Chapter 12: Chatting in the Village

Chapter 12: Chatting in the Village

In late February and early March, farmers enjoy a rare period of leisure in their year-round cycle.

The New Year celebrations have passed, and the children have flown away with their families. The swallows have not yet returned to the rafters, and more and more land lies fallow, with shades of withered yellow and dusty brown dominating large stretches of the earth.

Aside from the distant green mountains, which still hold vast expanses of verdant color, the entire village is enveloped in a sense of lonely, silent stillness.

But today, in the fields by the Song family's bamboo grove, things were bustling and lively.

"Song Sancheng, what's going on with your family this year? Did you strike it rich and plan to go big? Why are you clearing so many fields?"

"Yeah, Old Song, what are you planning to plant? There were two tea bushes in this field before—are you getting rid of them too?"

Everyone had been invited by Song Sancheng to help clear the fields.

In a corner, a rotary tiller was working with a rhythmic rumble. Before the tilling could begin, they first had to clear out the weeds and shrubs from the land. Otherwise, that little machine would likely get stuck.

Fortunately, with many hands, working together was not only fun but quite efficient. As one section was cleared in the front, the tiller would follow behind, turning the soil twice—the timing was just right.

Those who came were roughly the same age as Song Sancheng.

At their age, most factories wouldn't hire them for migrant work. While manual labor jobs might have more relaxed age requirements, employers were often afraid of accidents occurring.

Furthermore, people in their forties and fifties had endured hardships in their youth, and many carried various physical ailments or chronic pains...

Staying in the village now meant working in bursts and then resting, striving to avoid becoming a burden to their children.

Therefore, when Song Sancheng mentioned hiring people to work, even though it was a hundred and fifty yuan a day for back-breaking labor that wasn't exactly "good work," everyone was willing to come.

As they grew older, they also craved the social warmth of a crowd.

Song Sancheng sighed, "This tea isn't worth much, and there's still a huge patch up on the hillside. I haven't tended to this part for years... what's the point of keeping it?"

That was true.

This area wasn't a famous tea-growing region; it was just ordinary tea from a mountain valley. Once roasted, it could be sold, but at fifty yuan a jin, it was only good for personal enjoyment; very few people outside were willing to pay for it.

The tea trees in these fields were purely a result of him not being able to stand the sight of bare, empty land back then...

But he was getting old!

The heavy farm work required real brute strength, which he could no longer manage, so he had slowly resigned himself to fate.

"So, what's your plan, clearing both the fields and the hillside?"

The questioner was his neighbor, Li Baoni.

Speaking of this, Song Sancheng didn't quite know how to start.

How should he put it?

That his daughter had quit her job and planned to come back to farm?

How many young people these days actually knew how to farm? If he said that, the villagers would laugh him out of the village!

So, he played it down: "It's nothing much. My Tantan's job is too exhausting; her body can't take it anymore. I just told her that the family needs an extra hand with the farming, so she should come home to recuperate for a year or so before heading back to work."

That made sense.

Which young person didn't go out into the world to make a name for themselves?

Li Baoni also sighed, "That's true. When my daughter came home for New Year, her face was deathly pale. When I asked, it turned out she was working overtime until one or two in the morning—and the salary is so meager that nothing is left at the end of the year."

Li Baoni's daughter worked in retail for a clothing chain. She was sweet-talking and capable, and was now a supervisor, but she frequently had to do late-night inventory or go on business trips to open new stores; it was hard work.

To make matters worse, the economic environment had been poor these past two years; her salary hadn't increased at all, and she constantly worried about layoffs...

When it came to children, every household had its own set of troubles.

From further away, Zhou Shunshui also sighed, "My son said last time that he wants us old folks to move to the city to live with them and help raise the grandkids—but the peppers at the supermarket by their door cost over ten yuan a jin! How can we afford to eat like that?"

"Raising a child means dropping them at kindergarten in the morning, picking them up in the evening, and then taking them to extracurricular classes—and none of them are in the same place. The buses make my head spin. And the house is blasting air conditioning all day; it's nowhere near as warm as our stove at home."

"I stayed for a week, but I couldn't stand it, so I just came back on my own."

As for his wife, she naturally couldn't bear to be away from her grandson and stayed there to take care of him with all her heart.

Regardless of whether the farming plan was reliable, the excuse Song Sancheng provided sounded plausible

"Tantan also said that the food these last few years hasn't tasted as good as it used to. So I figured, since she's staying anyway, we might as well plant some vegetables and rice for her to eat. It'll taste better if it's homegrown."

Hearing this, the villagers were amused.

"Song Sancheng, you're the one with the most farmland in the village now; you're practically a landlord! When your rice is ripe, I won't buy commercial rice—I'll buy yours."

"Right, right, I'll buy too! Commercial rice looks white, but that's just because it's polished; it has no nutrition. Not only is it several yuan a jin, but it's not as fragrant as the rice we grow ourselves."

Song Sancheng didn't dare agree: "I'm only planting two fields; it's barely enough to distribute among my own family. I'm not selling, not selling."

Who among them hadn't farmed before?

The crowd was dissatisfied upon hearing this: "Two fields add up to several mu! What, does your family eat thousands of jin of rice a year?"

Song Sancheng laughed, "Then what can I do? My rice seeds are good and the flavor is great, but they're expensive. The best yield is only a thousand jin per mu. A thousand jin produces seven hundred jin of rice, which is only enough to feed two or three people for a year."

"When the time comes, my old parents, the kids, the maternal grandparents, uncles, aunts, and elders... won't every household need a share?"

"With just this much, it's only enough for our own consumption."

Social etiquette in the village was like this; one always had to share a little with neighbors and relatives. It didn't have to be much, but it was a way to show affection.

The villagers did the math and realized it wouldn't be much, but there would certainly be a surplus: "No way! I must eat your rice this year, otherwise, I won't come to help when you're transplanting seedlings!"

Everyone chimed in in agreement.

By saying this, they were implying that if they helped with the transplanting, they wouldn't ask for money.

Song Sancheng didn't dare accept: "It's just these two fields; it won't even take us two days to transplant... Eat, eat, eat! If you really come to help during the harvest, I'll make sure you have plenty of rice!"

Everyone was laughing and joking. When one field was finished and they were preparing to move to the next location, someone finally remembered

"So, you're clearing ten or twenty mu of land, but you're only planting a few mu of rice. What are you planning to do with the rest?"

Song Sancheng didn't hide it: "Planting vegetables."

"I'm thinking of not using pesticides and taking a shuttle bus to the city to sell them. It shouldn't result in a loss."

That wouldn't earn much.

Without pesticides, weeds and insects would grow in layers; even a couple working together wouldn't be able to keep up, let alone the mental stress.

Furthermore, the roads here were difficult to travel. The village shuttle only ran once a day, and the round trip cost 40 yuan...

The vegetables would also require fertilizer and heavy labor. Most of the vendors at the market were also from rural areas near the city, meaning they were closer and the competition was fiercer...

In the end, it was all hard-earned money.

The villagers did a mental calculation; it simply wasn't worth it!

However, upon reflection: "That's actually fine. Old Song, you'll have Qiaoqiao to look after things. We're getting old and no one will hire us for work, so growing our own vegetables is quite good."

"When the time comes, I'll come to the field to pick and buy them fresh!"

...

...

Most crops in the village were single-variety, and since every household's harvest season overlapped, people often had to buy vegetables.

Additionally, in the countryside nowadays, selling a pig is fine, and slaughtering one for personal consumption is fine, but slaughtering a pig to sell is illegal and not allowed.

Tantan's next steps were to plant rice, watermelons, various vegetables, chestnuts on the mountain... she would also keep bees, because the nectar from Chinese milk vetch flowers is too good to miss! There would also be many wild vegetables.

She would also raise pigs, dogs, chickens, ducks, and geese, as well as fish, shrimp, water caltrops...

If there are any other crops you all like, please feel free to leave a comment!

(End of Chapter)