novelonline Chapter 1278 Highway Tolls in the Republican Era
Chapter 1278 Highway Tolls in the Republican Era
Chapter 1278 Highway Tolls in the Republican Era
“Work-for-relief is not hard to understand,” said Hao Zhiping, the county magistrate of Zishui, taking a sip of his bland, coarse tea, his brows furrowed. “But what does ‘turning waste into treasure’ mean? Where does this waste come from? And what does ‘treasure’ mean?”
Not only County Chief Hao, but even Mr. Zhu, who was sitting upright in his rattan chair and always composed, leaned forward slightly and looked at Qin Hao with a probing gaze.
Qin Hao put down the ceramic bowl and gently stroked the rough rim with his fingertips.
"The cotton cake left after pressing cottonseed for oil is dry and hard, and is usually used to fill livestock pens. Wheat bran and rice bran, which are swept up in piles in the mill, are also used as pig feed and chicken feed. Sweet potato leaves, goose intestines, and dandelions that can be picked at will in the fields are not even worth glancing at in peaceful times."
"But now, as long as it can keep us alive, as long as it doesn't choke us and can stave off hunger, even the most difficult-to-eat food is a lifeline for disaster victims as long as it's not poisonous."
Upon hearing this, County Magistrate Hao nodded repeatedly: "Mr. Bai is indeed very knowledgeable. I admire him."
Qin Hao shook his head inwardly. These so-called "treasures" were all things that poor children from the countryside had known and been familiar with since childhood.
The county magistrate before me, Hao, had fair and clean fingers, and his scholarly demeanor overwhelmed his weathered appearance. He was clearly a "flower of wealth and luxury" raised in a life of luxury, which was why he regarded even this little bit of rural wisdom as the ultimate standard.
After his initial excitement, Hao Zhiping's brows furrowed again, and worry resurfaced in his eyes: "Sir, your method... is indeed very promising! However..."
He tapped his fingers unconsciously on the table: "The disaster is particularly severe in our Zishui County! To be honest, when I inspected the villages the other day, many villages had not only wild grass, but even the bark of elm and willow trees had been completely eaten by the starving people. The roots of the grass had been dug up. It was truly a case of scraping the ground three feet deep! Now, if we were to gather the cotton cakes, bran, and even wild vegetables that you mentioned... even if we went to search, how much could we find?"
"This is just a drop in the ocean; it's unlikely to quench the thirst of 100,000 starving people!"
"We can't find it in Zishui County." Qin Hao replied unhurriedly, "Collecting it in Zishui County is difficult, what about the other counties? What we lack right now is food, but we certainly don't lack money, right? If we spend money to buy food, the other counties might not sell it because they're worried about the disaster spreading. They won't hoard these things like treasures, will they?"
"Even if the county government won't sell it, we can ask merchants in other counties if they sell that waste that was originally only used to feed livestock? Do they sell the stone mill residue that's been piling up in their warehouses and mixed with old chaff? Do they sell the old sweet potato leaves that pigs wouldn't even bother chewing in previous years?!"
"This..." Hao Zhiping seemed to have been enlightened. He slapped his forehead hard, making a crisp sound, his face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and joy: "Look at my blockhead! I completely forgot about this! Zhiping is so muddle-headed! Sir, your words have truly awakened me from my dream!"
Lunch was served in a small hut temporarily set up next to the drying ground at the entrance of Bailu Village. Hao Zhiping, holding a large bowl of steaming hot pulled noodles drizzled with glistening red chili oil, squatted on the doorstep. Ignoring the dust on his Zhongshan suit, he slurped the noodles down to the last drop, then, satisfied, let out a full burp. With a belly full of "turning waste into treasure" strategies, he led his group of questioning followers away from the cracked and scorching Bailu Plain, their hooves clattering.
A week later, the yellow dust kicked up by horses' hooves rolled in again. Hao Zhiping brought with him an official red document of appointment—the Zishui County Disaster Relief Committee was established, with Mr. Zhu as the chairman and Bai Hao as the vice chairman.
The carriage headed towards the county town. The wheels rolled over a despair thickened by a thousand years of dust. The carriage was unusually heavy, with only the monotonous rumble of the wheels outside. Mr. Zhu, his face ashen, lifted a corner of the curtain to look out; the deep-set sorrow in his eyes felt tangible.
What I see is an ice cave to my heart.
The villages and towns I passed through were eerily deserted. There was no smoke from chimneys, no barking dogs, and not a trace of chickens or ducks running around.
The earthen walls crumbled like rotten bones, and the open doorway resembled a gaping maw screaming in silence.
What remains are the truly immobile elderly, huddled under the gnarled ancient locust tree at the village entrance, their eyelids half-drooping, their pupils reflecting the unchanging, vast blue sky and a desolate, lifeless emptiness, silently waiting for their bodies to turn to dust and their souls to merge into this parched earth.
There were also some withered women holding swaddled babies, emaciated and with cloudy, numb eyes. Only when they heard the sound of carriages and horses would their thin arms unconsciously tighten around the infants in their arms, who had long since stopped crying.
Several large towns and villages had become such desolate dead zones! His throat was burning with thirst, yet he could barely swallow saliva and could only let out a muffled cough.
Qin Hao's face was also very ugly. It is said that it is better to be a dog in a prosperous era than a person in a time of chaos. This is just a simple sentence in the book, but behind it lies a mountain of bones.
Upon arriving at the towering yet weathered city gate of Zishui County, Mr. Zhu immediately got out of the car to gather manpower and set up a temporary soup kitchen outside the city. His thin hands trembled with excitement, but his voice was raised high: "There is no time to lose! Every second counts in saving lives!"
"Uncle, wait a moment." Qin Hao's deep voice cut off his almost out-of-control anxiety.
Mr. Zhu turned around abruptly, his bloodshot eyes fixed on him: "Zihan! Saving lives is urgent!"
He pointed to the endless, dark mass of people outside the city, like a boiling anthill, with heads thronging the horizon—the parched yellow dust was kicked up by countless bare feet, blurring the shapes of people, leaving only the silent yet deafening cries of 100,000 thirsty lives.
Qin Hao said solemnly, "It is precisely because they have 100,000 that we cannot afford to make a single mistake! Uncle, think about Bailu Plain! And think about it... With the four gates of this county town wide open, how much grain is inside? Once the soup kitchen is hastily opened, the order will be chaotic, and the crowds will surge and trample to death, which would be the least of our worries—as long as a small group of cunning people raise their voices, 100,000 people will rush into the city like madmen."
"At that time, not only will you and I bear eternal infamy, but the higher-ups will also be waiting for such a legitimate excuse to abandon disaster relief and shirk responsibility! They will say that it's not that they didn't want to help, but that the disaster victims themselves turned into bandits! That would truly push the entire Zishui County into the abyss!"
Mr. Zhu froze, as if boiling water had been instantly poured into ice, chilling him to the bone. After a long while, he managed to squeeze out a hoarse voice from his parched throat, filled with unprecedented exhaustion and a hint of resigned surrender: "Then... what do you think?"
"The rules remain the same," Qin Hao released his hand, his eyes regaining their icy, resolute edge. "The rules of Bailu Plain are the only rules that will save our lives right now! Register the names, and settle them separately! Anyone who dares to instigate unrest or riot—"
"Kill without mercy!"
Three days later.
Outside the city gate, chaos reigned, a bloody pulp. Headless yamen runners and local militia huddled behind the gate tower, only daring to shout in vain with hoarse voices. They cowered like quails waiting to be slaughtered, letting the disaster victims push and shove them, howling, thrashing, and wailing over a little bit of muddy water or a piece of grass.
Until the soldiers, dressed in uniform black uniforms and each carrying a brand-new, gleaming Hanyang rifle, led by Qin Hao, silently advanced into the center of the huge crowd at the city gate, like a red-hot blade.
They didn't push or yell; they simply used their strong, powerful arms to forcefully but efficiently pull the crowd apart to both sides!
Without a word, the cold barrel of a gun was pressed directly against the chests or foreheads of the most disruptive and aggressive troublemakers. The ferocity on their faces hadn't faded before the oppressive pressure of the dark gun barrel froze instantly, turning into a terrified paleness.
Beyond the small passageway that had been abruptly cleared, there were several wooden tables that had been temporarily moved in and several sheets of pale, stiff yellow paper that reeked of cheap ink. This was the only way for starving people to register their "identity" information, such as their names, places of origin, and family members, on their only path to thin porridge and survival.
When a local tyrant, accustomed to bullying and terrorizing the community, attempted to lead dozens of starving, half-mad migrants to storm the registration point and seize the ledgers, a gunshot rang out crisply just three inches from his feet. Dust flew. The tyrant paused for a moment, then his shouts grew even more arrogant, assuming the soldiers wouldn't dare to actually attack.
The next second, a cold, metallic smell exploded on his forehead, and a thick, scarlet liquid mixed with grayish-white paste sprayed out, splashing onto the faces of several eager refugees around him. It was warm, slippery, and carried the unique stench of death.
The entire arena fell into a sudden, deathly silence. The tumultuous chaos of moments before seemed to have been choked.
Violence became the simplest and most effective paperweight. After several decisive and ruthless crackdowns—several corpses of different identities but all sharing the common trait of attempting to incite riots and fish in troubled waters were hung high on the branches of withered locust trees on both sides of the city gate—the chaotic crowd, which was like boiling water, was actually thrown into an ice cave, and was gradually tamed and brought together under the gaze of death.
The surging crowd of 100,000 people was like a turbid and turbulent river being forcibly diverted, and was eventually divided and settled into dozens of temporary fenced camps of varying sizes outside the city, which were made of rough, withered branches and tattered reeds.
Outside each camp, soldiers patrolled in shifts day and night. Outside camps inhabited by people of suspicious identities, mysterious origins, or those whose relatives could not be identified, the patrols were more than twice as dense.
Next came the "work-for-relief" program, but Qin Hao's proposal surprised everyone, including Mr. Zhu and Hao Zhiping.
"Not for building a canal?" Mr. Zhu stroked his sparse beard, looking in surprise at a newly drawn sketch that Qin Hao had spread out on the large wooden table in the temporary command post.
The drawings were clearly completed hastily, the ink was not yet dry, and the lines were slightly rough and messy, but they were enough to outline a grand structure.
“Building a canal is of little use in the face of this immediate disaster!” Qin Hao’s index finger, like a steel rod, jabbed heavily into the thick ink line, starting from the characters “Zishui” and extending eastward, finally stopping at the strategic pass guarding the gateway between Shaanxi and Henan: “Tongguan! If we’re going to build one, we must build a lifeline! We must build a road that can deliver blood—from Zishui directly to Tongguan!”
Hao Zhiping jumped up and rushed to the drawing. The ink lines meandered, like a black dragon slumbering on the paper. He instantly understood the weight of this path, but also felt a sudden difficulty breathing and a dry, bitter taste in his mouth.
"Tongguan Road... if completed, it would indeed solve the county's urgent crisis! Grain transport vehicles from other provinces would no longer have to detour through treacherous mountains, wasting time, effort, and suffering countless losses! But... but... this road is over a hundred miles long! This..."
"Mr. Bai, such a grand plan, just from the blueprint alone, reveals your profound vision and astonishing skill! However, such a massive project cannot be accomplished in a short time or by one person alone. The county's treasury is barely enough... I'm afraid it won't even be enough to cover the ground. Even if we use all the resources of the county, we probably won't be able to lay a roadbed!"
Qin Hao's fingertips traced the dragon-like ink line across several small circles on the drawing that clearly marked nearby place names, tapping precisely as if caressing piano keys.
"Zishui County alone can't support this, but this highway passes through cities and counties along the way! Zishui is the starting point, and the beneficiaries are not just us! Sanyuan, Lantian, and even Huayin counties along the route will all benefit. Moreover, once this highway is completed, merchants along the way will all benefit. It's only reasonable for us to charge a toll, isn't it?"
Hao Zhiping took a deep breath, his eyes flashing with a sharp light: "I can talk to the officials in the counties along the way, but the toll can only be collected after the road is completed. Isn't that a bit like trying to quench a thirst with water from afar?"
“It is true that the toll will be collected after the road is repaired, but we can mortgage the right to collect tolls first. County Chief Hao, why don’t you think about it? If there were a way for you to pay a small amount of money and have the right to legally collect tolls on this essential road to Tongguan for the next thirty or fifty years, wouldn’t you be tempted?”
Hao Zhiping's eyes widened, his face filled with disbelief: "You mean... to break up the road rights for the next few decades and mortgage them... to those wealthy families with huge sums of money? To make them pay a sum of money now in exchange for a share of the road tolls for the next few decades?"
He was somewhat dizzy from the impact of this line of thinking.
Qin Hao's finger landed on the Tongguan endpoint, and he drew a heavy line: "Using the future's immense wealth as collateral to exchange for the grain needed to fill stomachs, carry soil and stones, and pave roads and build bridges today! This deal is very worthwhile for them. The county will build the road! With the road open, travelers will flock to the area, and the economy will naturally develop! Everyone benefits, so why not?"
Hao Zhiping was unable to calm down for a long time. After a while, he sincerely admired Bai and said, "Mr. Bai is truly a man of great talent!"
Three days later, Hao Zhiping brought good news: 20% of the toll rights for the highway over the next 30 years had been sold, and 50,000 jin of grain had been snapped up by the Qiu family, the largest grain merchant in Zishui County.
With this batch of grain, we can get the whole project started.
The news of the work-for-relief program quickly spread to the disaster relief sites. Hearing that they could get enough to eat, the disaster victims rushed to the registration points like madmen. They were all terrified of hunger. For them, nothing in the world was more important than a full meal, and they would be willing to die immediately after eating.
However, according to Qin Hao's regulations, only able-bodied young laborers were recruited. In those days, road construction relied entirely on human and animal power, and those with poor physical condition could die at any time.
(End of this chapter)