Yang Yi seemed to ignore the astonished look on their faces and continued speaking.
“In addition to overtime pay, we can also use year-end bonuses to motivate workers to put in more effort at the steel factory. For example, the normal working hours are six per day.
“If a worker is willing to stay beyond that, the extra time will be recorded and accumulated. By the end of the year, we calculate how many additional hours they have worked.”
Wu Zhao narrowed her eyes slightly. She seemed to grasp Yang Yi’s deeper meaning and immediately asked, “Then, based on their extra hours, will you give them certain rewards?”
Yang Yi cast her a strange look. The empress was still too young.
He shook his head. “Of course not. If we rewarded every extra hour worked, do you know how much more we’d have to pay?
“What I mean is to rank the workers by their accumulated overtime hours…” His lips curved into a smirk. “In the end, only the top three workers with the most overtime will receive the year-end bonus. This way, we minimize costs while maximizing effort.”
Wu Zhao and Shangguan Wan’er were stunned into silence. They had never encountered such a scheme before.
Shangguan Wan’er finally broke the silence. “What about those who worked extra but didn’t make it into the top three?”
Yang Yi blinked, feigning innocence. “What about them?”
Shangguan Wan’er’s lips parted, speechless.
Yang Yi continued nonchalantly, “If they didn’t make it into the top three, then naturally, they don’t get any bonuses.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “At this point, we make sure the rewards are just generous enough to make those who didn’t win burn with jealousy.”
Wu Zhao’s gaze sharpened.
Yang Yi’s voice remained smooth. “This way, those who missed out this year will double their efforts next year, and those who tasted the reward will work even harder to keep it. In the end, though we officially set the workday at six hours, most workers will willingly put in at least eight.
“With a system , no matter what grievances the Qing people have against the Great Zhou, they’ll be too busy earning a living to entertain rebellious thoughts.”
Wu Zhao’s lips parted slightly, unable to hide her astonishment. Yang Yi’s plan was ruthless. Whether they received the year-end bonus or not, the Qing workers would be locked in an endless cycle of competition, all for the factory’s benefit.
A simple system, yet it secured a massive workforce without additional costs.
This man was truly ruthless.
Wu Zhao was shaken, her gaze on Yang Yi unreadable. His final remark, in particular, had struck her. If the Qing people were exhausted from long hours of labor, rebellion would become nothing more than an impossible fantasy.
It was an enlightening realization.
Not long ago, Xu Jingzong and others had submitted reports detailing unrest in the newly annexed Qing territories. Remnants of the old regime were still stirring trouble, even leading small-scale uprisings. Though swiftly suppressed, it was clear that true submission was far from achieved.
Eradicating these lingering rebels was proving difficult, and Wu Zhao had initially planned to station troops there, allowing time and military presence to slowly pacify the people.
But now, Yang Yi’s approach had illuminated another path. If the steel industry flourished there, drawing the Qing people into relentless labor, what time or energy would they have left for rebellion?
Before long, their entire existence would revolve around working for Great Zhou.
Wu Zhao’s eyes gleamed. “Yang Yi, your plan is truly ingenious.”
She nodded decisively. “As you suggest, we shall establish the steel mills in Qing territory and make them the industrial backbone of the Great Zhou.”
Days passed, and the plan quickly set into motion.
In the northern reaches of the former Qing kingdom, Yao Chong arrived with a team of officials and laborers. Work began at once. The foundations of the steel mills were laid, resources gathered, and soon, construction surged forward.
As the weeks slipped by, the landscape transformed.
Where once lay barren lands, now towering furnaces rose against the sky. Smoke curled into the air as molten iron flowed, signaling the birth of Great Zhou’s most ambitious industrial expansion.
Word of the factories spread swiftly, drawing the Qing populace in droves. The wages offered were generous, far surpassing what small businesses could provide. Merchants, farmers, and displaced workers alike flocked to secure positions, desperate for stability.
By the time the factories were fully operational, it was no longer just about employment. It was survival.
Every day, hundreds labored, forging steel that was promptly shipped across Great Zhou. Supplies flowed seamlessly into the empire, fueling its military and infrastructure.
And with each passing day, the once-rebellious Qing people found themselves shackled not by chains, but by necessity.
A few months earlier, whispers of resistance had still lingered in the air. Now, they had faded beneath the relentless clatter of steel.