Free Web NovelChapter 2160: Chapter 1840: The Path from Master’s to Doctorate
How could the three of Yan Ran not be excited?
Whether they can sail straight through master’s and PhD and sing all the way depends on this!
The three of them all came from ordinary families, and it was sheer dumb luck that they happened to pick their advisor when Professor Song came back to teach a few classes.
Once they chose him, it was no small thing—so many people at school were sniping and sour about it.
As for Professor Song—he’d gone around the experimental fields a few times, and every time he saw these three huffing and puffing away at work.
Since you have to choose, out of thousands of troops and horses you’re of course going to pick the ones you like the look of.
(Mainly, with his status, the grad student slots he opened up scared off a lot of students who didn’t even dare sign up—only these three blockheads did.)
Anyway, point is, aren’t they hardworking, tough, and obedient!
At his age now, he’s best suited to students whose stamina bars are full.
With silly students, a teacher always feels a bit protective. Take Qi Lin, the one who’s worst off financially—if he hadn’t deliberately helped him along, there’s no way the kid could’ve gone straight into a lab after graduation and be drawing several thousand a month.
Yes, compared with cheap undergrads, that salary he’s getting is indeed pretty high.
Later on, if there are new agricultural results—for example, if some pharmaceutical formulation needs the Agricultural Research Institute’s name on it—if the kid proves reliable, a few pointers from him and maybe the brat can even put down roots in one of those teams...
As for the other two who aren’t short of money, after two years of work experience in the countryside, they’ll also have more or less similar project teams waiting for them when they come back...
In short, as a master, you can’t help but dote on your honest, clumsy disciples.
Now, on the phone, the students were so worked up their faces were turning red, emphasizing over and over how promising this fifth-generation stolon was. Professor Song listened carefully, not brushing them off in the slightest:
"Alright, I’ll get ready to set off tomorrow."
...
People in agriculture have always been action-oriented. After a year, Professor Song once again stepped off the high-speed rail.
The station was the same old station, and the car was the same broken... no, this year the car was different.
Song Tan had come in Lun Chuan’s car to pick him up. Professor Song took one look and chuckled: "How come it’s still got a Beijing plate? Did our farming make us rich?"
"Not yet!"
Song Tan grinned as well: "I found myself a rich boyfriend. It’s his car."
She’d just been joking, but Professor Song tensed up at once: "Then how are you planning to arrange things for the farm from now on?"
He paused, then said, "Starting a family and a career has always been a big deal for both men and women. I won’t interfere too much in that. But in life, the rarest thing is actually having a gift, finding that gift, and using it."
"Tantan, you really are a natural at farming—science can’t even fully explain it. So no matter what happens, don’t let that go to waste."
As for this car...
His gaze swept lightly over the interior of the car. In that moment, he no longer looked like some dark-skinned, simple old farmer; instead, there was a natural authority about him:
"There’s nothing special about this car. Your talent and importance in agriculture are worth a thousand, a hundred thousand of these."
"Besides, can’t you earn money yourself? A capable girl, if she has money, she should spend it. Just set some aside for emergencies, don’t hoard it all."
Song Tan understood what he meant. It was usually Teacher Tang who said this kind of thing; she hadn’t expected Professor Song to be the same.
No wonder the two of them ended up together.
She immediately replied with a smile:
"I get it, don’t worry—how come I don’t see Teacher Tang with you?"
Professor Song also laughed:
"She’s been talking about it at home too! She’ll come over in a while."
If both of them came out together, it’d be too conspicuous, and then people here would have to arrange escorts and whatnot.
Professor Song preferred to wander around by himself first, in peace and quiet.
Song Tan started the car: "Your room and hers are still kept ready. Yesterday Aunt Lianhua specially went over to clean and air them out. It’s just that there was no sun, so the sheets and everything were dried in the washing machine."
She added, "Qiaoqiao now starts every other sentence with ’Teacher Tang said...’ ’Teacher Tang taught me...’ The kid’s really changed a lot, understands so many things now—practices calligraphy every day, draws, plays chess... Teacher Tang’s really gone all in."
Speaking of this, Professor Song was pleased too.
"Then you can relax. She’ll definitely come in a bit. She’s always talking about Qiaoqiao at home."
As if she could not talk.
Teacher Tang had lived such an exquisitely curated life, and as for her own children, well, let’s not even bring them up. Now it’s the granddaughter’s turn—these days, all the kids are taking those little classes for hosts and ’Golden Microphone’ training, right?
She signed her up too.
And boy, that kid’s got a pair of lungs on her! She came back speaking clearly and properly and immediately started issuing orders.
Everyone in the house had to listen to her command. If they didn’t, she wouldn’t get mad; she’d just keep repeating herself in that booming voice, over and over, tireless.
Teacher Tang had originally been all about writing and painting, arranging flowers, brewing tea, watching movies and reading... After a few days with her granddaughter at home, she hadn’t managed to post a single cultured, high-brow moment on her social media.
Fine!
She didn’t last long before she started planning a trip to escape the heat.
When Professor Song set off, she wasn’t even home, mulling over what her next destination should be.
As for helping look after the kid?
Every generation has its own mission; everyone has to raise their own children. She’d done her stint, now it was her son’s turn.
As for the fact that back then it had been her own mother who came to lend a hand, Teacher Tang decided that was something best left unmentioned.
Anyway, on the topic of raising kids, Professor Song and Song Tan could go back and forth for quite a while. After chatting for a bit, he looked at the drizzle outside and frowned:
"I see the soil in the flower beds by the road is already waterlogged. How long has it been raining? Are the corn plants on the slopes up the mountain still alright?"
The reason he didn’t ask about the equally tall sugarcane and sorghum was because sugarcane only fears rain in the seedling stage; once it’s in its growth phase, it actually loves rain, and more rain can even reduce the chance of it turning into those "silver ringed snakes."
Sorghum, on the other hand, is much more flood-tolerant; it can survive in low-lying waterlogged land for ten days or so.
By comparison, top-heavy, shallow-rooted corn is what you really need to watch.
Song Tan sighed helplessly: "We basically harvested it all and turned it into silage. There’s only about an acre left in a slightly higher, gentler spot—if it does well, we can still pick a couple of ears to taste."
Since ancient times, the weather’s been unpredictable. Even as the most professional of agronomists, Professor Song couldn’t do anything about that:
"Next time you plant, you still have to factor in both drought and heavy rain, and plan your planting zones a bit better."
Song Tan said, "It’s not that the planning’s bad, it’s just that my family wants to plant this and that—any plot of land we can make use of, we’ve used."
Yan Ran and the other two really had done their best.
"But the corn wasn’t planted for nothing. Silage is very nutritious. This year the pigs, cattle, and sheep will all get to eat their fill again."
Well, there’s that.
Professor Song nodded and was about to ask about the fruit trees on the mountain—without enough sunlight, you can’t get perfect-looking fruit.
As for strawberries?
The students had already said everything there was to say. The rest he’d judge after seeing them in person.
Then he heard Song Tan ask:
"Professor Song, we’re stewing beef ribs today—want some?"
