Chapter 54: 54 A Dish

Chapter 54: A Dish of Greens

On the internet, pastoral life is poetic and romantic.

In reality, pastoral life is a spinning top, whirling incessantly.

When 71-year-old Song Youde woke up, it was only just past five o'clock.

As the sky was just beginning to dawn, he had already, out of habit, put on his old-fashioned army green shoes, grabbed a large basket, and headed straight for the distant fields.

The early morning Chinese milk vetch grew exceptionally lush and vibrant, its deep green leaves adorned with glistening droplets of dew. A thin mist drifted through the low-lying fields; even in the dim light of early morning, it remained a romantic sight.

However, having seen this view his entire life, the old farmer Song Youde had no intention of admiring it. Instead, he bent down and began picking large handfuls of the vetch with swift, precise movements.

Handful after handful of vetch was placed into the basket. Just as it was about to overflow, his aged hands pressed down firmly to pack it in.

Only when the basket became heavy did he straighten his back with satisfaction, slung the basket over his arm, and began his slow walk home.

It was barely six o'clock.

Wisps of cooking smoke were already curling up from the house.

Wang Lifen was getting older, and her back was slightly hunched, but this did not affect her brisk movements.

At this moment, she was already seated before the two large stoves, having lit the fires. A large pot of pig feed was simmering in the stove.

Pumpkin, sweet potato, corn, rice bran, and wheat bran were all boiling together inside, sending a sweet aroma wafting through the air.

This feed was intended for the five piglets up on the mountain.

Originally, these chores were not meant for the old couple, but their son and daughter-in-law were busy from dawn to dusk every day. Thinking that they were old, slept little, and often woke up early anyway, the couple figured that cooking pig feed didn't take much effort.

And so, they had taken over the task.

Song Youde walked over, picked up a large spatula, and stirred the mixture for a while. Seeing that it was nearly cooked, he tossed a large handful of the Chinese milk vetch directly into the pot. As soon as it hit the heat, a fresh, fragrant scent filled the air.

The piglets were still small, and since the mornings were chilly, Song Youde didn't dare feed them plants covered in dew.

Wang Lifen pulled back the fire from the stove and couldn't help but sniff the air

"Our Tantan really should come home to farm. Look at how the heavens are rewarding her!"

"As soon as she comes back, everything in these fields tastes delicious."

"During the New Year, I felt like nothing had flavor; I couldn't find the appetite for anything. Now, I don't know if it's because I'm working too hard or because the food is too good, but my appetite is great every day. I'm hungry the moment it's time to eat!"

The old woman sighed and laughed, "It's truly a life of poverty—even when there's no work to do, we can't even enjoy ourselves."

Song Youde nodded. "I feel the same. I used to cough a lot when the weather turned cold, but I've felt much better lately."

Wang Lifen's smiling face suddenly turned serious

"If you throw away that tobacco pipe around your waist, I guarantee your lungs will feel even better."

Song Youde: "..."

What is the point of living a life, right?

There were some hobbies he simply couldn't give up.

Clinging to such a stubborn and irresponsible thought, the old man pretended he hadn't heard her.

He used a gourd ladle to scoop the cooked pig feed into a bucket nearby. While waiting for the feed to cool, he took out the remaining vetch from the basket, squatted by the vegetable chopping board in the courtyard, and began chopping with a rhythmic *thud-thud-thud*.

By the time the vetch had been chopped into tiny, fine pieces and mixed with crushed corn and a bit of millet, Song Sancheng arrived.

He carried a shoulder pole with a large pig feed bucket hanging from each side, and then placed the chopped wild greens on top.

He also instructed, "Dad, find some time this morning to walk up the back mountain and see if the chicken and duck coops are missing anything."

"Tantan bought about a hundred ducklings yesterday. After they've been penned up at home for a few days, they should be ready to be released onto the mountain."

Wang Lifen remembered as well. "We have ducks now? That's perfect. My chicks have hatched too; they look quite sturdy after being raised for a few days. There are about seventy or eighty of them. I'll have your father bring them over to you later."

Song Sancheng was not being polite at all. He hoisted the pole onto his shoulders and then instructed the old woman, "Mom, go home and make breakfast in a bit. Someone from Tantan's side wants a hundred pounds of Chinese milk vetch. The three of them went into the fields early this morning, so they probably won't have time to make breakfast."

A hundred pounds!

Wang Lifen couldn't help but click her tongue. "Times have changed; there are more wealthy people now, and they are willing to spend on food."

But thinking about the taste of this vetch—just looking at those pigs grunting on the mountain every day, fighting for food as if they hadn't eaten in eight hundred years, one knew exactly how delicious it was!

However, the old woman was not content to just stay stuck by the stove; she acted quite dignified

"Then we'll just have a quick bite this morning. I'll boil some dumplings and make a vegetable pancake with this extra vetch. Then I have to hurry up; I need to go up the mountain to pick tea!"

The tea leaves were growing so thick, completely different from before!

The four people hired yesterday had each picked over five pounds.

Only because she was old, with failing eyesight and slow hands, had she picked less than four pounds, which left her feeling secretly frustrated when she returned.

It was a hundred yuan a day!

The old lady was treating this as a serious career.

Song Sancheng felt helpless

"Mom, look at you. You don't have to exhaust yourself with the chores at your own house. Tantan already said she would pay you both a salary, but you both refuse..."

Song Youde snorted, "It's just farm work, why would we need a salary? Is the stuff you grow something I can't eat or something?"

The older they got, the more childish they became; sometimes, if a single word was said incorrectly, the old couple would get angry.

Song Sancheng simply stopped talking. He hoisted the pole and began his swaying walk toward the back mountain.

Ah, they certainly hadn't been eating for nothing lately!

Because of his age, carrying a pole used to feel taxing on his waist. Now, however, he felt as light as a breeze under his feet, just like a young man!

The path into the back mountain had been leveled slightly by them during this period, making it steady to walk on.

The piglets seemed to hear him from afar, their squealing in the pens growing louder and more piercing, as if someone watching wouldn't think they were being tortured.

Song Sancheng remembered that in the past, even when it was feeding time, although the pigs would squeal, it was nothing like the noise they made now.

This was also why they always had to let the pig feed cool to the right temperature at home before bringing it up the mountain.

It was because this group of pigs ate as if their lives depended on it, completely indifferent to whether the food was hot or cold.

He poured the thick pig feed into the trough, watching the five piglets scramble and grunt as they ate. A look of infatuation naturally crossed Song Sancheng's face.

He watched them for a while, then wandered over to the chicken and duck coops that had already been covered. Seeing nothing else that needed to be done, he decided to let the old man take a look later.

Once the chickens and ducks grew a bit larger, they could be driven up the mountain at any time.

However, before that, it wasn't enough to just fence off the mountain with netting; he would also need to find two dogs to watch over it.

Relying solely on Dabai and the three new little local dogs...

Goodness, they wouldn't even be enough for a single dish!

Just as he was pondering this, he heard someone shouting from the bottom of the mountain: "Sancheng! Are you home?"