cold months. You going?"
"Of course I'm going. I've been poor long enough—as long as there's work, I'll take it, whatever it is."
"Apparently they're starting a brickyard. The village uses so much, the surrounding suppliers can't keep up. I hear they'll be taking on a lot of people."
"There are two other outfits as well—one pig farm and one chicken farm. Something about scientific raising—scientific pig-rearing, scientific chicken-keeping—supposedly they eat less, grow faster, and put on more meat."
"Both sound like they'll be big operations. If they actually get up and running, meat prices ought to come down quite a bit. Come next year, we might actually get to eat meat every now and then!"
"Meat?" Old Wang's eyes lit up.
Even with everyone earning far more than before, meat was still something people hardly dared mention.
The simple truth was that it cost too much. Pork, chicken—a jin ran five or six yuan, meaning fifty or sixty wen. That was no price for ordinary people.
Beef and mutton were out of the question entirely.
Still, with Taoyuan Village getting better by the day, people were beginning to let themselves hope.