Chapter Forty: A Wish Fulfilled

"We must find a way; at the very least, we need to be able to eat our fill," Yu Aiguo said with a sigh.

Qin Jun, hearing this, knew he had caught exactly the opening he needed.

"Every household is low on grain, and it’s still a long time until the wheat harvest," Qin Zheng interjected before Qin Jun could say anything.

Qin Jun added, "I only had a bowl of thin gruel this morning." He didn't have the heart to use the more accurate term, "pig slop."

"Which family isn't drinking gruel in the morning? Getting to eat something substantial for lunch and dinner is already considered quite good," Qin Zheng remarked.

Yu Aiguo was silent. What could he say? He knew the situation in the village all too well. But wasn't every family in the same boat? The phrase "a maximum of three hundred and sixty" meant that regardless of the harvest, each person was capped at three hundred and sixty catties of grain per year.

On paper, this figure didn't seem so bad, as it averaged out to a catty a day, enough to keep a person fed. However, that total included everything. In their production team, the best grain was wheat—not refined flour—and each person was allotted at most twenty to thirty catties. Then came peanuts, used for pressing oil, which amounted to another twenty or thirty catties per person.

The bulk of the diet consisted of corn, the staple crop, of which each person received about a hundred catties. Then there were sweet potatoes, which made up the largest portion, at least one hundred and fifty catties per person. Unlike in some other regions or during the worst times, they were at least allocated dried sweet potato slices rather than water-heavy fresh tubers.

Yet, all these staples combined only added up to three hundred catties. The remaining fifty or sixty catties were made up of odds and ends like millet, sorghum, soybeans, mung beans, and sesame. Out of that total of three hundred and sixty catties, only about two hundred and seventy or eighty catties were actual staple food.

In theory, averaging seven or eight taels a day should be enough to stay full. But that was only in theory. In later times, that might feed two people for a day, but things were different now. Everyone was doing heavy manual labor and had a big appetite; such a small amount of food was simply not enough. Furthermore, not everyone was allotted the full three hundred and sixty catties—children, for instance, received less. When averaged across a household, the grain per person dropped even further, especially for families with growing teenage boys who didn't earn many work points but ate like horses. Consequently, under the fixed grain distribution system, almost every family was teetering on the edge of starvation.

City dwellers and workers in light industries had it slightly better; their work wasn't as strenuous, so they required less food. If they could get a little extra fat in their diet, they needed even less. Clearly, this wasn't the case for farmers, especially the able-bodied men doing constant physical labor.

"Since we're making money, we shouldn't be misers. If we really have to, we can provide some subsidies," Yu Aiguo said, feeling uneasy under the stares of Qin Zheng and Qin Jun.

Qin Zheng shook his head, clearly dissatisfied. "Subsidies won't work. Whether we give cash or grain, not much of it will actually end up in their stomachs."

Qin Jun shared this view. After all, no matter who earned the extra grain or money, they couldn't possibly keep it all for themselves. Bringing it home meant sharing it with the whole family, which still wouldn't solve the calorie needs of the brick kiln workers.

Qin Jun proposed, "Instead of subsidizing cash or grain, why not set up a small canteen?"

"A small canteen? The village does have some reserve grain," Qin Zheng noted, looking at Qin Jun.

Yu Aiguo looked at Qin Jun as well. "A small canteen isn't easy to run. The village's reserve grain isn't exactly plentiful, is it?"

Qin Zheng immediately countered, "It’s easy enough. If we run out of reserve grain, there’s always negotiated-price grain, isn't there?"

Yu Aiguo nodded. "The commune has plenty of that, but the price is high. Most people can't bear to buy it."

Qin Zheng argued, "Why did we start this factory? Wasn't it to help the masses and serve the commune members? In that case, how much profit we make is secondary. Besides, half of our earnings have to be handed over to the commune anyway. If we use that money to buy high-priced grain, it just ends up back in the commune's hands. It's the same thing!"

Yu Aiguo gave Qin Zheng a long look. "Keep your accounts in order and follow the rules. Cross the line, and you're committing an offense."

"We absolutely won't cross the line," Qin Zheng promised. "For instance, I've set our wages at the absolute minimum."

"That's not necessary either. If the base wage is low, you can make up for it with various subsidies. After all, there are only six of you." Yu Aiguo waved his hand to stop Qin Zheng from saying more. "The coal you requested will arrive tomorrow, along with the additional workers. Make the necessary arrangements. I must head back to the commune; it's getting late."

"It's noon—stay for a meal before you go! We can get the small canteen running today," Qin Zheng urged, trying to persuade him. But cadres these days were truly incorruptible; no matter how much Qin Zheng insisted, Yu Aiguo still departed.

"Satisfied?" Qin Zheng asked once Yu Aiguo was out of earshot.

Qin Jun chuckled. "Why put it that way? If we set up the canteen, everyone benefits!"

Qin Zheng shook his head. "How can we make it benefit everyone? Ideally, it would be free—a free lunch—but can we afford that? And if we provide free meals, it’s basically a communal mess hall. If people eat their fill, how much would we need to provide? If it's not free and we charge, it's a hassle. No matter how high we set the wages, how many people would be willing to spend money on a good meal outside? Director Yu already thought of this, which is why he warned us to follow the rules. If we stick to the rules, the canteen makes no difference."

Qin Zheng looked dejected, but Qin Jun had already thought this through.

"We have to do it, but we need to change the approach," Qin Jun said. "Since people are reluctant to spend money, we'll adjust how we distribute the food subsidy. The point of the subsidy is to ensure the workers eat enough to have the strength to work. We can price the food, but we must charge for it. We need to plan the price carefully—something not too high, but lower than the market rate. I recall wheat is twelve cents a catty, right? A catty of wheat yields eight taels of standard flour, and a catty of flour makes one and a half catties of steamed buns. That means a catty of wheat produces 1.2 catties of buns. So, the cost of a catty of buns is ten cents. We'll have some wheat bran left over, which we can use to pay the cook. So, how about two cents per bun?"

Qin Zheng felt something was off, though he couldn't pinpoint it. "Is the cost of a catty of buns really ten cents? We're talking about negotiated-price grain, remember? That’s high-priced grain! How can you sell a bun for only two cents?"

Qin Jun smiled. "Doesn't our village produce grain? We grow our own grain, yet we have to buy negotiated-price grain? Why should we? If I sell a bun for two cents, five of them for a dime—exactly a catty—don't you think that’s a bargain?"

Qin Zheng asked, "If we're using expensive grain, how is that a bargain?"

Qin Jun replied, "How much does a bun cost at the commune canteen? Three cents each, plus two taels of grain coupons! If we use negotiated-price grain, we'd lose a fortune. But if we sell them for a penny less and don't require grain coupons, tell me, how will that look? Never mind that for now; let's talk about the subsidy. My plan is to focus the subsidy on the vegetable dishes. That’s the key. Many people are willing to spend money on the buns but stingy when it comes to the vegetables. If we provide a ten-cent subsidy per person, per day, all for the dishes, we can add meat to the usual potatoes and cabbage. With twenty-six employees, the daily subsidy is two dollars and sixty cents. Meat is about eighty cents a catty, right? For two dollars and forty cents, we can buy three catties of meat—not the premium cuts, but pig heads, large bones, and offal. We can get three catties since we don't have coupons. Three catties shared among twenty-six people is a little over a tael each. It’s not much, but having a little meat every day makes a huge difference. We'll rotate the dishes so there's a meat dish every day. If you eat, you get the subsidy; if you don't, you lose it. Tell me, would they eat or not?"

As Qin Jun explained, Qin Zheng pondered. The buns weren't subsidized, but they were cheap—effectively sold at cost. Not buying them would be a loss. The meat dishes were subsidized, making them dirt cheap—a huge temptation for people who rarely saw meat twice a year.

How could they possibly resist?