Chapter 120: Tangible Benefits

The dilapidated and diminutive Mountain God Temple at the foot of Great Green Mountain now bustles with incense and offerings. This temple is renowned for being incredibly efficacious, and if even Miao Xiaoyu, the mistress of the house, is so devout, how could anyone else doubt it?

Outside the small, original shrine, a new temple of red brick and blue tile has been built. The blurry, fragmented statue of the Mountain God was not only restored but also gilded in brilliant, shimmering gold. Miao Xiaoyu had initially planned to have the statue completely recarved, but the village elders cautioned that the Mountain God held a humble position; if he were replaced entirely, he might be supplanted by some other deity. Miao Xiaoyu, deeply believing in such supernatural lore and fearing that the Mountain God who had watched over these lands for countless years might be displaced, chose simply to have craftsmen repair the original form and apply a layer of gold.

The small, crumbling shrine was carved from the same solid piece of bluestone as the statue itself and could not be moved, so they simply enclosed it within the new temple structure. While the Mountain God could not be disturbed, the craftsmen were free to showcase their skills on a "Mountain Goddess." After all, the Mountain God had long stood guard over these lands alone, his offerings sparse and his side lacking a companion. Now that a proper temple had been erected, it was only fitting to provide this miraculous deity with a consort. The newly crafted Mountain Goddess wears an expression of great benevolence; the artisans worked with such care that even the individual strands of her hair are clearly visible. She, too, was gilded, to share in the mortal offerings alongside the Mountain God.

Zhao Hengyi, surrounded by Miao Xiaoyu and the six children, offered incense at the temple with proper decorum. Watching his wife and sisters look on with expressions of relief, Zhao Hengyi appeared deeply pious. He had never been a believer in spirits or gods, yet he maintained that in this world, people need some form of spiritual sustenance—or, perhaps, a faith to hold onto.

The common folk of this world suffer immensely; numbness and ignorance are the reality for most. But this is not their fault. Zhao Hengyi often thought that if he were in their shoes, facing the daily threat of starvation, waking up to the burden of exorbitant taxes, and agonizing night after night over whether he would have to sell his own children to pay the tax collectors... he, too, would likely become numb and ignorant. In this age, there are always those who spout empty rhetoric, calling the common people unenterprising, lazy, or stupid. Zhao Hengyi believed such people deserved to rot in hell. To judge the common people without considering their circumstances is either stupid, malicious, or both.

The people need guidance, but this guidance must not be empty slogans or the grand theories spouted by the elite who spend their days in decadence. The guidance the people need is simple, yet incredibly difficult to provide. Tangible benefits and unadulterated gains are the simplest and most effective means of leading the people toward the future one envisions. Yet, in this world, neither the high-ranking officials in the halls of power nor the local landlords who dominate the countryside are willing to provide such concrete advantages. In their eyes, the common people are worthless; as long as they are kept from starving and are left with the faintest sliver of hope to survive, the labor force will perpetually replenish itself.

To Zhao Hengyi, however, the most precious wealth in this world is the people—the very folk whom the upper classes view as nothing more than dust and grit. Everything in Yushu Bay proves him right.

Today, the number of workers coming from neighboring villages to Yushu Bay has long surpassed the original population of the village itself. In the textile workshop especially, the sight of hundreds of women bustling about during shift changes has become a spectacle in its own right. With the constant addition of kilns and the seemingly endless construction of warehouses and factory buildings, a massive influx of able-bodied labor from the surrounding ten miles has gathered here.

In Yushu Bay, people from different villages and clans no longer brawl over water sources, nor do they engage in large-scale feuds over a few feet of shifted boundary markers, nor do they fight to the death over ancestral grievances. From the very beginning, Zhao Hengyi established strict rules: anyone who engages in conflict or stirs up trouble, regardless of age or gender, will not only be dismissed but their home village and clan will also face consequences. This form of collective punishment, while unreasonable by some standards, has effectively ensured the overall stability of Yushu Bay. In this era, the influence of clans is staggering; villagers may not know the laws of the land, but they remember the rules set by their elders with absolute clarity. Because they must cooperate in their work, the laborers in Yushu Bay have gradually grown familiar and friendly with one another. Many who once harbored grudges now call each other brothers, as if they are slowly merging into a single whole, leaving the petty bickering of their ancestors behind.

Everyone feels a sense of gratitude toward Zhao Hengyi, especially those from outside villages. Unlike the locals of Yushu Bay, these outsiders view Zhao Hengyi as a stranger. In their eyes, the master is a great benefactor; it is only through his kindness that they can eat their fill and earn a few copper coins after a day's labor. When they see Zhao Hengyi, they stand at a distance, not daring to approach. The bolder ones might offer a clumsy bow, but they would never dare to initiate a conversation. This is not out of fear, but out of profound appreciation.

People of later generations, no matter how destitute, can usually fill their bellies if they are willing to put in the effort, and it is rare to see someone truly starving. It is hard for them to comprehend how difficult it is in the Great Yan Kingdom for an ordinary person to find work, to be able to eat their fill, and even receive wages. Under the rules set by Zhao Hengyi, the influence of the clan elders and the constraints of the villages are visibly and rapidly diminishing. It is not that clever men have failed to notice this, but even if they have, there is no way they could stop their own kin from coming to Yushu Bay to work. No one with a sound mind is willing to continue living the life of starvation they once endured. After eating a full meal in the Yushu Bay canteen, everyone is determined to do whatever it takes to escape that life of eating porridge made of wild herbs and grass seeds.

The most peculiar group among these workers comes from Zhou Family Village. Initially, under the leadership of Elder Zhou Xingwang, they came to Yushu Bay to stir up trouble, only to be captured as bandits and forced into labor reform at the kiln site. Before Zhao Hengyi left for Jiangling City, he specifically stated that the people from Zhou Family Village could be ransomed for two taels of silver each, with the price for the eldest son of the main branch, Zhou Xingwang, set at two hundred taels. To this day, while many from the village have come to cause trouble, not a single person has paid to ransom anyone.