gnovel Chapter 22 Keeping Pets
Chapter 22 Keeping Pets
Cheng Chumo sat down on the stone bench and recounted his day at the farm from beginning to end.
When the topic of feeding chickens with earthworms came up, his father raised an eyebrow; when the topic of the six branches of Champa rice came up, his father's eyebrows shot up.
Cheng Yaojin placed the lamb leg bone on the table, wiped his greasy hands with a cloth, and asked, "Did you see the rice with your own eyes?"
"I saw it with my own eyes. It wasn't just one or two plants, it was the whole field. My son squatted on the edge of the field and watched for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, and every single one of them looked the same."
The wind blew, and the rice paddies rolled all the way to the foot of the mountain, so dense that the ground was completely obscured.
Cheng Yaojin remained silent for a moment. "If you double the yield from one mu, how many mu of paddy fields are there in Guanzhong?" "Two million mu."
Even if we expand this first around Chang'an, that's 200,000 mu (approximately 13,333 hectares). At a yield of more than one shi (approximately 0.5 tons) per mu, that's 200,000 shi. What does 200,000 shi mean? It's enough to feed the border troops for half a year.
But he didn't say any of that. He asked about something else.
"How did the chat with that kid go?"
"No pretension. No fawning. That's it."
Cheng Chumo thought carefully about his words, "It's just that a person should be what they are."
Not the pretentious kind, but more like a farmer in the fields—oh, no, more like a cultured farmer in the fields.
As I was leaving, I thanked him, and he said he'd come back again if he happened to be passing by, and that water was always available. It didn't sound like just polite talk; he didn't seem bothered by my decision to end our friendship.
"You didn't mention our family?"
"He didn't mention it. He asked me what my name was and also asked about Chu Liang. He didn't ask anything else."
I told him my name and Chu Liang's name. He probably didn't know who we were, since Chu Liang and I aren't any big shots.
Cheng Yaojin picked up the wine bowl, took a sip, and put the bowl down on the table with a "thud".
"That's right. You became friends with him, and he told you everything, how rice is grown, how earthworms are raised, even without revealing his identity."
This shows that this person isn't the type to discriminate based on social status. Continue to interact with them, and let Chu Liang go too.
Cheng Chumo responded with a soft "yes". He stood up and walked out. When he reached the courtyard entrance, his father added another sentence from behind.
"By the way, next time you visit, bring some snacks from our house. Don't arrive empty-handed; that's not proper etiquette for guests."
Cheng Chumo turned around and glanced at his father.
Cheng Yaojin had already picked up the lamb leg again and was gnawing on it. His expression remained unchanged; he squinted, and a smile that made it hard to tell whether he was genuinely simple-minded or just pretending was playing dumb.
Cheng Chumo understood what his father meant.
Those troublemakers, those brats who love to fight and hang out in military camps, aren't meant to learn farming.
It's to let them take a look. A young man about their age, relying not on family connections or ancestral influence, but on his own two hands and a plot of land, has managed to get His Majesty and Empress to condescend to visit him.
This isn't about lecturing; it's about letting them see, think, and feel for themselves.
…………
The spring of the ninth year of Zhenguan was visibly fading.
Wang Zhi was squatting on the threshold of the kitchen, holding a bowl of noodle soup in his hand.
The dough was made from leftover dough from yesterday, and it was cut into uneven widths, but it turned out quite chewy after cooking.
An egg was poached in the soup, and some newly sprouted bok choy was sprinkled in.
He ate slowly, bite by bite, until the soup was cold by the time he reached the bottom of the bowl.
The courtyard was quiet.
Sparrows chirped occasionally in the jujube tree, and the yellow-feathered chickens in the coop clucked in response. In the distance, the shouts of tenant farmers herding cattle echoed from the field ridges.
These scattered sounds only made the courtyard seem even emptier.
Eating alone always feels bland.
He put down his bowl and leaned against the doorframe, lost in thought for a while.
Ever since I transmigrated here, life has always been busy – dealing with things in the fields, with tenants, and all sorts of miscellaneous tasks in the village.
Sizi and her sister came over every few days recently, making the courtyard lively a few times.
But once the person left, the silence became exceptionally heavy, so heavy that you could hear your own breathing.
No, this can't go on. Humans are social creatures, after all; we need to raise something.
Once the thought arose, it could no longer be suppressed. Not a chicken—chickens lay eggs, they can't be considered companions.
The most suitable animals are cats and dogs.
He remembered the big yellow dog from his grandfather's house in his past life.
When he went to work in the fields, the dog would lie down on the edge of the field and doze off; when he went home, the dog would wag its tail and follow behind him.
The year he was admitted to university, his grandfather called to say that the dog had died.
He stood on the dormitory balcony for a long time, not crying, but feeling a void in his heart.
There was also the orange cat that my mother picked up from the market. It was a tiny little thing, and its meow was as soft as a mosquito's buzz.
Later, it grew into a fat cat weighing over ten kilograms, and it would specifically choose to lie on his homework paper while he was doing it. If he pushed it, it would just change its position and continue lying there.
Unfortunately, all of this has become a silhouette, and we can't go back, but we can't forget it.
Okay. Let's get a cat or a dog. They should both be just over a month old, strong and healthy, easy to raise, and won't require much meticulous care.
He collected the bowls, rinsed them with water, wiped his hands, and went out the door.
Old Zhang was repairing a hoe handle in his yard, wrapping it with hemp rope. Seeing him arrive, he quickly stood up: "Master, is there something you need?"
"Old Zhang, does anyone around here have a puppy or kitten that's just over a month old and looks healthy? They need to be easy to care for and not fussy."
"You want to keep this?" Old Zhang was taken aback, then turned around and shouted into the house, "Dog Egg! Go ask your third uncle's house, his big yellow dog had a litter of puppies last month, just a month old, all very healthy, one is a yellow dog with white skin, and another is pure black, all of excellent quality!"
Dog Egg ran out at the sound of the voice, his face still covered in rice grains, and disappeared in a flash.
Old Zhang thought for a moment and said, "As for cats, Widow Liu's house at the east end of the village has one."
Her cat is a tabby. She had two kittens in the spring, just a month old. They walk steadily, can drink rice porridge on their own, and aren't spoiled at all. She was worried about not being able to find them a home.
"Let's go take a look."
Widow Liu's house wasn't far; it was just a short walk away. The courtyard was small, and the earthen walls had a few cracks, but it was kept clean.
A woman in her thirties was sitting in the courtyard twisting hemp rope. When she saw him come in, she stood up hurriedly, rubbing her hands on her clothes.
"Master Wang, what brings you here?"
"I heard you have a kitten that's just a month old. Come and take a look."
Widow Liu led him to a corner of the main room.
Old clothes were laid out in a bamboo basket, and a large tabby cat lay inside, with two fluffy kittens curled up beside it.
They all have genuine tabby cat markings, with alternating shades of brown and yellow fur, round faces, and chubby paws. They are just over a month old, with most of their blue membranes having faded. Their legs are steady, and they walk without wobbling or stumbling. They look like they would be easy to raise.
One was lively and bold, peeking out curiously; the other was quiet and reserved, huddled obediently to the side, exuding a gentle demeanor.
Wang Zhihuan squatted down and extended one finger.
The bold little tabby immediately came over, squinted its eyes, and gently rubbed against his fingertips, making soft purring sounds in its throat, clingy and obedient.
"I'll take both of them."
"You want two?" Widow Liu was a little surprised. "These two are tabby cats. They are hardy and rarely get sick. They can eat on their own after a month. They are the easiest to raise. The only drawback is that they can't be found after they grow up."