Returning from the back hills, Jin Feng went to the textile factory.
Lately, his focus had been on the ironworks, leaving the textile factory almost entirely to Tang Dongdong.
Liu Tie’s robbery impacted the textile factory the most, so Jin Feng had to check on it.
As he entered, he ran into Tang Dongdong.
“Brother Feng, where have you been? I looked everywhere for you,” she said.
“I was at the back hills,” Jin Feng replied.
“I heard Brother Tie ran into bandits. How is he?” Tang Dongdong asked anxiously.
“Huzi’s leg was broken by the bandits. He’s staying in the county for treatment. The others are fine,” Jin Feng said. “But the bandits took our carts and hemp thread. We likely can’t go to the county for now. How long will your supplies last?”
“For normal production, the hemp in the warehouse will last three days,” Tang Dongdong answered.
The textile factory kept adding new spinning wheels, now over two hundred, employing over five hundred workers, including weavers, logistics, and miscellaneous staff.
Nearly all the able-bodied women from Xihe Bay and Guan Family Bay worked at the factory.
A small path between the two villages, once overgrown with weeds, was now well-trodden by workers commuting daily.
Every morning and evening, groups of workers could be seen chatting and laughing along this path.
With so many workers, the factory needed several carts of raw materials daily.
“And the food supplies? How much do we have?” Jin Feng asked.
“Enough for two months at normal consumption,” Tang Dongdong replied.
“Including the construction site and brick kiln?”
“All included.”
“Good,” Jin Feng said, relieved.
After learning about the Iron Jar Mountain bandits’ checkpoint at Copper Mountain, Jin Feng had instructed the delivery team to bring back as much grain as possible.
This was why the hemp supply was down to six days.
With grain in hand, he felt secure.
Two months gave him enough time to deal with the bandits.
After thinking, Jin Feng said, “Tell everyone to stay after dinner tonight. I have something to say.”
“What is it?” Tang Dongdong asked, sensing something bad.
“Starting tomorrow, we’ll temporarily shut down,” Jin Feng said with a sigh.
Since Tang Dongdong managed the textile factory, he felt it right to inform her first about the shutdown.
“Shut down?” Tang Dongdong was shocked. “Brother Feng, what did the bandits say? Did they make demands?”
“They did. A hundred taels of silver monthly toll,” Jin Feng replied.
“A hundred taels,” Tang Dongdong said. “That’s a lot, but not enough to shut down, right? We could negotiate with the bandits.”
With the factory’s current profits, a hundred taels a month was manageable.
“It won’t work,” Jin Feng shook his head.
“Why not?” Tang Dongdong asked. “When my father’s business extended to Xichuan Prefecture, bandits stopped us many times, but we always negotiated.”
“Your father dealt with bandits on official roads, where many travelers pass, and fixed rules exist. The Iron Jar Mountain bandits are different. They’re targeting us specifically and won’t be easily satisfied. They started at one tael per trip, then raised it to two, three, five taels. They’re testing our limits. This month it’s a hundred taels, next month it’ll be two hundred, three hundred, until we can’t afford it,” Jin Feng explained.
“So what’s your plan, Brother Feng?”
“I haven’t figured it out yet. Since the hemp is running low, we’ll shut down for now and see,” Jin Feng said.
Though Constable Zhang was Qing Huai’s man and a retired Iron Forest Army soldier, Jin Feng didn’t fully trust his words.
Qing Muluan’s messenger hadn’t returned, so Jin Feng didn’t mention Scribe Zhou to Tang Dongdong.
“Alright, I’ll inform everyone,” Tang Dongdong said reluctantly.
The textile factory’s cafeteria was liveliest at breakfast and dinner, when day and night shift workers gathered.
That evening, day shift workers didn’t leave after dinner, and night shift workers didn’t go to the workshop.
Men from the brick kiln and construction site stayed too.
They had all been notified that Jin Feng had an announcement.
“Last time we gathered, they gave out soap. Are we getting something again?” one worker asked.
“I heard from Sister Yunfang that Xiaorou’s been making soap at home, piling up a roomful. Probably soap again,” another said.
“My soap’s almost gone. I was going to buy some from Xiaorou. Now I won’t need to,” a third chimed in.
“Don’t get your hopes up. I asked Brother Feng. He said the last soap was for us to try. From now on, we buy it,” another said.
“How much?”
“Two wen for a bar, twice the size of the last one.”
“That’s not bad. My husband’s daily wage covers it.”
“If it’s not about giving stuff, why are we gathering?”
“Quiet down and line up. Brother Feng’s here.”
Seeing Jin Feng enter with Tang Dongdong, the women automatically lined up by workshop and shift.
The men, scolded by Jin Feng last time for sloppy lines, were quicker this time, standing neatly before he reached the bench.
To their disappointment, Jin Feng didn’t praise them, as if he hadn’t noticed.
He cleared his throat, and the cafeteria fell silent.
Everyone looked at him expectantly, hoping for handouts.
But his next words chilled their hearts.
“I have unfortunate news,” Jin Feng said slowly. “Starting tomorrow, the textile factory, kiln, and construction site will temporarily shut down. You don’t need to come.”
Though these were simple villagers, recently transformed, a few whispered among themselves.
As Jin Feng’s words sank in, the cafeteria became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Then, like water poured into hot oil, it erupted.
“Brother Feng, things were going so well. Why shut down?” one asked.
“My family just started eating full meals. If we stop, we’ll starve again,” another said.
“Please, Brother Feng, have pity. Don’t send us away,” a third pleaded.
“San Gouzi, I told you this afternoon not to slack off. Brother Feng and the village chief were at the site. You insisted on going to the toilet. Now look, Brother Feng’s mad and wants us all gone,” someone accused.
“I wasn’t slacking. I really couldn’t hold it till the end of the shift. Brother Feng, I’m sorry. Give me another chance,” San Gouzi begged.
Even if the villagers were illiterate and unworldly, they could see Xihe Bay improving daily, with brighter days ahead.
Everyone felt hopeful.
But Jin Feng’s words cut their hopes down.
