Chapter 165: The Pallas’s Cat Is in Trouble

Watching Zhong Di, Shao Hong also plucked a red date and muttered, "Hmm, it is quite sweet."

After saying this, he paused, then suddenly realized something, and asked in surprise, "Wait, what did you say? Fermenting red date wine? Can red dates even be used to make wine?"

"Yes, most fruits can be used to make wine. It just depends on personal taste and level of acceptance. Believe it or not, you can even make watermelon wine or melon wine."

Zhong Di was well-versed in this area. In fact, it wasn't Shao Hong's fault for not knowing; many people subconsciously only think of grapes or other common fruits when it comes to winemaking. Red date wine was simply outside his realm of knowledge.

In Chinese history, red date wine appeared long ago. It is divided into two types: brewed red date wine and infused red date wine. Red date wine retains the medicinal properties of red dates—tonifying the middle, boosting qi, nourishing the blood, and calming the mind. Long-term consumption provides excellent dietary benefits. Its earliest record dates back to 1033 AD in the Northern Song Dynasty, originating from Fenxi in central Shanxi.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's get to it tonight," Shao Hong said, feeling eager.

"Fine, let's do it tonight."

After discussing some work matters, the two went to eat. The simple stir-fried dishes were delicious, though the lack of alcohol made the meal feel like something was missing. After eating, Zhong Di skipped his nap, and they headed straight to the logistics company to pick up the saplings. Getting them back and planted early would put his mind at ease.

The seller had packed them carefully, and the saplings were in good condition—aside from looking a bit wilted, there were no issues. Zhong Di hadn't bought many of each variety; he was using the first greenhouse as an experimental one to test the waters and make adjustments.

Planting trees might seem simple—digging a hole, burying the roots, and watering—but those small steps take time. Especially since these were rare species, the workers were nervous, afraid of making mistakes, which slowed them down even further.

"Zhong Di, what kind of saplings are these? They smell like oranges. They aren't orange trees, are they?" An oily-faced middle-aged man sniffed left and right, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Hmm, I think so too. This stuff must be rare; I've never seen it before. It’s bound to be profitable."

"Whether it's profitable or not, it'll definitely attract a lot of visitors. Even if we don't count on this to make money, if they come here and spend money on other things, that’s stimulating consumption."

Many people started chatting because of these rare items, one sentence leading to another. Surprisingly, someone had actually guessed Zhong Di's intention. From the start, Zhong Di never expected this to be a primary source of income. He planned to keep some for himself and let the rest be for display. If people wanted to buy them, that was fine, but it would certainly be limited.

Once a certain threshold was reached, sales would stop; their main purpose was to attract foot traffic.

"Uncle, these are lemon trees. Oranges don't grow well in our climate." Seeing where this was going, Zhong Di knew he had to explain, or they wouldn't stop anytime soon.

Zhong Di had bought quite a few lemon trees, all of which were the "four seasons" variety; as long as the temperature was right, they would bear fruit year-round. He had decided to buy so many after seeing Sun Miaomiao's lemon tree. Lemons are useful for cooking and tea, and they can even help remove odors. It would be nice to pluck the leaves and place them in areas that needed freshening.

"Oh, so it's a lemon. I'm familiar with lemons; my daughter loves lemon tea. Now that I smell it closely, it really is lemon. But why does it smell a bit like an orange?"

"Lemon trees and orange trees are in the same family, just like pears and apples, or apricots and plums."

"Oh..."

The men chatted for a while longer before ending the topic. After the conversation, they felt less nervous and loosened up, and their work speed increased significantly.

Dragon fruit trees, kiwi trees, passion fruit trees... many of these were notoriously difficult to grow, while others were quite easy. They worked until the afternoon, and the job was basically done, leaving only minor details like banking the soil, fixing gaps in the plastic film, or repairing tears. Shao Hong would come back the next day to inspect these himself.

"Zhong Di, come look at the Pallas's cat! What's wrong with it?"

"Alright, I'm coming!" Zhong Di immediately dropped what he was holding and rushed toward the direction of the Pallas's cat.

Zhong Di was exceptionally worried about the Pallas's cat. He couldn't let anything happen to it; as its "father," he would be heartbroken. His sister's urgent tone suggested something serious. He knew how difficult it was to raise them—there were only a little over a hundred in zoos worldwide, and they struggled to reproduce or the cubs died easily. This made them harder to care for than lions or tigers. That was why he was so anxious, and he hadn't expected something to go wrong after all his precautions.

Zhong Di ran as fast as he could, crossing the farm in no time.

"What happened?"

"Look, right at the door. I don't know why, but the cat is just lying there, motionless. I didn't dare touch it, so I came to get you."

"Hmm, let me see."

Zhong Di examined the Pallas's cat. It was Da Mao; the small tuft of white fur on its nose was very distinct, so he recognized it instantly. Looking at the situation, it seemed the cat had tried to sneak out by clawing at the door, but for some reason, it ended up lying on the ground.

"Da Mao, Da Mao." Zhong Di called out twice, then hurriedly opened the door. Er Mao and San Mao were huddled together, looking wilted as well. Something was definitely wrong.

Zhong Di instinctively wanted to call Officer Xing. He had done everything right, and they were fine just a moment ago—why had they suddenly become like this?

*Whimper!*

Just as Zhong Di was about to call, he heard a whimper from Da Mao. Thankfully, it wasn't dead; if it wasn't dead, there was still hope. Suddenly, Da Mao bit onto Zhong Di's pant leg and tried to pull him inside the room. Zhong Di realized the cat wanted him to see something.

Once inside, Zhong Di followed Da Mao's gaze.

Dead mice!

Zhong Di found three dead mice in the room. One had been partially eaten, while the other two were intact. Could they be poisoned mice? Who would put out rat poison in the house? That didn't seem right; even if there were poison, the Pallas's cats were here—the mice wouldn't dare approach, and if they did, the cats would have caught them immediately. Moreover, the cats had been living there for a long time; there shouldn't be any mice left, and if there were, they couldn't get in. Plus, these were dead mice, and there was no sign of poison or residue nearby.

There was definitely something wrong. What should he do? Zhong Di set aside the idea of calling Officer Xing. What if someone on the farm, or even his parents, had put out the poison? If that were the case, how should he handle it?