Chapter Fourteen: Rabbit Pens, Chicks, and Double-Yolked Eggs

After sending Boss Zhao off, Zhong Di felt a sense of contentment as he watched the flock of chicks running around the yard. Indeed, getting things done brought a certain comfort to his heart.

He grabbed whatever containers he could find, regardless of their original purpose—anything that could hold water was pressed into service. He placed them all around the homestead, where there was plenty of space for the chicks to move about.

The chicks, thirsty for a long time, hurried over to the containers and began to drink, chirping noisily. These were half-grown chickens, and unlike the delicate young chicks, they could be fed water without much care—it wasn’t necessary to worry about wetting their feathers.

Once they’d had their fill, Zhong Di opened a bag of feed and scattered it casually across the homestead. That way, the chicks would gradually learn that whenever they returned here, there would be food waiting for them.

The moment they spotted the feed, the chicks dashed over at top speed and swarmed around to eat. Zhong Di, on the other hand, sniffed the feed and frowned; the smell was harsh, almost acrid. Thinking of the hormones mixed in, he felt uneasy—could chickens raised on this stuff really be safe to eat?

After a brief consideration, he decided not to dwell on it any longer. After all, this was just a transitional phase; soon, he would switch entirely to green fodder.

With the new chicks settled, Zhong Di hauled down the diesel and wire mesh he’d purchased. He had no time to till the land today—he’d have to wait until tomorrow. Suddenly, he felt overwhelmed by the workload. If only someone could help him. But for now, that was just wishful thinking. Without any profit, how could he afford to hire assistance? He would simply have to endure a bit more hardship in these early days.

Once everything was put away, Zhong Di turned his attention to building a rabbit enclosure. He planned to set it up beside the chicken run, leaving three or four meters between them. To the right, there was just the right distance; the belt of trees had a gap in the middle, making it perfectly suitable.

First, he laid a layer of wire mesh on the ground and secured it. On top, he placed several small brick shelters, then surrounded the area with wire fencing—that would suffice. Rabbits, notorious for burrowing, couldn’t be kept without a mesh floor; otherwise, they would surely escape.

The enclosure, six meters wide and ten meters long, was quickly assembled. It wasn’t a complicated task—just required some effort. The setup was rudimentary, but it would do for now. Later, when he had more funds to invest, he could improve it.

After checking over the rabbit enclosure once more and confirming everything was in order, Zhong Di released the rabbits he’d bought. Making the enclosure so secure wasn’t just to prevent tunneling escape; he also had to guard against creatures like weasels, which could steal a few rabbits and cause no end of frustration.

He glanced at Yusheng, who stood nearby, gazing longingly and letting out occasional whimpers. Listless and quiet, it was clear the dog was famished.

“Yusheng, come on, let’s eat.” Hearing his master call for a meal, Yusheng’s small eyes lit up instantly, and he perked up with renewed energy.

Back in the kitchen, Zhong Di reheated the leftover porridge from the morning, fried some eggs with tomatoes, and warmed up a few steamed buns—this would serve as lunch. Or perhaps dinner; he ate whenever he had the time and was hungry, and for now, that was all he could manage.

As he ate, Zhong Di browsed messages on his phone. On XuanYin, there were still only a handful of scattered likes, a few comments, but no real buzz. One comment, however, caught his attention, suggesting he start a livestream to let people experience rural life alongside him—a promising idea.

The lack of attention was expected; without any unique features, it was hard to catch people’s eyes. In this fast-paced age, everyone’s time was precious—work to attend to, children to care for, overtime a common occurrence.

Many companies promoted a “wolf culture,” where not working overtime meant you weren’t a good employee. After overtime, people needed rest.

When they finally had some free time, there were games to play, novels to read, endless short videos to scroll through. If something didn’t grab their attention within seconds, it was unlikely to gain popularity.

Take Zhong Di himself, for example: when reading a novel, if the first three chapters didn’t appeal to him, he would abandon it unless it was exceptionally famous.

After closing XuanYin, Zhong Di opened XiaoXin. Messages popped up one after another, though this time, there weren’t as many as before. Once people learned what he was up to, most lost interest.

The initial curiosity was simply to confirm what Zhong Di was doing. Once they realized—oh, he was farming, not as well off as themselves—they gained a sense of superiority and lost interest.

He replied casually to a few friendly chats and answered some inquiries about prices. As for pricing, Zhong Di already had a clear answer in mind: forty per kilogram, shipping paid by the buyer; locals could pick up directly.

Currently, in the market, locally produced free-range eggs aside, those from large-scale, semi-feed operations sold for twenty to thirty per kilogram. His eggs, authentically free-range, deserved forty per kilogram. To Zhong Di, this was perfectly reasonable—the key was whether people recognized their value.

From the start, Zhong Di never intended to cater to the low-end market. With a prefecture-level city nearby, if he managed things well, he’d never lack for customers.

Hmm? Someone had actually added him on XiaoXin. He clicked open a few new friend requests—three in total, both men and women.

Two had notes, saying they were introduced by Su Rou—a young man and a woman. Zhong Di accepted without hesitation; this was likely the result of Su Rou promoting his orchard.

The third had the username “Miao Miao Loves Handsome Guys”—the name alone was hardly serious. Zhong Di considered rejecting, but thought better of it and accepted; perhaps she might become a steady customer.

Putting away his phone, Zhong Di quickly finished his meal and got back to work.

He continued busying himself until evening, finally stopping to hold Yusheng, check on the rabbits and chickens, and reflect that life felt rather pleasant.

Woof, woof...

Suddenly, Yusheng barked in Zhong Di’s arms. Zhong Di knew that this usually meant the dog had discovered something.

He set Yusheng down, who immediately ran toward a corner. Zhong Di followed, and when Yusheng stopped, Zhong Di examined the spot carefully.

“Good job, Yusheng—you know how to help me find eggs now.” He patted the dog’s head and picked up the egg from the ground; this little dog truly had a spark of intelligence.

“Well now, it’s a double-yolk egg. But why on earth is it outside the chicken run?” He collected the egg and circled the enclosure, soon spotting a small hole in a blind spot which he promptly blocked.

After plugging the gap, he counted the chickens—none missing. Apparently, one had slipped out to lay an egg and then returned.

Entering the chicken run, he searched around and found three more eggs, two of which were also double-yolked. That was a bit concerning.

Generally, it was normal for a chicken to lay a double-yolk egg occasionally, but several at once indicated a problem. Could it be the green feed he’d given them?

On a whim, Zhong Di opened XuanYin and shot a quick video. “Rural specialty: double-yolk eggs. If you want some, add me on XiaoXin!” He added a voice-over, then posted it to his circle.

Promoting across channels—he didn’t mind overdoing it. There wasn’t much production now, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be in the future. Once demand picked up, he could simply scale up his operation.