Chapter 458 Public Enemy
Chapter 458 Public Enemy
"The Chi Chi people," Tan Chin Chuan, a former manager at OCBC Bank, said eloquently, "or rather, a professional agricultural lending group headed by the Chi Chi people."
"Qizhi people...Qizhi people..." Zhang Chi chewed on the word in his mouth.
This is a group of Tamil merchants from Madras state in southern Sindhu and the Tamil region. They belong to the third level of the caste system, the "Vaishya" class, which is higher than the "Shudra" and "Untouchables".
Because Pegu is close to the Sindhu colony, it was not even separated from John's Sindhu colony in 37 AD and became a direct colony. Therefore, there are a large number of Sindhu immigrants here.
Although the Qizhi people account for a very small proportion of the total population among the more than 100 ethnic groups in Bago, they are senior collaborators or senior traitors of the John colonists.
They controlled the economy of Myanmar's major agricultural regions through usury and land mortgages. That is, before the war, the Chit Chi people controlled more than 50% of the land in 13 major rice-growing areas on the vast plains from Yangon to Mandalay.
Looking at the written information, Zhang Chi couldn't help but sigh that the third brother, who was considered particularly weak in his impression, was actually doing very well in Pegu at this time.
Zhang Chi shook his head and sneered, "It's them again."
"This isn't the first time they've blocked our path," Chen Zhenchuan said coldly. "Agricultural credit has always been their territory."
"Before the war, the total amount of their loans reached 45 million gold pounds (about 220 million US dollars), which is equivalent to 80% of Pegu's total agricultural debt." Chen Zhenchuan's tone was flat, but Zhang Chi's face was full of murderous intent when he heard it.
"These guys are John's white gloves. When we want to build the Agricultural Bank, they will be the first to jump out and oppose it, because we are going to destroy their jobs."
Zhang Chi smiled coldly: "A bunch of cancer left over from the colonial era. This is our Nanyang version of The Merchant of Venice."
Before Pegu was newly established, in order to maintain stability, he did not take harsh measures to deal with the Qizhi people, but maintained the status quo.
Now that these Qizhi people were blind, he had no choice but to let them taste what the Anmin Army's "six sticks in one second" was like.
Thinking of this, he picked up the teacup and drank it all in one gulp.
Chen Zhenchuan looked at Zhang Chi's ruthless expression and knew that this time these "Merchant of Venice" here were in big trouble.
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Jin Sanchen left the countryside before dawn.
In his left hand, he carried a bamboo basket containing a small jar of preserved vegetables with preserved vegetables and a piece of bacon wrapped in oil paper. These were specially prepared by his sister-in-law for the doctor in the city to taste, hoping that he would prescribe more medicine.
In my right hand, I held the money I had saved from selling fresh vegetables recently, and put it in my pocket, close to my chest. I could feel the heavy weight every time I walked. It felt like both money and life.
He went to the city to get medicine for his father.
My father contracted lung disease while fleeing famine. His cough has been getting worse lately. He wakes up in the middle of the night coughing. His face is pale and he has become much thinner.
Jin Sanchen knew that it was his vitals that were leaking air, but there was nothing he could do. He could only rush to Mandalay City and try his luck.
Fate was indeed fickle. Less than a year ago, he was still called Jin Shitou, a beggar who had fled from Henan Province. Now he had settled in an immigration settlement in Southeast Asia, with a house and land allotted to him.
Although the land is newly reclaimed and not as good as cultivated land, it is mine after all.
He could attend night school, so he took advantage of his free time to learn to read and write, and passed the C-level Mandarin exam. His teacher said he was a fast learner and might even pass the B-level exam.
To commend his efforts, Administrator Zheng personally gave him a certificate and bonus and selected him as an outstanding immigration representative.
Whether in Henan Province or Bago, the most prosperous places Jin Sanchen usually goes to are towns and villages.
Even if he tried to let go of his imagination as his night school teacher had imagined, Mandalay was still much more prosperous than he had imagined.
The street is lined with neatly arranged two- or three-story buildings, with whitewashed brick walls and blue-green glass inlaid on the doors and windows. Some of them even have signs hanging on them: "Wenchang Pharmacy", "Nanhua Optical Shop", "Southern Guangdong Silk Shop", "Daxin Tea House", etc.
The most impressive one was a new building at a crossroads, with four floors. The large glass door downstairs was flashing with light. He heard that it was the "Nanhua Department Store", which specialized in selling fashionable gadgets, including refrigerators, electric fans, and radios. Even the foreigners in the city loved to go there.
"After I get the medicine for Dad, I'll go back to the Nanhua Department Store and have a look," he thought to himself. Not to buy anything, but just to see the world.
People, after climbing out of ditches and bumps, always want to look up.
When he reached the intersection of Xinnan Street, he saw a group of people gathered around a newsstand. Someone was shouting:
"Breaking News, Breaking News! The truth behind the Qizhi people's usury and land grabbing has been exposed!"
When Jin Sanchen heard the words "Qi Zhiren", he couldn't help but stop.
He heard his teacher mention this during night school classes, saying that these people were Sindhu merchants from the west who were doing very well in Pegu. They had relied on the backing of the John colonial government to engage in usury, sell land, and oppress tenants, and were vampires of the common people.
In order to maintain their extravagant lifestyle and their land, these Qizhi people became spies for the Japanese after the Japanese invaded.
After Commissioner Zhang liberated Pegu, the adults generously let them go. Unexpectedly, these Qizhi people were ungrateful and started lending money at high interest rates and oppressing tenants again.
As a farmer, Jin Sanchen, with his simple world view and values, naturally hated landlords like Qi Zhiren.
So he went over, took out a coin and bought a copy of the Nan Hua Daily News. The bold headline on the top was particularly eye-catching:
The Qizhi people monopolized agricultural lending and occupied 50 million mu of rice fields. Their evil deeds are too numerous to list!
Attached below is a picture of an aerial photo of a rice field somewhere in northern Yangon. The continuous rice fields are all owned by the Qizhi people, and the contract terms of the tenants are also disclosed.
A rent of 60% is required for each acre of rice field. If the rent is in arrears, the borrower has to borrow from the Qizhi people at high interest rates. Real estate, furniture, and farm tools can all be mortgaged. If the mortgage is insufficient, the person's head will also be counted.
Jin Sanchen frowned as he watched.
"Isn't this just a bunch of landlord bullies?" a nearby woman selling jelly exclaimed in amazement. "No wonder these new immigrants haven't been able to get any good land lately and have to reclaim it themselves. It turns out they've taken it all away."
"You know what?" another local boy in shorts interrupted in broken Mandarin. "My uncle used to farm in Minglatun, but at the beginning of the year, the land was taken away by the Qizhi people. They said he owed rent, so they no longer rented it to him. Even his cattle were taken away."
Jin Sanchen recalled that when he was still in Henan Province, his own piece of broken sloping land had to be watered with small buckets, and one acre did not produce much grain;
Although the whole family has now been allocated 21 mu of land, the newly reclaimed land is always inferior to the cultivated land in the Irrawaddy Delta.
I heard that the Qizhi people rented cultivated land and relied on the tropical monsoon climate that the night school teacher talked about to have two crops a year. Throughout the year, one acre could produce four to five hundred kilograms of rice. The harvest was several times higher than that in China. The rent was also high, and they made a net profit of dozens of silver dollars a year.
(Modern hybrid rice can yield over 1,000 kilograms per mu in a single season, but Pegu is still using old varieties, and the yield per mu has not increased much compared to World War II.)
No wonder everyone is jealous.
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