Although Xie Yuan was a scholar, he did not look down on their rough manners, which made everyone genuinely happy.
During festivals, writing Spring Festival couplets and drawing door charms always required his help. Not to mention that he often gave them ideas—his mind was quick and flexible.
While listening to their conversation, Zhou Xing quietly pulled Xie Yuan aside and asked, “Why do we suddenly have so many paddy fields?”
No wonder she was surprised. At first, they only mentioned two mu of land, but now it had turned into so much more.
“If we can grow rice, the more paddy fields we have, the better. I saw there isn’t much good land by the river anyway,” Xie Yuan said.
In truth, he did not particularly care whether they could successfully grow rice. Their household had too few laborers; even if they took only dry fields, they would still struggle to manage them. If that was the case, rice fields were actually better—rice was more valuable, and even if yields were not high, it was less exhausting.
If he passed the imperial examination and became a scholar, they would also be exempt from taxes.
“Alright, then the more paddy fields the better. I guarantee we can grow rice, as long as there are no natural disasters or man-made calamities,” Zhou Xing said confidently.
Xie Yuan now truly felt she had vision as well as capability.
At this point, he also realized another advantage of her—she was extremely decisive and efficient.
No wonder she insisted on increasing the rice seedlings earlier; if direct broadcasting was used, more seed would indeed be needed per mu.
“I should have prepared more seedlings earlier,” Zhou Xing said, calculating quickly.
“It was my oversight,” Xie Yuan admitted.
After lunch, the laborers went straight back to the fields to work without resting.
After waiting a while and still not seeing the two children return, Zhou Xing guessed they were having too much fun. She wrapped some dry-fried small fish, shrimp, and pork cracklings in leaves and went to Aunt He’s house.
“Aunt He, this is something I made. Please try it.”
Aunt He accepted it and saw even pork cracklings inside.
“Oh, why are you being so polite? Life should be lived carefully,” she said.
At that moment, Lin Shan had already grabbed a handful and put it into her mouth.
The small shrimp were crispy and fragrant, with a light saltiness—very appetizing.
Aunt He pretended to scold her daughter, but also tasted it herself and praised it repeatedly.
After hearing the method, Lin Shan immediately said she would ask her brother to catch some too.
Zhou Xing also explained that adding a little salt and plum vinegar would improve the flavor further.
After leaving the Lin household, she went to find the children by the stream.
They had already caught half a bamboo basket of fish and shrimp and even made a crude fish trap themselves.
After bringing them home and feeding them, she quickly fried the newly caught fish and shrimp again while the iron pot was available.
By evening, the workers returned from the fields.
Lin Tie Niu held a packet of fried fish and felt embarrassed accepting it.
The small fish itself was not valuable, but this fried dish was different.
Salted, coated in batter, and fried until golden—crispy and fragrant, even better than festival offerings.
The better the appearance and quality of fried fish, the more skilled the woman’s cooking was considered in the village.
Xie Yuan also felt proud.
Zhou Xing, however, simply said, “Thank you for your hard work today. There’s nothing good at home, please don’t mind it.”