Chapter 144: Absolutely Infuriating (Extra Chapter with Monthly Ticket)

August 31st, Monday.

At the break of dawn, Zhong Di was already up, and his first move was to rush to the guesthouse where the Pallas’s cats were kept, hurriedly attending to all sorts of tasks.

Scooping litter, refilling water, adding chunks of chicken, cleaning up various kinds of mess.

Being a caregiver meant not only enjoying the joy brought by his little ones but also fulfilling the duties and responsibilities that came with it.

After two days of care, the Pallas’s cats had gradually adapted to their new environment and were living comfortably. Under Zhong Di’s guidance, some necessary preventive health measures had begun.

As for the paperwork, Wu Qi had entrusted it all to Zhong Di. Obtaining the right to care for Pallas’s cats was an exceptionally rare privilege.

“Da Mao, you’re being naughty again! Look at what you’ve done to this cushion,” Zhong Di scolded while cleaning the stuffing out of the cushion.

As expected of a male, Da Mao was a bit more mischievous. Compared to Er Mao and San Mao, Da Mao was larger in size and had a distinctive feature—a patch of pure white fur along his nose bridge, so bright it almost glowed.

It made Zhong Di want to rename Da Mao altogether.

“Er Mao, San Mao, you two behave yourselves, don’t learn from your brother,” Zhong Di reminded them after tidying up the guesthouse.

The two little female Pallas’s cats seemed much more well-behaved. Since it was uncertain whether they were from the same litter, Zhong Di decided to treat them as sisters for the time being.

“Zhong Di, is there anything else we need to buy?” Shao Hong, dressed in clean and comfortable casual clothes, asked, quite different from usual.

“No, let’s head back quickly. Go see your mother and pass along my regards,” Zhong Di replied.

After leaving the guesthouse and exchanging some casual words with Shao Hong, he departed.

Today was a rest day for the farm, a recently established rule: four full rest days per month, with the other rest days rotating.

These four days weren’t necessarily Sundays or Mondays but were set on the 7th, 15th, 22nd, and the last day of the month.

Today happened to be the last day, a complete break—no business, no customer visits, no labor.

Of course, Zhong Di personally wasn’t bound by these rules.

Besides rest, wages had been paid yesterday. His parents received a monthly salary of 4,500 yuan each. If they wanted more, they simply wouldn’t accept it, and Zhong Di could do nothing to persuade them.

Regarding profit sharing, Zhong Di allocated 10% dividends to his parents, which he used to purchase high-value pension insurance and critical illness coverage for them.

The rest was for daily expenses, given directly to his parents for their own use.

Initially, Zhong Di planned to give them the money outright but reconsidered since his parents lacked financial management skills and didn’t invest. Most likely, they’d either hide the money or deposit it in a bank.

Neither option was ideal: hiding cash meant losing value due to inflation, and bank interest was minimal, quickly eaten up by inflation.

So, he converted this into other benefits, which was agreed upon privately during a meeting. Neither his elder sister nor Shao Hong objected.

For his elder sister, Zhong Di firmly set a base salary of 4,500 yuan plus a 1,500 yuan bonus. The reasons behind this were understood by those familiar with the situation.

Profit sharing was adjusted to a monthly dividend of 10%, putting her on par with Shao Hong.

Since his sister had begun to fully realize her capabilities, her contributions far exceeded the salary Zhong Di initially proposed, so the compensation structure was modified.

Originally, Zhong Di wanted to give 20%, but his sister refused, insisting on just 10%, which was already difficult for her to accept.

Shao Hong felt quite embarrassed. He had thought that 10% was reasonable, but after seeing the income figures, he felt his effort and the money he received were completely mismatched—not because it was too little, but because it was too much.

Nevertheless, Zhong Di maintained the arrangement and gave Shao Hong the same base salary of 4,500 yuan as his parents.

Shao Hong had his opinions, and Zhong Di had his.

In Zhong Di’s view, Shao Hong hardly ever returned home, yet managed the entire farm’s development tirelessly and wholeheartedly. Earning 10% of the net profit was truly not excessive.

Zha Ke’er and another colleague each received a 4,500 yuan salary, a 1,500 yuan bonus, plus a 0.1% commission on gross profit. Overall, their income was quite high.

These adjustments were made after Zhong Di reviewed the profit figures yesterday.

Social insurance and housing funds were still to be implemented and needed further improvement, but that was not urgent now.

Compared to social benefits, everyone preferred to receive that money directly.

As for Zhong Di himself, he felt awkward taking such a high salary. Most days, he was quite idle, so he symbolically took a base salary of 2,000 yuan. Compared to 70-80% of the farm’s profit shares, 2,000 yuan was paltry.

But since the rules were set that everyone must draw a salary, and it wouldn’t be right for him to take none, he settled on this modest sum.

After Shao Hong left, there was still work to be done.

Zhong Di embarked on a long day of miscellaneous chores: collecting eggs, weeding, watering, and various other odd jobs.

Tasks that seemed easy on the surface felt overwhelming when done personally. By noon, he had only just managed to finish the basics.

Just these few chores had kept him busy for so long—it was truly no small feat.

They had recently purchased more chickens, maintaining a flock of over four hundred.

This was mainly to prevent mice from stealing eggs, and to reward the yellow weasels that helped catch the rodents.

Indeed, since beginning this arrangement, the number of mice in the fields had noticeably decreased.

To track how many mice the yellow weasels caught, they made sure to leave the tails behind when feeding the mice to the weasels, collecting them in a corner. Shao Hong roughly recorded the count.

On average, about thirty mice were caught each day. Given this number, the quantity of yellow weasels wasn’t large, but they caught mice much faster than a few cats would.

The rabbit population was astonishingly prolific, but their consumption was equally rapid. Whenever there was a shortage, new rabbits had to be bought to fill the gap, so the basic cycle was not yet established.

Meat pigeons fared better; being small, they required little space. After replenishing a large batch, their numbers had stabilized in a dynamic balance.

The same equilibrium was reached with sheep, ducks, mandarin ducks, and geese.

As for the others, they were strictly off-limits for sale and only available for viewing.

After finishing the miscellaneous tasks, Zhong Di remembered the few Pallas’s cats still waiting to be fed and cared for. He couldn’t neglect these precious little ones.

So, without even eating his own meal, he decided to check on his offspring first. A caregiver must fulfill his role well, and only when the little ones were stable could he slowly let go.

Woof!

Yu Sheng voiced his protest. Ever since his father had new little ones, he felt neglected, as if his very existence had been forgotten. It was enough to enrage any dog.