Chapter 41: "The Labor Contract"

Before long, Li Dechen had gathered all the able-bodied men of the village in his courtyard. Over a hundred people—not many, perhaps—but standing together in the yard, they formed a dense throng.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Liu Yitiao walked out from the house. The previously raucous crowd fell silent at once. Everyone gazed nervously yet curiously at their young new master, uncertain of his purpose in coming.

Liu Yitiao smiled faintly; it seemed his status as landowner still held sway in the villagers’ eyes. He stepped toward them, maintaining that gentle, refreshing smile—the kind that made others feel as though a warm breeze had brushed over them.

Seeing the tension ease from their faces, Liu Yitiao spoke in a voice laced with irresistible promise: “Fellow villagers, tenants—do you wish to escape this life of poverty? Would you like to wear cotton coats in winter, light shirts in summer? To live in spacious, bright wooden houses and eat meat every day?”

He scanned their faces, noting the longing and hope shining from each one. Confident, he fell silent, allowing them time to process his words—for he had something more important yet to say.

After a while, Li Dechen stepped forward from the crowd, his voice trembling with emotion as he addressed Liu Yitiao, “Master, is it truly possible? We have no land, no money—can we really break free from our current plight?”

“You can!” Liu Yitiao declared firmly. “With me here, you absolutely can!”

Li Dechen glanced back at the villagers, then asked again, “What must we do? Please, Master, teach us!”

“It’s simple,” Liu Yitiao replied with a smile. “If you work diligently for me, all these things can be yours! Five years—no, three years is enough. Work earnestly for me for three years, and everything I mentioned will be yours!”

A cold silence followed; the villagers responded to his words with indifference.

Liu Yitiao was not bothered, suspecting similar promises had been made before. Without further explanation, he drew forth a prepared contract from his breast, handing it to Li Dechen. “Please, Li Dechen, find someone literate among you to read aloud its contents.”

Li Dechen took the contract. “I attended private school for a few years as a youth and know some characters. Allow me to read it.”

“Thank you, Li Dechen,” Liu Yitiao nodded.

Turning to face the villagers, Li Dechen unfolded the contract and read loudly: “Labor Contract for Farming. Party A: Liu Yitiao; Gender: Male; Address: Gutian Village. Party B: [Village Tenant]; Gender: Male/Female; Address: No fixed residence.”

“On the principles of equality, voluntariness, and mutual agreement, both parties establish the following farming contract: First, contract period: From [Year, Month, Day of the Zhenguan era] to [Year, Month, Day]; Party B shall provide labor services to Party A for [number] years. During this period, Party A reserves the right to terminate the contract at will. Upon expiration, if Party A requires further farming services, Party B must renew the contract and may not refuse.”

“Second, remuneration: Party A shall provide Party B with three meals daily and pay a basic monthly wage of ten coins. Bonuses will be adjusted according to Party B’s work performance. After the autumn harvest, Party B shall receive one-fifteenth of the yield per acre.”

“Third, welfare: Work six days, rest one. During busy seasons, arrangements differ. For every five rest days missed, Party A must compensate Party B with one coin.”

“...”

The sweet promises had been made; what followed were the responsibilities and obligations for Party B, while Party A—Liu Yitiao—had reserved most rights for himself. Other than paying rent, he bore no responsibilities, let alone obligations. Punishments for breach of contract were far more severe than in modern times.

It was not that Liu Yitiao was ruthless; compared to the existing conditions for tenant farmers, his terms were exceptionally generous. He himself was not wealthy, and offering such benefits was already quite decent.

But his purpose was to bind them firmly to him, preventing others from poaching his laborers.

Despite the changing times, as long as both parties signed or affixed their fingerprints to the contract, it held legal force and could serve as grounds for legal action in case of breach.

The novelty of the contract—with its distinctions between Party A and Party B—confused many villagers, and most only understood it vaguely. Yet Li Dechen, the old man who had studied for several years, grasped its essence.

As he read, Li Dechen grew more and more impassioned, his voice swelling, blood rushing to his face, which turned red from neck to brow.

Upon finishing, he fell to his knees before Liu Yitiao with a thud, startling the young master, who hurriedly stepped aside. He could not accept an old man’s kneeling salute.

“Li Dechen, why are you doing this? Please, rise!” Liu Yitiao went to help him up, but the old man would not budge, his knees firmly planted.

“Master, don’t stop me. Let me pay my respects, or I will not rise,” Li Dechen insisted tearfully.

Seeing he could not prevail, Liu Yitiao let him be and received the gesture.

Li Dechen prostrated himself, knocking his head three times, then stood and wiped his tears. Turning to the bewildered villagers, he said, “You should all bow to the master as well. From this contract, he has granted us a tremendous favor—money, food, and days of rest. No other master would ever give such things. He truly treats us as human beings. Kneel down, all of you.”

Li Dechen’s reputation in the village was strong; his words were taken without question. If he said there would be money and food, then there would be. The villagers' gazes toward Liu Yitiao burned with gratitude, and they knelt together.

Over a hundred men knelt in unison—a striking sight.

Yet Liu Yitiao felt uneasy. It was only a labor contract—unequal, even harsh—and they were moved to kneel in gratitude. It spoke volumes about the inhuman treatment they had previously endured.

At the same time, he felt reassured; these dozens of households were now his.

Liu Yitiao gestured for them to rise. “There’s no need for this. Once the contracts are signed this afternoon, you’ll be my employees and tenants. We’ll spend much time together. I’ll honor the terms and provide the promised benefits. But I hope you’ll also fulfill your duties and work diligently.”

He then produced ninety coins, handing them to Li Dechen. Turning to the villagers, he said, “Here are ninety coins. I entrust them to Li Dechen to purchase food, vegetables, and clothing so everyone can manage through the New Year. As for the future, I’ll make arrangements with you.”

Seeing some still intent on kneeling, Liu Yitiao waved his hand to stop them and spoke sternly, “There will be no kneeling here, and I do not like it. A man’s knees are precious—reserved for heaven and earth, the sovereign, and one’s parents. I don’t want my employees to be spineless. You may not have known before, but from now on, at least here, if I see anyone kneeling for trivial matters, the punishment is five coins at minimum, or termination of the contract and never rehiring. Remember this.”

“Yes, Master!” All present bowed to Liu Yitiao with tearful eyes. His words were harsh, but they sensed respect within them—respect for people, which they had never before received elsewhere.