Chapter 14: Sowing Chinese Millettum

Chapter 14: Sowing Chinese Millettia

The roar of machinery filled the fields as villagers chatted while they worked. On the field ridges, piles of wild grass and shrubs grew higher, and the brown soil, unplowed for a long time, exposed its moist scent under the brilliant morning sun.

The mountain village showed signs of a long-awaited bustle.

Wang Lifen opened the storage room in the corner of the courtyard, which had not been opened for a long time; it was an earthen house built decades ago.

That year, she had just given birth to her daughter. Song Youde, along with his brothers, had mixed yellow mud, cut straw, and molded them into bricks to slowly build the house.

In the beginning, this was their main residence.

Later, as the children grew, a brick-and-tile house was built, and this room became a place to store grain and hay... Once they stopped farming, it became a storage room for miscellaneous items.

Qiaoqiao came running over: "Grandma! Grandma!"

Wang Lifen had just pulled out a few carrying poles from inside and responded upon hearing him: "Qiaoqiao!"

A moment later, Qiaoqiao’s neatly trimmed buzz cut poked in: "Grandma, Sister said she’s taking me to the fields to farm later, and she wants to borrow a small basket."

He was quickly distracted by the stacked carrying poles on the ground: "Grandma, what are these?"

Wang Lifen smiled and handed him a small basket. After a thought, she pulled a piece of plastic rope, folded it several times, and tied it around his waist: "Our Qiaoqiao knows how to farm now!"

Song Qiao puffed out his chest with pride.

But he persisted in questioning: "Grandma, one, two, three... seven, eight, eight of them... what are these for?"

"These? These are for the hens to hatch chicks."

Qiaoqiao's eyes lit up: "I want to hatch them too!"

Wang Lifen:...This was exactly why she hadn't wanted to answer him immediately. The child's questions came one after another; there were too many.

Fortunately, young children love playing with older children. When Song Qiao was three, Song Tan was eight; now Song Qiao was eighteen... yet he still felt like he was three.

He should play with older children.

Sensing his thoughts, Wang Lifen asked

"So, are you going to farm with your sister, or are you coming back to hatch chicks with Grandma?"

For Song Qiao, this question was truly a bit too difficult.

After agonizing for a long while, he finally looked toward the direction of the house from afar: "I'm going to farm with Sister."

As he left, he said reluctantly: "Grandma, please negotiate with the hens. Don't hatch them too fast. Wait until I come back to do it together..."

Once the little pest finally drifted away, Wang Lifen pulled out four baskets and placed them in the warehouse, lining the bottom with a thick layer of dry hay. She then counted about twenty to thirty eggs into each basket. Immediately after, she went to the chicken coop and caught all four hens—

These local country chickens were thin with long legs, and their pecks were quite painful; it wasn't easy to catch them normally.

Unlike modern broiler chickens, which are plump and lazy—only needing a couple of steps to be caught—local chickens were different. While broilers were efficient for meat, they couldn't compare to local chickens in terms of egg quality or taste.

To catch them, Wang Lifen had intentionally left the coop door closed early in the morning, so they had been clucking away inside all morning.

The four hens were placed one by one into the large-holed carrying baskets, with another basket inverted on top and secured tightly. If maintained for a few days, the hens would begin preparing to hatch the chicks.

After waiting twenty to thirty days, the chicks should break through their shells.

It would happen to be late March, when the weather is warm and everything is growing, making it a good time for chicks to thrive.

...

After two days of tidying up, the oak trees on the back mountain had been cleared enough, and of the seven fields, only the two outermost ones remained today.

Seeing that the weather was suitable, Song Tan pulled Song Qiao, intending to sow the Chinese Millettia seeds.

Wulan was still a bit hesitant: "It's still very cold in the early mornings and evenings..."

The temperature difference was too large, which could easily freeze the tender sprouts; she thought they should wait at least another half month.

Song Tan thought to herself: *I know. But I didn't pay attention when I first triggered the spiritual energy a couple of days ago, and these seeds almost sprouted immediately.*

Sigh, it was her lack of experience in planting in this world; she had no idea how precious spiritual energy was to the plants here.

If she waited two more days, she would either exhaust the seeds' vitality prematurely or watch them sprout right there in the pile.

Thus, she could only act willfully: "Mom, this Chinese Millettia isn't rice; it's not that delicate. It will definitely survive."

She then called out: "Qiaoqiao, is the seed ready? Once it's ready, we're heading to the fields."

Song Qiao didn't care about seasons or sprouting times. The basket around his waist was filled with Chinese Millettia seeds mixed with sand, weighing nearly ten pounds.

The seeds were flat and small; even with the sand mixed in, ten pounds was almost enough for two acres. To Song Qiao, it felt more like playing.

He looked jubilant and full of anticipation

"Sister, I'm doing the farming today!"

"Good boy, Qiaoqiao. I knew you could do it!"

The siblings headed out like two carefree fools.

Wulan:...

...

Standing at the edge of the field, the earthy scent of the soil hit them. The overturned clumps of earth revealed weeds with white roots already sprouting inside.

Song Tan had been eating home-cooked meals for several days. Although it was much better than in the city and Wulan's cooking was impeccable, as her Qi Refining stage progressed, her mouth became increasingly intolerant of impurities...

Everything eaten daily, after a night of cultivation, had to be followed by going to a smelly toilet the next day...

Sigh.

In short, there was absolutely no connection between being a cultivator and "consuming the wind and dew to achieve a pure, glass-like body."

Thinking of this, Song Tan grew urgent.

The two large bags of seeds in her hands were equally impatient to sprout; she could feel their leaping vitality through the bags.

Without further hesitation, Song Tan grabbed a handful and flung it. The seeds, damp from soaking, fluttered down silently onto the soil, quickly blending into the brown earth until they were nearly invisible to the naked eye.

Unnoticed by anyone on the surface, a vigorous vitality erupted. The overlooked seeds began to crack open tiny fissures from the inside out.

They only needed a nourishing morning dew and appropriate sunlight; without the need for covering them with soil, they could grow wildly and vigorously.

This bursting life brought a sense of profound peace. Song Tan looked down at them and decided that once all the sowing was finished, she would take advantage of the daytime warmth to quietly draw more moisture to press them into the soil.

In a month, vast stretches of purple flowers would bloom here.

Her first step toward recovering her costs would begin with these Chinese Millettia.

Driven by this determination to break even, it didn't take Song Tan long to finish sowing this field. Just as she was preparing to move to the next, she saw Qiaoqiao still squatting on the field ridge, carefully examining the seeds.

"Qiaoqiao, what are you doing?"

Qiaoqiao replied with a solemn expression: "Sister, planting them like that won't work. You have to dig a hole, put two seeds in, and then cover them with soil."

Song Tan froze, then realized—wasn't that the method for planting corn?

It turned out Qiaoqiao only knew how to plant corn!

Come on, let's farm together!

(End of Chapter)