Chapter 122: The Chicks Have Hatched

As dusk approached, many people began to leave; whether they were here for leisure or for a meal, the crowd gradually thinned. Tomorrow was Monday, and everyone had to return home early, gather themselves, and prepare for the new week of work ahead.

Though most visitors to the farm were from affluent families, there were quite a few from the middle class as well. These people, despite their high salaries, still had to work hard.

“Zhong Di, come here and look at this! Who wrote this? Seems like someone’s thinking about you.” Zhong Hui was reviewing the day’s feedback when she suddenly found a sticky note. Its content was about Zhong Di, and upon reading it, she couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise.

Curious about what could have startled his sister so, Zhong Di came over. What could possibly warrant such a reaction?

“Zhong Di, do you have someone you like? If not, would you consider me?”

In a flash, Zhong Di tore the note away. What was written here? It was so childishly direct, reminiscent of a middle school confession. Even Zhong Di, with his robust heart, couldn’t handle such content.

“Come on, let’s go home. You’ve already worked overtime for two hours today. Xiao Xi is waiting at home for you to cook dinner. Don’t forget to include your overtime pay.” As they wrapped up, Zhong Di reminded his sister to account for the extra hours.

As soon as closing time arrived, he would send their parents off—urging them to enjoy themselves, perhaps join the crowd dancing in the square. His mother could learn from the others, and as for his father, there were always chess games to watch or join, while keeping an eye on his wife dancing.

“Zhong Di, that’s all in the past. The other party apologized first; you don’t need to dwell on it. Find someone if you want to. Mom and Dad are waiting for grandchildren,” Zhong Hui muttered as she left.

She had heard about her brother’s situation from their parents. She knew what kind of person Zhong Di was, and it was easy to see what had happened. His girlfriend, whom he’d once brought home, had revealed some incompatibilities even then—their values just didn’t match.

As his sister nagged, Zhong Di said nothing, only watching her leave. Zack left as well, and soon it was just Zhong Di and Shao Hong.

“So, they want you to find a girlfriend? Not just your sister, your parents have mentioned it to me a few times too.” Seeing Zhong Di’s frown, Shao Hong knew exactly what was bothering him.

“We’re still young; what’s the rush, right? Come on, let’s go check the fish pond and see how things are.”

Zhong Di didn’t want to discuss the topic and quickly changed the subject. With daylight still lingering, it was a good time to inspect the pond.

“I remember seeing a few small fish floating up the other day—got eaten by the ducks.”

“Some species just aren’t suited for this place,” Zhong Di muttered.

At first, he’d thought that feeding free-range chickens and wild desert sprouts might lead to some sort of miracle, but reality proved otherwise. Regional incompatibility was irreversible.

The two used a dip net to check the pond; many shelled creatures lay at the bottom, hard to inspect without a net.

They worked until deep into the night before heading back. All in all, the situation wasn’t as ideal as they’d hoped, but neither was it disastrous. Quite a few species had adapted and seemed to be thriving.

They estimated that about one or two out of ten species hadn’t adapted. Over time, more might fail, and after a winter, they’d see which ones survived.

They fished out some listless crabs and other shellfish to eat that evening. There was no point in keeping the unviable ones.

Early the next morning, Shao Hong woke Zhong Di.

Checking the time, he realized he still had over half an hour before his usual wake-up. Zhong Di decided that if Shao Hong wasn’t offering a good reason…

“The chicks the hen was brooding have hatched. Come and see!” Shao Hong’s voice brimmed with joy.

He’d watched plenty of videos online about chicks hatching, but had never seen it in person. This morning, while collecting eggs, he’d suddenly heard a chorus of chirping—the chicks had hatched before his eyes.

“It’s just chicks hatching, right?” Zhong Di was groggy, but the moment he registered the news, his mind stirred with excitement.

Witnessing the birth of new life firsthand was exhilarating. It was a primal response—regardless of the species, watching any newborn brings inexplicable joy, a testament to the cyclical nature of the world.

Old lives pass, new ones are born.

Zhong Di quickly dressed and, without even washing his face, ran straight to the chicken coop.

It had been about twenty days since the hen began brooding. He couldn’t recall the exact day—he wasn’t keeping a diary—but by his reckoning, this was about right.

He didn’t approach too close, only watching from a distance. Mother hens are fiercely protective; anyone nearing the chicks would be attacked.

A few chicks had already emerged, while others were pecking their way out of the shell. The newly hatched chicks were lively, immediately exploring their surroundings.

Chirp, chirp!

No sooner had the chicks emerged than another hen tried to attack them. The brooding hen instantly puffed up, stood to full height, and aggressively defended her brood.

Her maternal instinct was overwhelming.

After watching for a while, Zhong Di and Shao Hong left. Zhong Di set about cleaning, while Shao Hong attended to miscellaneous chores.

Seeing the chicks hatch first thing in the morning lifted Zhong Di’s spirits for the entire day.

Washing his face, brushing his teeth, eating breakfast—these actions were so ingrained that he didn’t need to think at all. It was the result of habitual practice.

Today, some materials would arrive. The plans were confirmed, and they could start work. There was only one greenhouse space in the north; the rest would require uprooting the jujube trees.

Start with one, wait for the fruit to half-ripen, then harvest and remove the trees. That would clear the way for the next greenhouse.

Typically, jujubes mature between mid-September and the end of the month. Lately, these jujubes had begun to slow their growth.

Bite into one, and it was already sweet.

Jujube itself has a very short growing season. The long production cycle is due to its unique traits: late sprouting, delayed fruiting after the hanging stems emerge, and the need for the grey jujube variety to dry naturally on the tree. That makes the whole process seem lengthy.

But the time from fruit set to turning red is actually quite short.

Once the jujubes are half-ripe, they can be sold. With their unique flavor, there’s no need to worry about sales—fresh jujubes always sell out.

Then, uproot the trees, plan, and continue building greenhouses.

Constructing just one greenhouse provides a chance to gain experience, identify any shortcomings, and make adjustments.

With his mind full of scattered thoughts, Zhong Di began his work—pulling weeds, feeding rabbits, playing with pigeons.

And so the day began.