CHAPTER 289: CHAPTER 211: IT’S POSSIBLE

Hirajima Yoshiziro sat in a street-facing tavern in New Wanjin, sipping on the slightly sour and lingeringly sweet "Bamboo Fruit Brew"—a fruit wine made from bamboo tubes, wild berries, and a small amount of yam. Since it used up very little grain and largely sourced wild fruit from the countryside, it served as a kind of disguised disaster relief, so it had been publicly commended by Harano, and was considered the "number one famous drink" in Wanjin these last two years.

Of course, the taste... well, you could only call it passable. In Hirajima Yoshiziro’s opinion, it wasn’t anywhere near as good as shochu or sake; at best, it could compete with cloudy rice wine.

But this wine had the advantage of timing. In the previous two years, Wanjin suffered disasters, grain was in short supply, and not to mention rice or wheat—even miscellaneous grains and black beans came under rationing. Many taverns were forced to close, but this tavern managed to find a way out during adversity, growing bigger and stronger and even surpassing the old favorites. Its flavor had become accepted by the Wanjin people, and this slightly sour taste was praised by quite a few folks.

Sometimes hard work just can’t beat good luck, huh!

Hirajima Yoshiziro put down his cup, sighing inwardly, and felt deeply envious of the tavern owner he’d never met. After all, compared with that person, he really was unlucky—a government disaster relief effort turned this otherwise unremarkable wine into a famed brand, while in his case, it meant ironware prices collapsed, and he couldn’t make a living anymore.

He was feeling down, when the person he’d invited arrived as well—his old friend and younger buddy, Ishikuro.

The two of them were basically contemporaries: back then, both were bought by Maeshima Shichiro from Atsuta Port and brought back to Wanjin. Together, they’d dug ditches and built houses as laborers, then transferred to Iron Field to play in the mud, and eventually ended up in the iron workshop together. In short, during their first years in Wanjin, they always ate and lived together; their bond ran deep.

Hirajima Yoshiziro didn’t stand on ceremony with his old friend, and called out from his seat, "Rokuro, over here!"

Ishikuro didn’t stand on ceremony either, came right over and poured himself a drink from the sake pot, then, after swallowing a big mouthful, grinned and said, "Jiro, from now on call me Ishino Heisei."

"Oh, you’ve picked yourself a name?" Hirajima Yoshiziro wasn’t surprised. Lately, Wanjin was enforcing the Household Registration Law, which had requirements about ’names’ to solve the problem of so many bumpkins with the same names flooding Wanjin—In the Wanjin Army, they’d run into this before: shout ’Jiro,’ and twenty or thirty people would look up, with six or seven answering.

So these days, everyone was racking their brains for a good name. Even Hirajima Yoshiziro had picked a new one: Hirajima Yoshinari. His "Hirajima" hadn’t been a surname at first—it was the name of his iron workshop, "Hirajima Iron Shop," which is why people called him Hirajima Yoshiziro.

Ishikuro was delighted to have a "family name" and cheerfully said, "That’s right, from now on, my son will be called Ishino too, and my grandson, and my great-grandson, they’ll all be Ishino."

"Congratulations, congratulations." Hirajima Yoshiziro gave a gentle round of applause to show his congratulations, then couldn’t help but rib him, "You’d better have a son before you start thinking about all that!"

Ishikuro gave a hearty laugh and didn’t mind at all, then turned to him in concern, "Jiro, what’s the matter that you wanted to see me about all of a sudden?"

The smile faded from Hirajima Yoshiziro’s face. He sighed and said, "I wanted to ask you whether the Third Wanjin Iron Workshop has any plans to hire anyone soon?"

The Third Wanjin Iron Workshop was a "State-Owned Factory" in Wanjin, mainly producing agricultural tools. Back when Ishikuro didn’t get bamboozled into starting his own business, he just kept working steadily at the Wanjin Iron Workshop. Later, after Harano grabbed control of the Chita Peninsula and expanded their territory, he got a promotion and was transferred to the newly established Third Wanjin Iron Workshop as a middle manager—basically a government factory ’cadre’ with a secure salary, whose income counted as a bit above average in the Wanjin system!

Now, the Third Wanjin Iron Workshop was a good job, especially in the last two years, with a lot of disaster victims relocated near New Wanjin—a job with a decent and stable income was in high demand. Ishikuro had been asked about this a lot lately, so he immediately asked in return, "Jiro, are you looking to recommend someone?"

This was a bit tricky—for using one’s position for personal gain was looked at closely from above. Still, given his seniority, he could probably pull some strings and get a temp job slot, but then it would be up to the person to prove themselves. If they were capable and hardworking and caught the right opportunity, they could land a permanent spot. If not, it would just be barely making ends meet.

Hirajima Yoshiziro opened his mouth, and even his rough, fire-cracked cheeks blushed red from embarrassment after years of working by the furnace, but circumstances were stronger than pride. Even though it was awkward, he still came out with it: "Um... actually, it’s me who needs a job. Could you... help me ask around... sigh..."

Ishikuro froze, taken aback. "Your iron workshop..."

"I can’t keep it going anymore." Hirajima Yoshiziro sighed deeply. "Ironware just isn’t selling these days, and Lord Endo hardly sends any orders. In the market, I can’t shift the old stock, and don’t dare make new—yet I still have to pay my workers, and the loans from the bank need repaying, so... I’m going to shut the workshop down."

"I see..." Ishikuro more or less understood how it was. He was at a loss for words for a moment.

These past couple of years there was a policy to get all the farmers on the Chita Peninsula equipped with iron agricultural tools, to boost crop yields, improve land reclamation, and speed up construction of the level-three roads (within villages and nearby). So the "State-Owned Iron Workshop" practically sold at cost, or even at a small loss. The Wanjin government would then distribute those tools to desperately poor farmers with rewards, future installment payments, and state subsidies, betting on the overall benefits down the road.