The matter of building a new city and relocating there was still known only to the upper and middle ranks of leadership — the common folk of Taoyuan Town had no idea.
But news of the pay raises spread to every corner almost instantaneously.
Even the people in Xinghuo Village and on Taoyuan Street in Qingjiang Prefecture heard about it quickly.
Everyone sang the master's praises.
An ordinary able-bodied laborer could earn up to one yuan and fifty fen, and the women and children in a household together could bring in about the same.
For families with more hands, pulling in four or five yuan a day was not out of the question.
Eating their fill on coarse grain staples had been achievable for a long time already, and now they could have a proper meat meal every few days on top of that.
Life was visibly, tangibly improving.
Many people thought that even a wealthy household of modest means probably didn't live much better than this.
Thank the master.
And the salaried middle class in town were even more delighted.
This group consisted mainly of young men and women who had graduated from the school, nearly all drawing a first-grade wage.
Working in town paid two yuan a day, working on assignment outside paid three yuan, plus an education supplement.
Life couldn't be sweeter!
The days before the master's arrival had been bitter — you might go a whole lifetime without wearing a new piece of clothing more than a handful of times.
Now ten days' wages could buy you a brand-new garment.
Every morning and evening you could go to a quick-service restaurant and eat beautifully prepared food, far tastier than what your old mother made at home, and if you were careful you could get through both meals for a yuan, sometimes even eighty fen.
Each month you could still save roughly half your wages — thirty to fifty yuan — to put toward a wedding or a dowry someday.
This kind of life was something you wouldn't have dared dream of as a child.
Praise the master.
As for the wealthy gentry and landowners who had come from elsewhere, they didn't feel much one way or another, only that Taoyuan Town seemed to have taken on a new energy.
Everyone on the streets wore a smile, which seemed pleasant enough, and life here was agreeable.
Though — blast it — another one of their servants had run off.
Were they going to have to raise wages too?
Damn that Master Zhao!
…
The appearance of cement astonished a great many people.
You mixed this stuff with water, spread it on the ground, and a few days later it was as hard as stone? Truly remarkable.
Taoyuan Town. Xinghuo Town.
That's right — at this year's year-end assembly, Xinghuo Village had also been elevated to a town.
Five or six thousand people — large enough to qualify as a town — and the place had essentially copied Taoyuan's model wholesale.
Almost everything Taoyuan Town had, Xinghuo now had too, and it had been drawing people away from Mitang Town at a ruinous rate; quite a few of Mitang's residents had simply packed up and moved there.
Mitang Town, already lacking in vitality, had fallen into even deeper decline.
Taoyuan Town, Xinghuo Town, and Taoyuan Street in the prefectural city were all pushing ahead with construction using cement.
They started with road surfaces and perimeter walls to build experience.
All the surrounding roads were paved with cement.
Then came plans to lay cement roads linking all three locations together.
Of course, useful as cement was, this was no small undertaking and would take a considerable amount of time.
The construction crews took the opportunity to accumulate practical experience working with the material.
Another year drew to its close.
Once the New Year passed, it would be Zhao Baihui's fourth year in this place.
Nearly three full years — how quickly time flew.
For the New Year, the family had to be together.
The Zhao household put on another buffet. Everyone knelt and kowtowed to the master, received a red envelope — a larger one this time, a full two thousand yuan — and then they all sat together, ate, and chatted happily.
"Mingcheng, after the New Year you'll be seventeen. Anyone caught your eye?"
"Master, what do you mean by that?"
"Come off it, you know perfectly well what I mean!"
The brothers and sisters around him burst into laughter, and only then did Mingcheng catch on, his face flushing red in an uncharacteristic display.
"Master, as they say, it is for parents to command and matchmakers to arrange. I defer entirely to your judgment."
"You lot, honestly." Zhao Baihui thought it over — talking about free love was probably not terribly fitting at this point in time.
"Here's the thing — I'm open-minded about it. If any of you has someone you fancy, just come tell me, and I'll go sort it out for you."
"All of you — that goes for the girls too. You're all allowed to seek your own happiness!"
"Wow, really? Master, does that go for someone like me too?"
"Jin'an, don't be silly. You're only turning twelve after the New Year — don't tell me you've already got a boy you like?"
"No, nothing like that. I just thought what the master said sounded like a good deal, so I wanted to stake my claim early."
"Thank goodness for that. You nearly gave me a fright — I almost reached for my gun to blow away whatever boy had caught your eye!"
"Master, what's a gun? Take it out and show me!"
"…"
"Go on, run along and play."
"Anyway, this sort of thing shouldn't be left too long. You all keep it in mind — when you're old enough and someone takes your fancy, come tell me."
"If no one does, I'll start thinking of arrangements for you myself."
"If you don't sort it out while you're young, you'll be even less inclined when you're older."
"Older bachelors and spinsters all end up very detached about the whole business. You know, looking just like Mingxin over there."
Across the room, a handsome young man was squatting unselfconsciously on the floor, entertaining the youngest of the children.
"Master, how did I suddenly end up in this conversation?"
Zhao Baihui regarded him with a mixture of sorrow and exasperation. "You're only a year younger than Mingcheng, and you spend every single day doing absolutely nothing — living the same retired life as me. Tell me, does that strike you as normal?"
Mingxin was indeed only slightly younger than Mingcheng, the second-oldest among them all.
But he went nowhere, held no post, and drifted through his days just like Zhao Baihui himself — a thoroughgoing idler.
"Master, I think I'm perfectly normal. It's wonderfully comfortable just staying put. And you can't really talk, can you? Aren't the two of us exactly the same? Pot, meet kettle."
"Who said we're the same? I'll thrash you, you shiftless creature."
"Help! Why is everyone just standing there watching? Someone help me — the master's committing murder—"
Everyone looked on with great amusement, cheerfully refusing to intervene.
And so this New Year passed, wrapped in laughter and warmth.