Chapter 949: Correction

Cao Jixiang’s heart stirred: “Unpaid wages? Are many people outside withholding workers’ wages?”

Pan Yun spoke softly: “Master Cao resides here constantly and oversees the Maritime Trade Office—I assumed this was no secret between the two of you. Did Master Cao not know?”

Cao Jixiang’s face flushed slightly, embarrassed—he had just been served his own medicine.

Lu Mingzhe’s face turned even redder; he hurriedly said: “I’ll send men to investigate immediately. If workers’ wages are truly being withheld, I will punish the offenders without mercy.”

“Look, Master Lu,” Pan Yun pointed to the laborers in short shirts and shorts, only wearing straw sandals, bent low, heads down, hauling crate after crate from the ship, “they exert the greatest effort but earn the least—every coin is paid for with their bodies and lifespans. To withhold workers’ wages is to be unworthy of humanity.”

Lu Mingzhe’s expression grew solemn; he nodded and replied, “Yes.”

Pan Yun spoke with deep meaning: “Where there is oppression, there is resistance, Master Lu. The Deng Maoqi case was only settled half a year ago. Quanzhou is not Ninghua—if something happens here, the court’s entire strategy will collapse, and you will have to pay with your life.”

With that, she turned to Cao Jixiang: “Master Cao, shall we go see their customs declaration?”

Cao Jixiang snapped back to attention and quickly stepped aside to invite Pan Yun to proceed.

Lu Mingzhe hurried after them; after inspecting the dock and returning, he immediately summoned all his subordinates, especially the County Magistrate of Jinjiang.

Lu Mingzhe flew into a rage: “A pack of money-grubbing scoundrels! How much do workers’ wages even amount to? Yet they still withhold them! Investigate! Check every merchant, shop, and workshop on the dock!”

The stern Deputy Prefect sneered: “I told you long ago—merchants chase profit. The new policies are too lenient toward them. The court keeps favoring merchants; this year, to facilitate trade, it abolished several tax checkpoints and cut many officials. In my view, we should follow ancestral precedent: prioritize agriculture and suppress commerce. Your Honor, around the prefectural city, many farmers have abandoned their fields and flooded into the city to work. The city gates can’t even check their household registrations. These people are cunning—non-residents from other counties have swarmed here to work, even without travel permits. If this continues, the travel permit system will become meaningless.”

Zheng Vice Prefect murmured softly: “Travel permits restrict movement. Now that Quanzhou’s commerce is growing, we need more laborers. Why not relax the requirements for travel permits at checkpoints?”

The stern Deputy Prefect grew furious: “Zheng Vice Prefect, I’m arguing that the court must prioritize agriculture and suppress commerce—not be so lenient toward merchants. Why are you turning my argument on its head?”

Zheng Vice Prefect replied calmly: “I disagree with you, and everyone can see how commerce benefits Quanzhou. At this moment, we should support trade and let it flourish smoothly.”

“Foolish!” the stern Deputy Prefect slammed the table. “Merchants chase profit. Even now, at the very beginning, they dare to withhold workers’ wages. If this continues, won’t they turn the world upside down?”

“Then regulate them,” Zheng Vice Prefect said. “Fix one problem as it arises—how can we throw out the baby with the bathwater? Besides, merchants who aim to grow strong and large place trust first. Deputy Prefect Yan, merchants chase profit, but they also value promises. Otherwise, how did private money shops even come into existence?”

He added meaningfully: “Isn’t Your Honor investigating withheld wages? This is the perfect chance to tally who exactly is withholding them.”

Lu Mingzhe’s eyes narrowed slightly: “Does Deputy Prefect Zheng know?”

Zheng Vice Prefect replied solemnly: “I do not know, but perhaps Cao Tui’guan and County Magistrate Wu have some idea? Workers who can’t collect their wages will endure once or twice, but eventually they’ll file complaints at the government office.”

Lu Mingzhe turned to the silent Cao Tui’guan and County Magistrate Wu and said coldly: “Speak.”

Withholding wages has existed since ancient times.

Before Quanzhou’s commerce revived, it was mostly landlords and gentry who withheld wages from long-term laborers.

For example, harvesting rice for twenty days but paying for only ten, promising the rest would come later—when?

Landlords and gentry held power; laborers still needed them to herd cattle, repair houses, and till land. They couldn’t escape the temple—if they didn’t starve, they dared not press for payment.

If the people didn’t complain, the officials naturally didn’t investigate.

This habit carried over into their workshops—for instance, dye workshops routinely withheld two months’ wages.

In contrast, workshops and shops run purely by merchants were more trustworthy; they might oppress workers in other ways—increasing quotas, stealthily extending work hours—but they paid wages on time.

But when Quanzhou’s commerce was underdeveloped, laborers had no choice, information was scarce, and comparisons were impossible—so nothing came to light.

But starting last year, Quanzhou’s commerce began to grow, especially after the maritime ban was lifted, bringing merchants from all over the empire.

Huge business opportunities created massive employment.

In this year, dye workers’ daily wages in Quanzhou—unchanged for decades—rose five coppers, due to labor shortages.

In a feudal society, information spread slowly. Rural areas still held vast idle labor, but they hadn’t heard the news; those who had heard lacked guides, and few dared enter the city to seek work.

Under these conditions, merchants competed for scarce labor, driving up labor prices.

Whether foreign or local, excluding those who deliberately swindled, all honored their promises—at least, they didn’t withhold workers’ wages.

Come on—who among merchants dares withhold workers’ wages?

Especially foreign merchants: if they angered these laborers, the workers might swarm them, sabotage their goods—it would be far worse than any profit gained.

Thus, merchants treated workers with relative courtesy; at least, they dared not withhold promised wages.

But local landlords and gentry had not yet escaped their old habits; they still followed the old rules.

With maritime trade booming, everyone knew how to make money. Landlords and gentry rushed in with their cash, accustomed to using servants and near-free labor, never budgeting for workers’ wages.

Some had budgeted—but they simply refused to pay, because they had money and chose not to.

Good customs take years to take root and be learned; bad customs, benefiting short-term self-interest, spread quickly.

Soon, some merchants with modest means or short sight began copying them.

Workers used to endure—but now they had more choices.

If one place won’t keep me, another will. They no longer swallowed their anger silently; when wages were withheld too long, they demanded payment. If the employer refused, they took it to the government office.

At first, County Magistrate Wu treated these as ordinary cases: pay what was owed, and for those who refused, he sealed their shops or beat them.

But last year, he received no more than three such cases; now, he received three a day.

County Magistrate Wu glanced at Cao Tui’guan and whispered to Lu Mingzhe, whose face was grim: “There are simply too many. I noticed something was wrong, so I wrote an analysis for Your Honor. Didn’t you see it?”

Lu Mingzhe turned to his private secretary: “Did I see it?”

The secretary immediately shook his head: “No, Your Honor, I have not seen any document regarding this matter.”

Lu Mingzhe’s gaze swept over the silent Gao Tongpan, who sneered.

He usually handled document screening and review.

Pan Yun preferred nighttime outings; when she brought Miao and Tao Yanbai to treat Madam Pu and Pu Yue, Lu Mingzhe was raging in the prefectural government office.

The next day, government office runners from both the prefectural and county offices poured out, armed with County Magistrate Wu’s list, visiting every household of employers who withheld wages.

At the same time, Lu Mingzhe summoned all county magistrates and village heads of Jinjiang, along with local landlords, gentry, and major merchants, to the prefectural government office for a meeting.

Managers of Quanzhou’s major merchant houses were also invited.

Wang Cong, who owned three ships and had Pan Yun, the state teacher’s uncle, as his patron, was among those invited.

So he went to the prefectural government office to attend a legal lecture—also, under Lu Mingzhe’s leadership, all sectors were asked to pledge not to withhold workers’ wages and to raise the minimum wage.

When he returned to his villa after leaving the government office, Wang Xiaojing rushed over: “Cong-ge, our cargo is almost all sold. Only a little remains—should we ship it ourselves?”

Wang Cong: “Ship it ourselves?”

Wang Xiaojing nodded, his face slightly flushed: “You said we might not sail again until late August. I thought—since we have this leftover cargo, why not ship it ourselves? Head toward Long Hushan, sell as much as we can along the way.”

Wang Cong tapped his forehead and laughed: “You’re homesick. You want to go home.”

Wang Xiaojing nodded sheepishly: “Didn’t you used to travel and trade along the way?”

“True, but that’s exhausting. You earn hard-earned money.”

Wang Xiaojing: “I’m not afraid of hard work. The brothers aren’t either!”

Those who sailed with Wang Cong were mostly former rebels, miners from the mountains—strong, resilient, unafraid of hardship!

As long as they could earn money, as long as they could return home to see their families, they feared no hardship.

Wang Cong thought it over. Last night, observing the stars, Miao Zhen had said a strong wind might arrive in the next few days. Staying here was worse than going home.

He nodded: “Alright. Don’t ship the rest. Have someone pack up. Tomorrow, you and Da Lin head for Jiangxi. I’ll give you a route map.”

He added: “There are many ways home. Some cities suit trade, others don’t. I know this route well—I’ll draw you a map and assign a companion to go with you.”

Wang Xiaojing nodded eagerly, curious: “Cong-ge, aren’t you coming home with us?”

Wang Cong evaded: “You go first. I’ll return later. Be careful on the road—if you meet bandits, save your lives.”

Wang Xiaojing and the others weren’t afraid—they were rebels by origin.

Wang Xiaojing turned to leave, then remembered something and turned back: “By the way, Cong-ge, I think I saw Miao Zhen and Miao He this morning. Weren’t they staying in Japan?”

The three hadn’t returned with Wang Cong on the ship. Wang Xiaojing had assumed they remained in Japan—he didn’t even know Pan Yun had gone to Japan.

Wang Cong laughed and patted his head: “Yes, they returned. Little Master’s uncle brought them back.”

Wang Xiaojing’s eyes lit up: “Little Master’s uncle!”

“That’s right. Little Master’s uncle.”

Wang Xiaojing ran off to tell Song Dalin.

Song Dalin gathered the brothers, they discussed it, and decided to pool money to prepare a lavish feast for Pan Yun.

They had earned a lot of money.

Of course, to the wealthy, their sum meant nothing—but to them, they had truly earned a fortune.

Song Dalin’s wealth had just surpassed three hundred taels, and he still had some hidden goods unsold; once sold, he’d gain another twenty to thirty taels.

The thrifty Song Dalin had already planned: keep the three hundred taels untouched; use only the twenty to thirty taels from this landing—it would be more than enough.

He could quit now, return home with three hundred taels, buy land, build a house, marry a wife, and live comfortably.

Others earned less, but each had at least one hundred taels saved.

Wang Cong managed his men strictly. Many who went to Japan with him—three trips total, nearly five hundred men—included those who loved drinking, gambling, and women.

He tolerated drinking and eating, but anyone who touched gambling or prostitution was barred from the ship.

Mining alone could never earn this much.

But with Wang Cong, it could.

Whether miners from Dasen Village or those lucky enough to sail with Wang Cong, all deeply appreciated Pan Yun.

Because she had blazed the trail—she had led them out of Jiangxi.

So when Song Dalin proposed it, everyone agreed immediately, each contributing one tael, then another.

They pooled over a hundred taels; Song Dalin immediately took several brothers to buy ingredients and invited the chef from their favorite restaurant.

The task of inviting Pan Yun fell to Wang Xiaojing.

Wang Xiaojing followed Wang Cong closely, sneaking into their villa, propping his chin, waiting for Pan Yun’s return.

“Cong-ge, what exactly did Little Master’s uncle and the others do?”

Wang Cong sighed: “Seventy-six, you’ve asked me seventy-six times already. Are you so idle that your things aren’t packed?”

“Easy! The cargo’s all neatly stacked. We’ll load it onto carts tonight and leave first thing tomorrow. Cong-ge, will Little Master’s uncle have time for dinner?”

Wang Cong finally sighed and pointed: “Go that way. When you reach Ping’an Inn, turn right. Wander that area—Little Master’s uncle will surely pass through there.”

Wang Xiaojing jumped up and sprinted toward Ping’an Inn.

Wang Cong shook his head helplessly.

Pan Yun and the others were just nearby Ping’an Inn, sitting at a stall eating roasted pig’s trotters and watching the commotion.

Across the street was a silk shop; its proprietor had withheld payment from the dyers, and the government office had come to seal it. The shopkeeper was desperately trying to stop them: “The dyeworks owe money—seal the dyeworks! Why seal the silk shop?”

“It’s the same proprietor. If you seal the dyeworks, you’ll just sneak over the wall to keep dyeing. That dyeworks is outside the city—we don’t have enough men to watch it. Since the silk shop shares the same owner, it’s the same! Until the workers’ wages are paid, this silk shop stays sealed!”

The shopkeeper wept bitterly—how could the daily profits of this silk shop compare to those of a dyeworks?

This was the main street of Quanzhou City—how much rent did it bring in each day?

The shopkeeper raged at the proprietor, unable to understand his thinking: for such a small amount of wages—not even enough for two meals—why drag his feet and refuse to pay?