Chapter 442: Chapter 232: Qingmu Withdraws from School
Hearing what his son and daughter said, Zheng Changhe finally put his mind at ease. He was happy—with his son not having to go to the schoolhouse every day, their family finances would naturally be less strained.
So, the family discussed the summer harvest for a while longer, only going to rest when their eyes were heavy with sleep.
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The Fang family’s farm tool workshop was a bustling affair. They recruited all the blacksmiths and carpenters in Xiatang Market, and not only did they manufacture rice threshers, but they also produced other farm tools.
Manager Song figured that in a place like Xiatang Market, rice threshers were unlikely to sell in large numbers. It would be better to transport them to Linhuzhou and Qinghui to sell to the major, wealthy households. Common farm tools, on the other hand, had a huge market, so he decided to add them to their production line.
Since the Fang family had entered this trade, it was naturally better for them to be comprehensive. Otherwise, it would be a joke to call themselves a farm tool workshop if they didn’t even make hoes and rakes!
As for materials, while the iron had to be shipped in from elsewhere, the wood was naturally procured locally.
However, Qingmu and Zhang Huai told Li Gengtian that the trees on the mountain shouldn’t be sold. The oak trees were out of the question—unless they were dead, they had to be kept for their acorns, and even dead oaks could be used to grow wood ear fungus. Other trees, like willows and locusts, could also be used for growing the fungus, so they couldn’t be sold either. The village really ought to keep some of the other trees on the mountain, as they would surely have a use for them later. If they sold them all, would they really have to buy wood back when they needed it?
Li Gengtian listened and felt it was reasonable. They couldn’t burn their bridges for such a small amount of money; after all, it takes many years for a tree to mature into usable timber. The village was going to build its own workshop in the autumn anyway, so there was absolutely no need to get greedy over this little bit of money and do something foolish.
And so, among all the surrounding villages, only Qingnan Village sold not a single tree. Manager Song repeatedly expressed his surprise.
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The rice paddies, now past their heading stage, transformed with each passing day. They went from green to yellow, and the stalks gradually bent and drooped, their heavy heads swaying in the wind. Soon, it would be time for them to fully ripen.
And so, the farmers grew tense, almost as if "sharpening their blades for the rice paddies."
Juhua’s family had about ten mu of rice paddies, so naturally, they were even more tense. Every day, Qingmu and her parents went to the fields before dawn, frantically cutting the rice. After the sun came out and dried the stalks for a morning, they would use the rice thresher to separate the grain.
Juhua was nervous, too. ’Last year,’ she thought, ’we only got the harvest in smoothly because the Zhang family, the Zhao family, and the Liu Family came to help. This year, even though they still have less land than the Zheng Family, they’re planning to grow a second rice crop. Right after this harvest, they’ll have to rush to transplant the late-season seedlings. I’m afraid they won’t have much time to help us out.’
’If it’s just harvesting, Mom, Dad, and Brother can definitely handle it. But after the harvest, they still have to plow, harrow, and transplant seedlings. How long is all that going to take?’
She decided she would go to the fields and help with the harvest. She had harvested rice in her previous life; every summer vacation, she would help her family with the "dual rush"—the frantic period of harvesting one crop while planting the next. She had never transplanted seedlings, though. That required a certain skill; it wasn’t something you could do just by trying. Since she was always studying, she never had the chance to learn.
But when she shared her idea, Qingmu frowned. "How much rice can you possibly cut? It’ll be even more trouble if you work yourself sick. Besides, doesn’t someone need to cook? Meals are critical right now. If we eat well, the work feels easier. If we don’t, we won’t have the stamina to get through it."
Juhua quickly explained, "I’d only help in the early morning. Breakfast is simple to cook. Then I’d harvest a little more in the morning and come back to make lunch just before noon. It won’t slow anything down. There’s more to do in the afternoon, so I’d stay home then."
Both Mrs. Yang and Zheng Changhe disagreed. Mrs. Yang shot her a sideways glance. "There’s plenty to do at home, and it’s not light work either," she said. "If you’re rushing from the fields to the house, you’ll end up working more than us. It’s not like we found you on the side of the road. Why would we put you through all that?"
Her words made the whole family laugh.
Qingmu said to Juhua in earnest, "Don’t you worry, I have it all figured out. We can’t neglect the pigs and chickens. They have to be well looked after. The income from a single pig is no less than what we get from a mu of rice."
It was breakfast time. Zheng Changhe stuffed a corn bun into his stomach in two or three bites, then nodded at Juhua. "Everything has its own priority," he said. "You just focus on taking care of the household—that’s not easy in itself—and don’t worry about the rest. Your mother, your brother, and I will handle it."
Juhua saw she wasn’t getting anywhere. ’People’s health is what’s most important,’ she thought. ’We can’t have anyone getting sick from exhaustion. Mom and Dad are getting older; I’m afraid this kind of hard labor is too much for them.’ She tried again, "Then should we spend money and hire some help? That would keep Mom and Dad from working themselves into the ground."
’Sigh. I guess it’s time to start inching my way into the landlord class!’
Qingmu shook his head. "The fields are dead, but people are alive," he said. "If we can’t get all the work done, are we supposed to kill ourselves trying? Think about it: for one mu of land, after you subtract the taxes and then deduct the cost of hiring help, how much is left? In the past, we had little land and our family was poor; we had no choice. But now, if I had to choose, I’d rather plant a little less and spend my time raising an extra pig than wear ourselves out like this."
Zheng Changhe nodded. "That’s right. We’ll plant as much as we can manage. It’s not like anyone is forcing us to plant late-season rice on all ten-odd mu of our land. We can just plant a few mu less."
Mrs. Yang chimed in, "The most important thing is to bring in the harvest. For the late-season rice, we’ll plant what we can. We absolutely cannot work ourselves to death over it."
Qingmu then said to Juhua, "This is our first year trying to see if growing two crops works out. After we get through this busy season, we’ll have a better idea, and by next year, we’ll know how many mu is a suitable amount to plant. Don’t you worry. Huai Zi and Third Uncle Zhao will surely finish their own work first, and they’ll come and help us then."
Juhua could only give up. ’We can’t buy any more land,’ she thought to herself. ’Mom and Dad aren’t willing to spend money to hire people, so isn’t buying more land just asking for trouble? I’ll have to persuade them slowly in the future.’
So, Juhua stuck to her role in logistics. There was indeed a great deal to do at home: laundry, cooking, feeding the pigs, and drying the grain. She was so busy her feet barely touched the ground. Sometimes she moved in such a hurry that she would trip over her own feet. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to come to Qidian.com to vote for recommendations and monthly passes. Your support is my greatest motivation.)