Chapter 123: What Do You Have to Fight Me With?

As a modern man, Zhao Hengyi had an exceptionally clear understanding of the extent to which industrialization absorbed labor. Especially in this nascent stage of industrialization, the demand for labor was unparalleled! The textile workshops were short of workers, the foundation digging was understaffed, house construction lacked hands, the kiln factories were desperate for labor, the newly established smelting workshop was short on workers, and even the poultry farms, which had just mastered artificial incubation techniques, were crying out for help!

All able-bodied laborers—men, women, young and old—from the few villages adjacent to Yushu Bay had been entirely absorbed. The old village chief and the administrators, seeing the silver coins slip through their fingers due to labor shortages, were growing gray-haired with anxiety. Now, the young men of the hunting team were trained only half a day; the rest of their time was commandeered by workshop and construction site managers for extra labor.

The only group still able to maintain full-time status was Zhao Hengyi’s steadfast guard squad.

Under such circumstances, having just returned from Jiangling City, Zhao Hengyi quickly took action. Previously, the women from Zhou Family Village had been pulled into labor by various managers, receiving the same meals and wages as others. But upon his return, Zhao summoned these women together and informed them that their husbands and sons, detained at the kiln site, were considered captives, working without pay—only provided food by the kiln.

However, if these women were willing to pay the ransom for their young men, those men could receive wages like other able-bodied workers every day.

The women exchanged glances; two taels of silver as ransom—none could produce such an amount. Zhao then proposed a solution: the ransom could be deferred and deducted from their future wages, a mere ten copper coins per month without any interest.

Even without depreciation, according to official exchange rates, two taels of silver equaled two thousand copper coins. At a repayment rate of ten coins per month, even if a family of two worked in Yushu Bay, it would take over eight years to repay.

Yet the benevolent master Zhao promised that aside from the ten copper coins repayment, no wage would be withheld. According to Yushu Bay’s wage rates, workers could not only enjoy three full meals a day but also save a hundred or so copper coins monthly. Moreover, the two taels of silver carried no interest, ensuring the debt would never snowball.

What’s more, as long as family members of the detained young men from Zhou Family Village were willing to work in Yushu Bay, they too could help repay the debt, each contributing ten copper coins per month.

Master Zhao’s compassion was evident. This was no mere debt collection; it was a lifeline for the impoverished villagers of Zhou Family Village, who had suffered poverty for generations. No one could have imagined such kindness existed in this world.

If anyone claimed Zhao Hengyi was a deity descended from the heavens to save the afflicted, the villagers would believe it without hesitation.

The so-called debt contract was merely Zhao’s means of integrating Zhou Village’s labor force into Yushu Bay’s industrial system; he cared little about the length of repayment. He believed that once these villagers understood the significance of working in Yushu Bay, they would never want to leave.

As for forgiving the two taels of silver, that was out of the question. Everyone knew that if these young men who caused trouble were not punished, others would grow resentful, and further incidents would be inevitable.

The contract was, in fact, a grand gift prepared specially for Old Master Zhou. As the saying goes, to not reciprocate is rude—if Old Master Zhou and the Zhou family did not prevent their villagers from working in Yushu Bay, there would be no issue; but if they did, this contract would come into play.

Unexpectedly, the Zhou family reacted swiftly. Even before half of the young men’s families arrived at the kiln site, the Zhou clan had already moved to intercept them.

Zhao Hengyi and his guards mounted their horses and headed toward Zhou Village. They rode out all thirty-plus horses available. Even if the number was insufficient, no foot soldiers were allowed to accompany them—they insisted on maintaining this display of power.

Having spent considerable time in the Great Yan Kingdom, Zhao had learned how to deal with local landlords like Old Master Zhou. Such men, if made enemies, must be intimidated decisively at once; otherwise, they might secretly plot revenge later.

As for the small number of guards accompanying him, Zhao felt no concern.

More than thirty heavily armed guards, each riding swift horses—such a force could easily storm not only the small Zhou Village but even the county seat of Dangyang, repeatedly if necessary.

Human strength cannot be measured by numbers alone.

The guards were well-fed and nourished daily, with regular meat and strengthened physiques—far superior to the hungry villagers of Zhou Village. These guards were full-time, focusing solely on training, honing their skills, improving teamwork, and finding more effective ways to eliminate enemies.

Even guards raised by military families with honorable war merits would not surpass them.

And all this was funded by money.

Zhao’s confidence stemmed from this fact: he had wealth and was willing to spend it, enabling his men to triumph over greater numbers and crush Zhou Village.

Besides their strength and skill, each guard was equipped with a crossbow, a long knife, and a dagger. Many also carried other weapons they favored or were skilled with.

The cost of outfitting each guard exceeded one hundred taels of silver. For over thirty guards, excluding horses, the mobile force represented an investment of more than three thousand taels of silver.

Old Master Zhou, a wretched creature, was unwilling to spend even two hundred taels to ransom back his own son, the heir of the main branch. How could he dare to challenge Zhao Hengyi?

The thunderous sound of hooves shattered the stagnant calm that had hung over Zhou Village for years. Under countless fearful gazes, the horsemen charged directly toward the largest, most magnificent manor at the village center.

Last night, Er Gou and his family had been dragged into the ancestral hall. The cries of Er Gou’s wife, his mother, and their two children struck terror into all the villagers. Until dawn, the villagers maintained an eerie silence.

But when Zhao Hengyi and his guards appeared on horseback, these stoic figures finally showed a change in expression.

The Zhou household servants, panicked, tried to stop the cavalry to inquire about their sudden intrusion, only to be mercilessly whipped to the ground.

“Who’s in charge of the Zhou family? Step forward and answer! Where is Er Gou’s wife? That woman owes our master silver—are you hiding her, you pack of scoundrels?”