Song Tan’s Chronicle - Chapter 112.2

How could there be only this little left? Mao Li quickly joined in with a smile,

“I was wondering why you sent over so much purple vetch. Later, I found out at the market that it sells for such a high price. Look at me…”

She made a shameful face, “I thought it was two yuan per pound and asked to buy ten yuan worth. Tan Tan got angry and refused to sell.”

Song Tan had never mentioned this when she returned, so it was Wu Lan’s first time hearing about it.

Hearing the sarcastic tone, Wu Lan felt annoyed. She thought, “Twenty yuan per pound, and you wanted to buy five pounds for ten yuan? What a dream! Even with family, you shouldn’t calculate things like that! A gift is a gift, and a sale is a sale; they are two different things.”

But before she could say anything, Song Sancheng walked back with Eldest Song and Zhu Jun, smiling as he held a bundle of yellow paper.

“Let’s go and pay respects at the grave.”

Eldest Song looked around the yard, “Where is Dad?”

Proudly, Song Sancheng raised his chin, “He’s at the back mountain. Tan Tan wants to plant fruit trees there, and Dad is watching over the work.”

Eldest Song was startled, “Planting fruit trees?”

“She isn’t joking about it. You’re just letting her do whatever she wants? If she loses money, it won’t be a small amount.”

“Besides…” he glanced toward the back mountain, “I don’t see anything happening up there.”

Since it was a family discussion, Song Sancheng didn’t think much about losing money and added proudly, “As soon as Tan Tan came back, the village secretary said she was a college student returning to start a business and insisted that we lease the whole area of the back mountain.”

“They’re offering subsidies and support. Now we’re planting fruit trees on that deserted mountain. Today, they’re digging holes, and the saplings should arrive by afternoon.”

Thanks to the efficient young excavator operator Yeping found, a job originally planned for five to seven days was almost done in less than four.

Now, he was digging the holes with a large excavator bucket, making perfect pits with each scoop. After a bit of finishing work, they would be ready to plant.

Ah, the young man Yeping brought in is really something!

However, he went to the city to pick up the saplings this morning, so he wasn’t around at the moment.

Talking about this, Song Sancheng looked a bit worried, “Planting the trees a few days late, I wonder if it will affect the harvest.”

Wu Lan couldn’t stand his boastful attitude and quickly interrupted,

“You should go and burn the paper; it’s almost noon. And don’t forget to tell the farmhands to stay for lunch today.”

The farmhands were paid well, but they had agreed not to provide meals, and they didn’t expect any.

The village had relatives, and they usually ate at their houses.

Now that the fieldwork was nearly done, it wouldn’t be right not to offer them a meal.

Seeing that it was getting late, Song Sancheng quickly led Eldest Song and Zhu Jun to the back mountain.

Paying respects at the grave was traditionally a man’s task in the local custom. Song Hongmei and Mao Li could go if they wanted, but it wasn’t necessary.

However, Mao Li and Sun Yanyan were interested in what other good things could be found in the fields. Song Hongmei, seeing the large amount of food that needed to be prepared for a dozen or so people, was busy helping with the cooking.

Just then, Tan Tan drove back with Qiao Qiao.

The car was also parked at the gate, emitting a faint odor. Tan Tan connected a hose to the outdoor faucet and was washing it down.

Wu Lan noticed and asked curiously, “Didn’t you say you were going for a drive around the back mountain? What did you load up with that smells?”

Tan Tan laughed, “Dad was right. Uncle Zhang went to the back mountain early in the morning to help. He gathered all the broken branches and leaves.”

“Then he piled them up at the edge of the orchard and asked me to take them to meet King up on the back mountain—he’s going to start collecting manure from the pigsty and chicken coop to compost.”

Speaking of this, Tan Tan felt that the two thousand yuan salary was worth every penny.

Although Zhang Wang had a slight limp, he was fast and strong. He didn’t say much, but he had a modern way of thinking.

That morning, Tan Tan had personally seen him mix pig manure, chicken and duck droppings, and broken grass and mud together, then stack them in piles according to some secret recipe. He had even taken out a bag of fermentation bacteria from a basket and sprinkled it on top…

Tan Tan was genuinely surprised.

She acknowledged that villagers knew how to use chemical fertilizers and pesticides, but when it came to using fermentation bacteria—which consist of various beneficial bacteria with a wide range of strains—she was certain no one in their village had ever heard of it.