Song Dynasty: Yuan Dynasty, you didn't expect this, did you? I'm still alive.

May of the eighteenth year of the Mingzhang reign (1462).

Chicago.

This emerging city in North America, nurtured by Eastern Song capital, rose from a swamp in less than ten years to become the third largest city in the Americas, after New York and San Francisco.

United Steel Chicago—the largest heavy industrial base in America—occupied a full three square miles of land on the west side of the city. The west blast furnace burned day and night, with molten iron flowing out of the furnace like blood, cooling into steel ingots, and then being rolled into rails, beams, and plates.

There are twelve chimneys in the factory area, the tallest of which is 120 feet tall, and the thick smoke it spews turns the sky within a ten-mile radius into lead gray.

The air was thick with the smell of sulfur and coke. Newcomers would cough, but those who had stayed longer had stopped coughing—their lungs had gotten used to it.

At this moment, on the top platform of the West Blast Furnace, a thin figure was squatting by the railing, clutching a piece of cotton cloth that was so black that its original color was no longer visible, covering his mouth, and coughing violently.

His name is Chen Changgen, and he is thirty-one years old.

He looks to be fifty years old.

His face was gray, the kind of gray that seeped from his bones, the kind that comes from being baked in the fire for too long and smoked for too long.

His eyes were sunken, his cheekbones were high, and his lips were chapped like a cracked riverbed. The back of his hands was covered with burn scars, old and new, like a piece of paper that had been repeatedly crumpled and then flattened.

He was a furnace operator at the West Blast Furnace, a position he held for seven years.

For seven years, his hearing was damaged by the roar of the blast furnace, his vision was blurred by the furnace fire, and his lungs were filled with soot. He had to stop and catch his breath every few steps.

He once had high expectations for his job.

Because his father was a furnace worker, his father often told him stories about the golden age when he was a child.

At that time, my father was the only breadwinner in the family, yet he was able to provide the whole family with a life free from worries about food and clothing.

And you'll have plenty of vacation time to play with him, go horseback riding, fishing, hunting—what a wonderful life that would be!

Now he has to work 10 hours a day just to barely support his wife and three children, and he works year-round without a break.

You can take leave, but if you take one day off, you will have two days' pay deducted.

He doesn't understand.

Why, why are there such big differences in the same jobs?

Some say that everything now is the fault of the imperial court.

But he didn't believe it. He thought the imperial court was good, and that the current compulsory education, unemployment benefits, pensions, and medical insurance were all provided by the imperial court.

It is evident that the imperial court and officials pitied these workers.

It's all those damn capitalists' fault!

This is a word he just learned; everyone's been saying it lately.

If I have the chance to meet officials or the imperial court, I must report these wicked capitalists and let a just and upright official stand up for them.

Perhaps the imperial court and officials knew, but they had some difficulties that prevented them from taking action.

It's alright. Once the imperial court becomes powerful, the court and officials will be able to speak up for these workers.

Chen Changgen was lost in thought when the supervisors below began to focus their attention on him.

Chen Changgen quickly got to work.

He squatted on the platform on top of the furnace and spat the black phlegm he had coughed up into the outside of the railing.

Then he stood up and picked up the steel shovel.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my chest, and everything went black.

He leaned backward, the steel shovel slipped from his hand, his body flipped half a circle in the air, and he fell from the sixty-foot-high platform.

Below the platform is the slag outlet, from which 200 tons of blast furnace slag are discharged every day at a temperature exceeding 1,000 degrees Celsius.

He didn't shout.

Perhaps they shouted, but their voices were drowned out by the roar of the blast furnace.

When the workers rushed to the railing and looked down, they could only see a burning thing on the red slag pile at the slag outlet—it was no longer recognizable.

When the news reached the factory headquarters, factory director Zhou Zhiyuan was drinking tea in his office.

The tea was pre-Qingming Longjing, transported from Nanjing, packaged in a tin can wrapped in three layers of kraft paper. He took a sip and frowned—the water wasn't good enough. American water simply couldn't compare to the spring water of Changbai Mountain.

"Director Zhou, something has happened at the West Furnace."

Zhou Zhiyuan put down his teacup and glanced at the section chief who had rushed in.

"What is it?"

"A furnace worker...fell into his mouth."

Zhou Zhiyuan paused for a moment. "How did you fall in?"

"The guardrail was old and in disrepair. Chen Changgen, from Henan, had worked at the factory for seven years. The foreman said he must have been working for too long and hadn't recovered when he stood up."

Zhou Zhiyuan remained silent for about three breaths.

"It'll cost money to repair the guardrails again, another huge sum. Why did he have to faint on the blast furnace? Couldn't he have fainted on the ground?"

The section chief remained silent for a moment, then hesitated before saying, "Shouldn't we give the workers a break? Otherwise, Chen Changgen might not be the last one."

Zhou Zhiyuan glared at the section chief. "Don't you know what the situation is like outside? The workers can enjoy a couple of days off, but the factory will go bankrupt if it closes for two days. Thousands of people will lose their jobs, and their whole families depend on this job for food. What? You're going to support them?"

"But the workers outside seem a bit off," the foreman whispered.

"Useless! You can't even handle this simple matter!"

Zhou Zhiyuan picked up the Jingdezhen tea set, moistened his throat with Longjing tea, and prepared for the hard work ahead.

"lead the way."

Outside, workers had already begun to gather around Chen Changgen's body, creating a cacophony of noise.

Nobody knows if they'll be the next ones to fall here.

"Make way, the factory manager is coming."

The workers perked up; it seemed that Chen Changgen's death had caught the attention of the leadership, and they were about to be comforted by them.

With a smile on his face, Zhou Zhiyuan comforted everyone as he walked, saying, "Everyone has been working overtime for a while now, and they all have complaints. So today I'd like to talk to you about how I view this job."

The workers were dumbfounded. They wanted to rest; who wanted to listen to this nonsense?

"Factory manager, look at Old Chen."

Zhou Zhiyuan didn't even look at the group of "Old Chen," but instead raised his hands to signal everyone to listen to him.

Under the long-standing pressure, the workers obediently quieted down.

"Look at me! I treat this company like my home. You guys are working overtime day and night, and I've been just like you, enduring this ordeal in this factory!"

Zhou Zhiyuan raised his voice.

"Believe me, if any of you want a break, get out now!"

"Get lost!"

"I absolutely won't stop you!"

"If you all leave here, you'll all starve. Food is so expensive outside these days! Can the government's meager unemployment benefits support your whole family? Go look at my office; I have plenty of coffee, tea, and other energy drinks. As the factory manager, I haven't worked a minute less than you!"

"What's the situation like now? Every day, countless people are waiting outside for this job. We don't need any of you."

Zhou Zhiyuan's words, accompanied by the heavy pressure of reality, caused the workers' already hunched bodies to bend even lower.

Yes, they can't lose their jobs.

I don't know when it started, but more and more people are unemployed, and the status of these workers is becoming more and more humble.

But a few workers clenched their fists tightly under the pressure. They were not deceived by Zhou Zhiyuan's words; they had never been so clear-headed.

The words of Liezi's speech echoed in their ears.

Capitalists deliberately create unemployment in order to better exploit workers!

It turns out that Liezi was right.

That couldn't be more correct.

"The factory gave you hope to survive, gave your families hope to survive. Your first thought shouldn't be to complain about taking a break, but how to be grateful. Do you understand gratitude?"

"Now that someone's dead, the rest of us need to think about how to shoulder this burden. How to ensure the factory, and our shared home, aren't affected!"

Looking at the silent figures of the crowd, Zhou Zhiyuan's lips curled up slightly.

A bunch of peasants want to rebel?

dream!

Just as Zhou Zhiyuan was contentedly preparing to return to his office to continue savoring the expensive Longjing tea he had bought, a cold voice rang out.

"That's your home, not ours!"

Zhou Zhiyuan turned around in surprise, ready to fire this audacious bastard, but what awaited him was a dark, unsightly fist.

"what!"

Several workers rushed forward and tackled Zhou Zhiyuan to the ground.

Seeing that someone was taking the lead, the remaining workers' suppressed anger was ignited, and they also stepped forward to punch and kick Zhou Zhiyuan.

"Foreman, help me!"

The section chief had already quietly moved away from the crowd.

He doesn't own any shares, so why is he risking his life?

Notifying the government would be enough to justify his salary.

The workers' riot at the United Steel Company in Chicago set the stage for the American Revolution. When the Li Zi and Mexican parties learned of this, they quickly launched an offensive in the public sphere and carried out the first revolution.

To commemorate this revolution sparked by the Chicago United Steel workers' demand to stop working overtime, later generations commemorated it.

This day was designated as Labor Day, with a seven-day holiday for all workers nationwide, and no compensatory leave was allowed.

Of course, some people with ulterior motives later misinterpreted Labor Day as a holiday to encourage labor, which was something no one expected.

"But the workers outside seem a bit off," the foreman whispered.

"Useless! You can't even handle this simple matter!"

Zhou Zhiyuan picked up the Jingdezhen tea set, moistened his throat with Longjing tea, and prepared for the hard work ahead.

"lead the way."

Outside, workers had already begun to gather around Chen Changgen's body, creating a cacophony of noise.

Nobody knows if they'll be the next ones to fall here.

"Make way, the factory manager is coming."

The workers perked up; it seemed that Chen Changgen's death had caught the attention of the leadership, and they were about to be comforted by them.

With a smile on his face, Zhou Zhiyuan comforted everyone as he walked, saying, "Everyone has been working overtime for a while now, and they all have complaints. So today I'd like to talk to you about how I view this job."

The workers were dumbfounded. They wanted to rest; who wanted to listen to this nonsense?

"Factory manager, look at Old Chen."

Zhou Zhiyuan didn't even look at the group of "Old Chen," but instead raised his hands to signal everyone to listen to him.

Under the long-standing pressure, the workers obediently quieted down.

"Look at me! I treat this company like my home. You guys are working overtime day and night, and I've been just like you, enduring this ordeal in this factory!"

Zhou Zhiyuan raised his voice.

"Believe me, if any of you want a break, get out now!"

"Get lost!"

"I absolutely won't stop you!"

"If you all leave here, you'll all starve. Food is so expensive outside these days! Can the government's meager unemployment benefits support your whole family? Go look at my office; I have plenty of coffee, tea, and other energy drinks. As the factory manager, I haven't worked a minute less than you!"

"What's the situation like now? Every day, countless people are waiting outside for this job. We don't need any of you."

Zhou Zhiyuan's words, accompanied by the heavy pressure of reality, caused the workers' already hunched bodies to bend even lower.

Yes, they can't lose their jobs.

I don't know when it started, but more and more people are unemployed, and the status of these workers is becoming more and more humble.

But a few workers clenched their fists tightly under the pressure. They were not deceived by Zhou Zhiyuan's words; they had never been so clear-headed.

The words of Liezi's speech echoed in their ears.

Capitalists deliberately create unemployment in order to better exploit workers!

It turns out that Liezi was right.

That couldn't be more correct.

"The factory gave you hope to survive, gave your families hope to survive. Your first thought shouldn't be to complain about taking a break, but how to be grateful. Do you understand gratitude?"

"Now that someone's dead, the rest of us need to think about how to shoulder this burden. How to ensure the factory, and our shared home, aren't affected!"

Looking at the silent figures of the crowd, Zhou Zhiyuan's lips curled up slightly.

A bunch of peasants want to rebel?

dream!

Just as Zhou Zhiyuan was contentedly preparing to return to his office to continue savoring the expensive Longjing tea he had bought, a cold voice rang out.

"That's your home, not ours!"

Zhou Zhiyuan turned around in surprise, ready to fire this audacious bastard, but what awaited him was a dark, unsightly fist.

"what!"

Several workers rushed forward and tackled Zhou Zhiyuan to the ground.

Seeing that someone was taking the lead, the remaining workers' suppressed anger was ignited, and they also stepped forward to punch and kick Zhou Zhiyuan.

"Foreman, help me!"

The section chief had already quietly moved away from the crowd.

He doesn't own any shares, so why is he risking his life?

Notifying the government would be enough to justify his salary.

The workers' riot at the United Steel Company in Chicago set the stage for the American Revolution. When the Li Zi and Mexican parties learned of this, they quickly launched an offensive in the public sphere and carried out the first revolution.

To commemorate this revolution sparked by the Chicago United Steel workers' demand to stop working overtime, later generations commemorated it.

This day was designated as Labor Day, with a seven-day holiday for all workers nationwide, and no compensatory leave was allowed.

Of course, some people with ulterior motives later misinterpreted Labor Day as a holiday to encourage labor, which was something no one expected.

"But the workers outside seem a bit off," the foreman whispered.

"Useless! You can't even handle this simple matter!"

Zhou Zhiyuan picked up the Jingdezhen tea set, moistened his throat with Longjing tea, and prepared for the hard work ahead.

"lead the way."

Outside, workers had already begun to gather around Chen Changgen's body, creating a cacophony of noise.

Nobody knows if they'll be the next ones to fall here.

"Make way, the factory manager is coming."

The workers perked up; it seemed that Chen Changgen's death had caught the attention of the leadership, and they were about to be comforted by them.

With a smile on his face, Zhou Zhiyuan comforted everyone as he walked, saying, "Everyone has been working overtime for a while now, and they all have complaints. So today I'd like to talk to you about how I view this job."

The workers were dumbfounded. They wanted to rest; who wanted to listen to this nonsense?

"Factory manager, look at Old Chen."

Zhou Zhiyuan didn't even look at the group of "Old Chen," but instead raised his hands to signal everyone to listen to him.

Under the long-standing pressure, the workers obediently quieted down.

"Look at me! I treat this company like my home. You guys are working overtime day and night, and I've been just like you, enduring this ordeal in this factory!"

Zhou Zhiyuan raised his voice.

"Believe me, if any of you want a break, get out now!"

"Get lost!"

"I absolutely won't stop you!"

"If you all leave here, you'll all starve. Food is so expensive outside these days! Can the government's meager unemployment benefits support your whole family? Go look at my office; I have plenty of coffee, tea, and other energy drinks. As the factory manager, I haven't worked a minute less than you!"

"What's the situation like now? Every day, countless people are waiting outside for this job. We don't need any of you."

Zhou Zhiyuan's words, accompanied by the heavy pressure of reality, caused the workers' already hunched bodies to bend even lower.

Yes, they can't lose their jobs.

I don't know when it started, but more and more people are unemployed, and the status of these workers is becoming more and more humble.

But a few workers clenched their fists tightly under the pressure. They were not deceived by Zhou Zhiyuan's words; they had never been so clear-headed.

The words of Liezi's speech echoed in their ears.

Capitalists deliberately create unemployment in order to better exploit workers!

It turns out that Liezi was right.

That couldn't be more correct.

"The factory gave you hope to survive, gave your families hope to survive. Your first thought shouldn't be to complain about taking a break, but how to be grateful. Do you understand gratitude?"

"Now that someone's dead, the rest of us need to think about how to shoulder this burden. How to ensure the factory, and our shared home, aren't affected!"

Looking at the silent figures of the crowd, Zhou Zhiyuan's lips curled up slightly.

A bunch of peasants want to rebel?

dream!

Just as Zhou Zhiyuan was contentedly preparing to return to his office to continue savoring the expensive Longjing tea he had bought, a cold voice rang out.

"That's your home, not ours!"

Zhou Zhiyuan turned around in surprise, ready to fire this audacious bastard, but what awaited him was a dark, unsightly fist.

"what!"

Several workers rushed forward and tackled Zhou Zhiyuan to the ground.

Seeing that someone was taking the lead, the remaining workers' suppressed anger was ignited, and they also stepped forward to punch and kick Zhou Zhiyuan.

"Foreman, help me!"

The section chief had already quietly moved away from the crowd.

He doesn't own any shares, so why is he risking his life?

Notifying the government would be enough to justify his salary.

The workers' riot at the United Steel Company in Chicago set the stage for the American Revolution. When the Li Zi and Mexican parties learned of this, they quickly launched an offensive in the public sphere and carried out the first revolution.

To commemorate this revolution sparked by the Chicago United Steel workers' demand to stop working overtime, later generations commemorated it.

This day was designated as Labor Day, with a seven-day holiday for all workers nationwide, and no compensatory leave was allowed.

Of course, some people with ulterior motives later misinterpreted Labor Day as a holiday to encourage labor, which was something no one expected.