Chapter 210: Only Lord Yuan Ye is the Savior!
Wanjin currently implements an alternative public ownership system—Yuan Ye had overthrown all second-tier lords within Wanjin’s sphere of influence. Theoretically, the entire Chita Peninsula belonged to him, and he could even openly rob and extort everyone, but he did not do so. He merely acted as a distributor of wealth, thus it was an alternative form of public ownership.
Everything belonged to him, but he was willing to share it with others.
Wanjin’s economy was primarily state-owned, meaning it was centered around a series of workshops he had established. However, as a modern Chinese person, one would know without needing to be a history expert that a country cannot rely solely on a state-owned economy.
State-owned economies are too susceptible to administrative interference during their operation, often leading to decisions made on a whim, resulting in many bizarre and unbelievable situations. Furthermore, due to a lack of survival pressure, state-owned economic entities often lack innovation drive and are uninterested in venturing out of their comfort zones to explore, preferring to stay put and live a peaceful life.
But domestic demand is never as appealing as external demand; of course, it’s better to earn money from outsiders. Relying solely on internal circulation leads nowhere.
The non-state-owned economy, conversely, is market-oriented, bold, and responsive, with high resource utilization rates, stimulating market vitality. For instance, at the time of Yuan Ye’s transmigration, the non-state-owned economy he observed already provided about 80% of job opportunities, 70% of technological innovation, and over 50% of tax revenue.
More importantly, a vibrant private economy can satisfy diverse market demands, offer a wide variety of high-quality, low-priced goods, and significantly improve people’s happiness.
Indeed, do not underestimate the miscellaneous small trinkets produced by modern small factories. Those trinkets might not be valuable, perhaps even selling for 0.99 yuan with free shipping, but this is the true foundation of a nation.
Yuan Ye did not study economics, and his understanding of it is limited to this. However, even when he was in Old Wanjin, he began encouraging industry and commerce, hoping to invigorate the private economy even at a loss. Otherwise, if he only brewed soy sauce and dyed cloth himself, Wanjin would never become a nation.
Now, his silent hard work over the years seems to have finally borne fruit… Well, it’s too early to say it has borne fruit, but it’s not an exaggeration to say it has sprouted and broken through the soil. In any case, the signs are beginning to appear, even if those ironware workshop owners were forced into it, squeezed out of Wanjin by policies, as long as they are willing to go out, it’s a good thing.
Yuan Ye is willing to protect them, but he still needs to ponder carefully—economic issues involve many aspects. It’s necessary to ensure private property is inviolable, to have corresponding laws and regulations, and to provide guidance as well as constraints; one cannot simply unleash a monster.
There are also distribution issues. Ultimately, all economic problems are distribution problems. Unequal distribution of spoils can lead to bloodshed.
After Heihachiro Taira left, Yuan Ye did not receive any more “old subordinates.” Instead, he fell into deep thought, pacing back and forth in the private room, too preoccupied to even pay much attention to the new play Uozumi Hikoshirō had staged.
This matter was somewhat difficult for him. Throughout his life, he had never imagined that he would one day need to establish a proper nation, and thus he severely lacked learning and training in this area.
In contrast, the opposite was happening in the adjacent private room. Uozumi Hikoshirō’s new play was staged well, and Inu-hime, A Hu, and others watched with rapt attention and deep engagement.
The Kabuki performances of later Japan were still in their nascent stage during this era, considered low-class entertainment unfit for polite society. Proper performances were still to be found in “Noh Drama”—which originated from “Sangaku” introduced from China during the Nara period, later merging with the native “Sarugaku” to take shape. It was further refined by Kan’ami and Zeami during the Muromachi period, becoming an exclusive “Yugen” art for the nobility, centered around masks, stylized movements, and religious themes.
Uozumi Hikoshirō’s ability to gather a troupe from Izumi Heiji indicated he was an experienced individual. He had spent time in Kyoto and Sunpu, making him a semi-cultured person. Initially, he aimed to emulate Noh drama, aspiring to be an “artist.” However, after staging his play and inviting Yuan Ye, the sole “Wanjin noble,” for appraisal, Yuan Ye couldn’t understand it. It was perhaps like a Gen Z watching Peking Opera: three minutes for a single line, thirty seconds for a single pose; everything was unbearably slow and utterly baffling.
Yuan Ye came with enthusiasm but left disappointed. The only thing he could understand was the “Kyogen” performed between Noh acts to warm up the audience—essentially slapstick comedy in spoken dialogue. Yuan Ye, being a commoner with no trace of refinement, could only watch this.
Of course, Yuan Ye wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand. After the “Uozumi-style Noh Drama” was staged at the Wanjin Theater, it was only lively for three or four days before becoming deserted. The people of Wanjin were all of peasant stock, even less artistically inclined than Yuan Ye. Those who watched felt their money was completely wasted.
Uozumi Hikoshirō was greatly disheartened and almost gave up. However, after deep reflection, he finally understood.
He was now a Wanjin resident, and the audience he should serve were Wanjin people. Anything Yuan Ye and the Wanjin people couldn’t understand was trash; otherwise, he deserved to go bankrupt. With this realization, he immediately set aside “Noh Drama” and made “Kyogen” the main focus of his performances. He also, through Izumi Heiji’s connections, invited A Man again for guidance before starting to stage new plays.
Through this process, Wanjin theater now somewhat resembles modern stage plays or musical comedies, or perhaps a medley of skits, primarily aimed at making people laugh. However, due to the inertia of the era, each act still incorporates some choral or solo singing.
The costumes and sets also closely resemble Wanjin’s reality. Even the story themes have changed, no longer focusing on religious myths or ghost legends, but drawing from folk tales for adaptation, aiming to be “down-to-earth” as Yuan Ye put it.
Inu-hime, A Hu, and others felt a strong sense of identification watching the protagonist, Matsunomaru, bravely step forward when unable to pay the high annual tribute, outsmarting the local lords and samurai to save the entire village from danger. He then feigned madness and gambled with the monks at the temple, successfully helping the village be exempted from usurious interest and the cost of rice for oxen.
The actor playing the monk was particularly outstanding, vividly portraying a hypocrite who appeared virtuous but was inwardly greedy. The dialogue was also brilliantly crafted, with various puns and homophones that elicited laughter. Coupled with Matsunomaru’s positive image and his foresight in every situation, setting up layers of verbal traps, the monk was left with no recourse but to suffer in silence. This perfectly showcased the humor of “Kyogen” and the wisdom of the common folk, making it a truly brilliant performance.
However, the story then took a sharp turn. Despite Matsunomaru’s cleverness, he could no longer stay in the village and was forced to leave his hometown to make a living in Kyoto. Along the way, he was conscripted by two low-ranking samurai to carry their luggage, with the threat of a swift death if he refused.
Unexpectedly, Matsunomaru was indeed clever. He found an opportunity, and while the two were bathing, he stole their swords and armor. He then threatened them, forcing them to bark like dogs, walk like chickens, sing street songs, and perform a monkey dance after stripping. Finally, he successfully took their money and fled, leaving the two low-ranking samurai with no way to express their grievances, much to the audience’s amusement.
Midway, through the mouths of the two low-ranking samurai, there was a brief mockery of the Emperor’s impoverished state. They also joked about a past female emperor who went on a two-and-a-half-year campaign to the Korean Peninsula, became pregnant while sitting on a rock, and returned to give birth to a young emperor.
The audience didn’t react much to this. The imperial court had long lost its authority, and using it as a source of humor was not something anyone feared. After all, Yuan Ye was present, and any issues would be the theater’s problem. A little laughter wouldn’t bring them trouble.
Subsequently, Matsunomaru successfully arrived in Kyoto and found work at a rice shop. Due to his intelligence, he quickly gained the boss’s appreciation and was even liked by the boss’s plump daughter. However, Matsunomaru still longed for his childhood sweetheart and planned to return in a few years to marry her, resolutely refusing the boss’s daughter, which led to more humorous situations.
But at this point, the plot took another sharp turn. The rice shop owner offended some samurai in Kyoto. Despite Matsunomaru’s best efforts to mediate, the owner’s family soon met a tragic end. Matsunomaru was also forced to flee back to his hometown.
This time, however, his luck was not as good. On the way, he was captured by samurai from two warring factions and forced to serve as a rookie ashigaru. He began to slack off on the battlefield, staging various farcical escapades to save his own life. Finally, through a series of events that would be impossible in reality, both warring local lords annihilated each other. He then happily returned to his hometown, preparing to marry his childhood sweetheart.
Unexpectedly, his hometown was suffering from a famine. Simultaneously, the lord was at war with the neighboring lord, relentlessly collecting annual tribute. Various taxes for military provisions, horse rental fees, and land taxes were levied endlessly. In just a few short years, his childhood sweetheart had also died, buried alive by the local lord as a “human sacrifice” during castle construction.
By this point, the laughter in the audience had completely vanished. They watched Matsunomaru weep on stage, singing a solo lament, denouncing the injustices of the world and questioning why the world had become this way.
A Hu’s heart also tightened, feeling a sense of empathy. The suffering of commoners was often similar. Even though the Okabe family held a slightly higher status, in the eyes of the samurai, they were still insignificant and forced to do many things against their will, much like how she herself was sent to Wanjin by Oda Nobunaga, completely without agency.
The audience members felt it even more deeply. After all, they had truly experienced misfortune, paid exorbitant annual tributes, been forced to fight in wars, and many of their family members had truly starved to death. Now, watching Matsunomaru, they couldn’t help but recall their own tragic pasts. When they heard Matsunomaru on stage seeking a haven and finally wiping away his tears, preparing to lead the remaining villagers to cross the sea to Wanjin, applause erupted immediately, and many even had tears welling up in their eyes.
Indeed, people of this era were relatively simple, not yet corrupted by “wish-fulfillment” novels or dramas. Even though this play was very patriotic, practically screaming “Only Lord Yuan Ye is the savior,” it still had an incredibly strong sense of immersion, stirring their emotions.
A Hu couldn’t help but stand up and clap vigorously, just like the people of Wanjin. Although she hadn’t thought deeply about it, she simply found the story very exciting. This new type of drama was more entertaining than pure “Kyogen,” but she didn’t know about the future.
Perhaps one day, she too would consider Wanjin a haven and wish to “escape” here to live. She might also feel that the Emperor and samurai were superfluous and no longer wish to be ruled by them.
Perhaps. After all, many things happen subtly. Who knows what fruit they will bear in the future?
…
“How was it?” A Man also stood in the private room, clapping. At the same time, she raised her Dou Dou eyebrows and turned to Yuan Ye, asking, “Are you satisfied with the new play this time?”
“Not bad, better than I imagined.”
Yuan Ye did watch the latter half, as it pertained to internal propaganda, which was a serious matter. However, he felt the protagonist’s suffering wasn’t intense enough; the villagers hadn’t all died, or the male protagonist wasn’t sympathetic enough. Perhaps the story could be adapted with the childhood sweetheart as the main perspective, reimagined as a “Japanese White-Haired Woman,” which would be more suitable for large-scale promotion. If you don’t occupy the high ground for propaganda, others will, and the samurai of Japan truly are man-eaters, squeezing the very marrow from the commoners’ bones. This is not defamation.
However, the current version is acceptable. Uozumi Hikoshirō did a good job.
Yuan Ye thought for a moment and then said, “Let’s proceed with this idea. Have Uozumi Hikoshirō stage more plays. If they wish to tour the Chita Peninsula, we can provide subsidies. Also, they can perform for the Wanjin Army garrisons. Have him submit his pricing; he won’t be at a loss.”
“Discuss these matters with Endo. As long as I can account for myself to the old man, that’s fine.” A Man was only looking out for the Kōka immigrants out of consideration for Izumi Heiji. Saying a few good words for them was the limit; she wouldn’t get personally involved, as she didn’t have that much free time.
Yuan Ye nodded casually, not particularly concerned, but then asked curiously, “Where did you say the ‘added ingredients’ were? Were they added in the first half?”
A Man had insisted on dragging him to watch the new play, constantly mentioning that it had “added ingredients.” He had assumed it would involve indecent performances, like strip dances. If there were, he would have hung Uozumi Hikoshirō up and severely investigated the theater, organizing a comprehensive crackdown on vice.
Even if A Man was involved, even if it was just by offering bad advice or indulging, she would still face consequences, let alone Uozumi Hikoshirō.
His tolerance for gambling, pornography, and drugs was zero. Although ancient women might not be suited for heavy physical labor, they had advantages in certain lighter tasks and were an important part of the labor force. Therefore, anyone who dared to compete with him for labor or corrupt social morals should not blame him for taking their heads. Prostitution brings a series of social problems, including gambling, human trafficking, organized crime, and disease transmission, easily leading to social unrest. Production, however, requires stability and order. Thus, if this trade dared to surface in Wanjin, he would truly kill people, catching one and killing them without mercy.
A Man didn’t think as much as he did. She directly replied, “Didn’t you notice? The jokes about the Emperor! The Emperor’s succession is illegitimate now, isn’t it? I heard from the old man that the imperial family is also quite chaotic. A female emperor led people out to war for years, and when she returned, her belly was already big. It’s hard to say whose child it was…”
She actually never understood what Yuan Ye was doing and suspected he wanted to become Emperor. Even though Wanjin’s current strength made it virtually impossible to aim for control of the world, this didn’t stop her from causing trouble now. Thus, she secretly instructed Uozumi Hikoshirō to add “Emperor jokes,” feeling it might be useful in the future.
If it’s useless, that’s fine too. She considered it entertainment; the Emperor wasn’t worth much in her eyes.
Yuan Ye really hadn’t noticed such jokes. At that time, his mind wasn’t on the play; he was contemplating whether to implement the “Edict of Four Classes Equality” and the “Property Protection Law” during this period.
However, having such jokes was also fine. How many divisions did the Emperor have? Besides, he didn’t want to be Emperor, so damaging the Emperor’s reputation was of no consequence to him.
“So that’s what it was. Not bad, the jokes are quite interesting.”
Yuan Ye didn’t take it seriously, nodding perfunctorily. His mind returned to the new laws, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt this period was actually quite suitable.
The only two daimyo who could threaten him, Oda Nobunaga and Matsudaira Motoyasu, were either fighting with Mino or fighting with the Imagawa Family. Even if he did something earth-shattering on the peninsula, they wouldn’t have the time to pay attention to him.
Moreover, this was a crucial step. Wanjin should start acting like a nation, no longer like his large private enterprise. This matter should be done sooner rather than later.
