Chapter 171

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

Song Miao's group stayed at the station office, where tables and chairs were already available.

She greeted the station official, moved furniture out of each person's room, and that was enough.

Hua Prefecture was a major prefecture and a key land-and-water thoroughfare, so the station office naturally covered a large area and was well located, neither in the bustling downtown nor too remote.

Relying on Wu Gong's name and the Water Supervisor's authority, she borrowed a piece of empty land by the gate—not far from one of the usual spots where the Hua Prefecture Government Office posted wanted notices, where locals passing by would mostly come to look, even if illiterate, pointing at the fugitive's face to kill time and amuse themselves, then casually ask the station runners if there was any fresh news.

Although the big picture was settled, Song Miao knew very well that recruiting people was never just setting up a stall and registering names, especially since this recruitment was on such a large scale.

Besides tables and chairs, many other things were needed, such as several large signs for visibility, borrowing some wooden fences and assigning people to maintain order, and figuring out how to make some items to serve as proof for those who signed up, to be presented later when reporting for duty, and so on, countless trivial details.

Most importantly, arrangements had to be planned during recruitment.

For example, how many workers were needed where, who should report when, even if not finalized yet, there should be a plan on paper from the start—how many per group, how many groups per team, who was the head, management responsibilities had to be divided, not all left to herself.

Otherwise, one person managing a few or ten people was fine, but when it reached dozens it became difficult; if one person faced hundreds or thousands, even a god wouldn't have enough ears to listen to them all.

If the foundation wasn't laid properly at the start, or order couldn't be maintained, or the roster wasn't neat enough, or the identification tags weren't issued in time, or reporting and assembling weren't properly explained, everything would descend into chaos later.

If lucky, things would just be a mess, requiring several times the manpower and energy to fix later; if unlucky, with many people, a stampede could occur on site, and once lives were lost, even a hundred merits couldn't redeem the guilt—it could not be made up for.

Song Miao currently had manpower on hand.

She left half to keep slicing lettuce stems, selected half and assigned them individually: three per group, one group responsible for setting up stalls and purchasing—buying cloth, buying paper, finding sticks, and inquiring where wooden fences were available—the patrol office definitely had some, and if borrowing, how to borrow them; or many shops might have them, whether they could be borrowed, and how.

One group was to inquire whether the government office's recruitment stall had already opened, where exactly, how it was arranged, the manpower situation, current status, whether anyone was queuing, and how many.

One group was responsible for the identification tags.

With only one night's time, it was too tight, and Song Miao knew other proper things couldn't be done.

She instructed everyone to go find several more seal engravers.

Although the recruited laborers were mostly poor and illiterate, they had few pastimes these days, and during farming off-seasons and festivals many passed time with card games; even those who didn't play had seen others play.

Whether leaf cards or big-character cards, most people could recognize numbers from one to ten.

Besides numbers, a special seal for the river conservancy recruitment had to be engraved, with simple strokes—just carve a hoe, with a few flowing ripples to suggest river water, so anyone could tell at a glance what it was, and that was enough.

When the time came, the paper shop would cut paper to palm size, and everyone would just stamp them—each sheet stamped with the special seal once, then stamped with numbers from small to large, finally leaving room to later stamp group seals.

When distributing, each tag number had to be registered one by one on the roster, and each recruit also had to draw their mark on both the paper and the roster.

Of course, all this was just an idea; fortunately the cost was low, so they could prepare first, and when Kong Fuyang returned, discuss with him whether to use it.

After all, what Song Miao thought and did was just laying a foundation as a transition, so that whoever took over later could save time and effort and get started quickly.

The washerwomen who came today were all locals; who at home didn't handle big and small matters, familiar with everything? Hearing Song Miao explain things in detail, they didn't need hand-holding and knew what to do themselves.

This one said: "My elder sister's brother works at the East Lane paper shop; let's go ask the price, see which shop he says is cheaper, compare properly before buying—save a little where we can!"

That one said: "The seal engraver charges a lot; my neighbor, the Left Family, has an uncle who used to engrave steles for people. I just heard his nephew's wife say the old man is idle lately. I'll see if I can get him to go—this person works very fast and lives nearby, right on the street!"

The crowd pooled their ideas, talking as they walked, and hurried out.

Song Miao quickly called them back, gave money by headcount, saying it was a meal subsidy; if they missed mealtime, they could use it to eat something on the road to fill their bellies. She also said today was a trial shift—whether they were ultimately used or not, they would be given full subsidy. If they were delayed late tonight, an extra twelve wen per shichen.

Hua Prefecture wasn't like Jingcheng; twelve wen could already buy quite a lot.

The people were exactly at the time of fighting for work to do. Hearing that not only was there money, but also a meal subsidy, and an extra twelve wen besides, they wished they could delay even more—simply overjoyed. For a moment, as they ran, their legs seemed to kick the ground with more vigor.

After arranging everything outside, the time was already late.

Song Miao then turned back to the drying yard to check the lettuce stems.

Quite a lot of lettuce stems had been bought, but with many people and great strength, the young ladies and aunties were efficient. In one day's work, they had already processed them—peeled and washed clean. Some had been cut into sections and dried for half a day; others were sliced and were being laid out to dry, still somewhat damp.

By now the new jars had arrived, washed and dried. Song Miao directed everyone to pack the cut strips into the jars, making pickled lettuce stems, and took some to make vinegar-pickled lettuce stems.

When things here were nearly cleaned up, seeing it was nearly the end of the chen hour, she checked once. Indeed, Auntie Ma hadn't been boasting—the selected ones were all neat and capable, and everything was done properly.

She didn't keep them in suspense, only told everyone to come again tomorrow morning, when there would be other arrangements.

For a moment everyone here was delighted, but someone plucked up courage to say: "Song Xiaoniangzi, can you also arrange that kind of overtime work for me next time!"

Song Miao glanced at the other person, recognized her, and said: "Auntie Liao, are you free to be busy? You have three little sons at home, one just turned one year old—shouldn't you go home early to take care of them?"

Auntie Liao, hearing this, was somewhat moved. She hadn't expected the person opposite not only remembered her family name, but even remembered her family situation.

She immediately replied: "Her eldest brother is watching them; a seven-year-old boy can manage the household—why couldn't he bring his younger brother and sister? Besides, last night my mother-in-law and their father also went back, and they will naturally take care of them. It's more important for me to do proper work outside and earn money!"

At that moment the others finally understood why they couldn't earn that extra twelve wen per shichen—it turned out every one of them had young children at home. They also rushed forward: this one said no one needed care at home, that one said they could also work overtime without too many worries.

But three or four didn't dare speak up—their children at home were simply too young, and no one could help look after them, so they could only go back on time.

Song Miao noted them down one by one, confirmed their names, and then said: "I understand. I'll arrange things with this in mind in the future."

Just then, those who had gone out to run errands returned one by one, and about seven or eight out of ten had arrived.

Song Miao gathered everyone and only said she wanted to recruit people to build sheds outside the city. Tomorrow morning she would set up a point outside the station office, and after everyone went back, they could publicize it among their relatives, friends, and neighbors. Since many people were needed and time was tight, those who helped introduce people would be paid by headcount—ten wen per person, as Han Li had said before.

For a moment everyone wanted to jump up and down, no longer caring about delays, and everyone said farewell and went home.

Since there were too many and too miscellaneous things, after sending off those women, by the time Song Miao was free, it was much later than before.

Because a station runner reported that he had seen students entering from the head of the alley, they would surely return soon. Song Miao had originally promised to make one or two side dishes for everyone every day. Seeing the time was tight, she quickly washed her hands and went to check the evening dish arrangements in the kitchen.

By now it was nearly mealtime. Chef Zhang, with his apprentices, had already finished the meals in the public kitchen: braised goose, pickled duck, stewed fish, simmered mutton. Almost every dish had either extra euodia or heavy sauce. Although there were two vegetable dishes, they were also rich in oil and red sauce, very different from usual.

Song Miao looked and found it strange, so she had to ask.

Chef Zhang, asked, had a belly full of bitterness and sighed: "Don't mention it. You've been busy these past two days and probably didn't see it. I couldn't well complain to you—the other day a group of troops came to the station office. The leader was a Deputy Transport Commissioner, with quite a few subordinate officials below him. I don't know what happened, but their taste was so heavy. They kept picking at me for several meals—either saying the food lacked flavor, or that the meat had a gamey smell. Their superior couldn't eat a single bite and told me to find a way to tone it down..."

Song Miao found it even stranger and said: "I've also eaten the food Chef Zhang made at the public kitchen these past two days. I didn't feel anything lacked flavor, and it certainly wasn't so gamey as to be inedible."

Hearing this from Song Miao, Chef Zhang was almost moved to tears. Excitedly he said: "You have such a tongue, such skill—you don't think there's a problem with the taste of my dishes, do you?!"

He sighed long and short, saying: "At noon, the Vice Station Chief specially called me over, telling me to be more careful and not offend the superior official—this time this person is a Deputy Commissioner from the Jianghuai Transport Commission. The assignment is important, and he carries quite some authority..."

Song Miao then said to him, "Actually, it may not be that your food tastes bad; perhaps that official has other things on his mind, his thoughts not on eating and drinking, which is why he has no appetite for anything."

After all, this was not something she could control, and seeing that time was pressing, Song Miao comforted Zhang Gong Chu a few words, then hurried off to prepare the ingredients first.

Since they had fried Shrimp Jujubes today and were now in a hurry, and seeing that the dishes Zhang Chu made were too heavy in flavor, she thought she might as well make something the opposite.

After turning around in the kitchen once, she found that there were actually quite a lot of ingredients left today.

Da Bing explained to her: "It is said that a Deputy Transport Commissioner newly arrived the other day, and his party wanted a late-night snack in the middle of the night, but the back kitchen had not prepared anything last night, and Zhang Gong Chu had gone home, so they gave him a hard time today; fearing they might be in a rush again tonight, Zhang Gong Chu and the others specially left many ingredients."

Hearing this, Song Miao did not go to take Zhang Chu's good meat and good dishes, lest he be unable to cook without rice at night.

She first told Da Bing to wash the scallions, while she herself took out a large piece of pork front leg and cut it into meat slices, then lightly chopped it twice, added salt, soy sauce, Sichuan pepper, and a little water, mixed the half-minced, half-sliced front leg meat evenly, and set it aside to marinate for a while.

While the meat was marinating, she cracked more than ten eggs; seeing that Da Bing had washed the scallions, she lit the stove.

This time she planned to make a very simple dish called Meat and Egg Soup.

Although the ingredients of this dish were simple—only pork and eggs as the main ingredients, and the method was simple—it could be out of the pot in less than a quarter of an hour, but the taste was by no means perfunctory: the soup was fresh, the flavor delicious, it went well with rice, and would not make the stomach and intestines uncomfortable.

Such a dish, though it would not amaze people, could make them think of it often and want to eat it again and again.

Song Miao used clear oil for this dish; when the oil was smoking blue, she gently slid the eggs into it.

The pot was hot and the oil plentiful; as soon as those many eggs went in, they were crowded and hot at once, bubbling on one side and already making a sizzling sound on the other.

Rising with the sound from the pot was an extremely rich fried egg aroma—ten or more eggs inside, both fried and pan-fried—how could it not be fragrant?

The eggs were only fried on one side; when the aroma was about right, she estimated the bottom was already half-charred, and at this point she took a ladle to break them up and chop them fine, added salt, then poured in boiling water to boil.

When the water hit the oil, the white soup almost thickened in the blink of an eye; taking advantage of this, she put the half-minced, half-sliced pork leg meat in as well, added Shrimp Jujubes, then added a little salt for seasoning, and sprinkled a handful of scallion granules.

This dish had soup, but the soup should not be too much, otherwise it would lose its fresh richness; nor should it be too little, because the soup juice was the essence, especially fresh and sweet, good for mixing with rice or eating on its own.

The sweetness was the meat sweetness of fresh pork boiled in soup, and the egg fragrance and egg sweetness of eggs; just these two were already enough, and today she had added Shrimp Jujubes, that wonderful river-fresh delicacy lightly fried in oil—one could imagine the flavor.

Just as it was about to come out of the pot, Da Bing, who was sitting on a small stool tending the fire, could not help but keep looking up, and even half-rose to go look at the dish in the pot.

Sure enough, as soon as the dish was served, a runner came in again to report that many students had returned.

She served two large bowls from this pot, and she and Da Bing each carried a bowl out, only to see in the outer hall several students sitting listlessly by the table, not even reaching for their chopsticks; clearly it was already late, yet not one looked like they had an appetite to eat.

She stepped forward to put the dish down, looked left and right, did not see Kong Fuyang, and first asked a sentence about everyone's situation today.

Several students heard Song Miao's question; though not to the point of sighing and groaning, they looked at me, I looked at you, for a long while, before one person opened his mouth to say: "Don't mention it; we set up stalls for half a day, clearly seven or eight stalls, with a great show of force, and said there was a head reward, but in the end we only recruited ten or so people—truly strange!"

He added: "Right now we are back to change and eat; after eating, we still have to go back."

—It was as if they were going to stand guard until midnight!

Earlier, several Aunties and Young Ladies had returned to report, and Song Miao already knew the situation at the stalls was not good; no one had taken the initiative to ask about it for half a day, so she was not surprised by such a result.

She said: "Everything is difficult at the beginning; we'll think of another way, but we can't possibly work on an empty stomach, can we? Let's talk after eating."

She then asked where Kong Fuyang was.

Someone answered: "He is still guarding the stall and refuses to come back, only saying he is not hungry and will talk later."

Song Miao thought for a moment, asked for the specific location of the stall, took a food box, and served the rice and dishes separately into one portion; hearing that two more people were still on the road back, she also left two portions of Meat and Egg Soup and the other meat and vegetables warming in the pot; taking advantage of the sky still being fairly bright, she carried the food box out the door to find Kong Fuyang.