This herb dealer was one she’d worked with all along, nothing had gone wrong in all these years, and Yang Zengyue felt she could trust his character.
And Uncle Liu had always supervised her work, an honest, fair man, and the workers he called in were all diligent.
On top of that, Yang Zengyue would give Uncle Liu an extra fee for supervising and weighing.
After telling Uncle Liu she’d be back before six to settle the wages, she and Chen Jia’er drove off briskly in the pickup.
Both girls had gotten their licenses the moment they turned eighteen, and over seven years in the apocalypse their team had had the odd vehicle to use on missions, so they were both old hands behind the wheel.
Yang Zengyue didn’t drive like a maniac, obeying the traffic laws to the letter, she arrived at the seed shop, parked, and the two of them went in.
Her goal was clear. Yang Zengyue had the owner give her only varieties whose seeds she could save herself for the following year, rather than the high-yield products that required buying new seed every year.
Chen Jia’er didn’t understand this at all, so she quietly asked, and Yang Zengyue explained: “With these high-yield varieties, even if the seeds from the harvest can germinate, the next year’s growth and yield are poor, and we don’t have the means to produce seed ourselves. So I’m taking all the old varieties, the seeds left over after harvesting these can be sown the following year.”
This had also been the only way villagers could obtain seed in the past when they grew their own grain and crops.
Chen Jia’er gave Yang Zengyue a thumbs-up.
Seeing two young women suddenly buy so many seeds, the owner was puzzled and asked, “Neither of you looks like you come from a farming family. Buying this many seeds, planting them for fun?”
Yang Zengyue focused, thought a moment, then answered him, “Then you’ve misjudged us, boss. Our family may not have farmed these past few years, but we really are farmers, and I even studied agriculture in college. So here I am, using the summer break to come home and buy some seeds to practice with.”
Her words sounded utterly earnest, not the least bit like a joke, and looking at the two girls the owner actually felt it was a pity.
A pity to waste those good looks.
Of all things to do, why deal with clods of dirt, could they really bear that kind of hardship?
The owner shook his head.
Still, he figured the two girls were probably just playing around, wasting a bit of grain seed, that was all.
Yang Zengyue glanced at the owner, seeing right through his thoughts.
But if she cared what other people thought, she wouldn’t be Yang Zengyue.
She’d originally planned to buy more seeds, but Yang Zengyue worried that large bulk purchases would draw too much attention, so she and Chen Jia’er switched to another shop.
Splitting their buying across several shops, the two of them bought several hundred catties of seed—rice, corn, peanuts, soybeans, chili peppers, eggplant, tomatoes, string beans, watermelon, and more.
Nearly every vegetable and fruit seed Yang Zengyue could think of, she bought.
According to her earlier plan, thirty mu of rice, sowing it now would be right on time.
The climate around Sikun Mountain was quite good, two rice crops could be grown each year, and this was exactly the busy double-cropping season of years past.
Transplanting the seedlings around early August by the solar calendar, they could harvest in October, dry the grain, and put it in the warehouse.
Ten mu of corn, with the remaining ten mu saved for winter wheat, though with no spring next year, the wheat yield might be very low, and drying it would be a problem too.
As for sweet potatoes, potatoes, sesame, peanuts, chili peppers, and other drought-tolerant crops, those could be planted on the reclaimed wasteland.
Rice could only be grown for this one season for now, next year, and the year after, and even further out, it wouldn’t be suitable.
Winter wheat could be, though the yield probably wouldn’t be good—
because the sunlight essential for crop growth would vanish completely for a very long stretch, and the sun wouldn’t reappear until three years later.
Growing rice in greenhouses clearly wasn’t realistic, by then they could only grow potatoes, soybeans, and other vegetables and fruit.
The rice harvested before the winter month would be enough to feed them for a very long time.
After buying the seeds, Yang Zengyue and Chen Jia’er didn’t linger and drove straight home.
It was already three in the afternoon when they got back.
Ravenously hungry, the two of them threw together a bowl of noodles, and then Yang Zengyue headed down the mountain again.
She had to go find people in the village to help.
How to prepare the seedbeds for sowing, renting a mini-tiller from another village, hiring people, all sorts of tasks had to be arranged.
Up on the mountain, Chen Jia’er hauled the seeds into the warehouse, sorted and packed them, and then added her mark to the seeds, that way their viability period could be extended, long and long.
Once she’d done all this, Chen Jia’er clapped her hands and, looking at the full warehouse, felt a swell of accomplishment.
She realized she had so much to learn, she wished she could split herself into three.
Jiuxiao hadn’t been idle after the girls went out, either.
After finishing his exercises, he picked up his phone and made a call, telling Shi Baigu, the current head of the Shi family in this generation, to transfer all his dividends from these past years into his bank account.
Before hanging up, Jiuxiao also insisted that Shi Baigu bring the child to Sikun Mountain, he had something to discuss.
Shi Baigu, who received the call, was stunned for a good long while.
She checked the contact note on her phone, it did indeed read “Grandpa Jiu.”
This was the number her grandfather had made her save without fail seven years ago, before he passed, with the instruction that the moment this number called her, she must satisfy any request, no matter what.
For all these years, this ancestor of the Shi family had never once contacted the family.
Shi Baigu knit her brows tightly. It wasn’t that she worried the Shi family couldn’t produce the money, she was afraid Grandpa Jiu had been swindled.
And besides, what matter couldn’t be discussed over the phone, that she had to bring Shi Rongchuan along?
After thinking for a while, Shi Baigu called her son, who was still asleep, telling him to get up shortly and go nowhere, she had something to tell him.
Shi Rongchuan got up as soon as he took the call. Coming downstairs, he saw the extremely grave look on his mother Shi Baigu’s face, and his heart lurched. Surely the Meng family hadn’t stirred up more trouble?
Shi Rongchuan walked over and sat down beside Shi Baigu, asking a little urgently, “Mom, what could rattle you like this first thing in the morning? It’s not their family, is it?”
For a moment Shi Baigu couldn’t place who “their family” meant, she paused before saying, “No. It’s someone I mentioned to you before, your great-grandfather’s youngest brother, your Great-Grandfather Jiu. He just called me, saying he wants all the dividends he’s accumulated in the Shi family over the years.”
Shi Rongchuan let out a breath. As long as it wasn’t the Meng family, it was a small matter.
“Then just give it to him.” Shi Rongchuan didn’t care in the least, that money was Great-Grandfather Jiu’s to begin with.
Shi Baigu rolled her eyes. Shi Rongchuan was still too young, didn’t think deeply enough. “Don’t you wonder, a man of seventy, what does he want with all that money? Something big must have happened, or else he’s been swindled.”
Shi Rongchuan thought for a good while before he recalled what Shi Baigu had told him about this Great-Grandfather Jiu. “Him, I remember you said before that he’s a man of cultivation, and doesn’t set much store by material things. For him to suddenly want this much money, it’s genuinely worth being suspicious about. Mom, didn’t you ask Great-Grandfather Jiu?”
Shi Baigu shot her son a sidelong glance. “How could I not? I asked. He airily said he wants to start a tourism project and pull in investment.”
“So?” Doing a project sounded fine—Shi Rongchuan didn’t understand his mother’s worry.