Chapter 174: Poplars in the Desert

Returning to the farm, Zhong Di’s mind never found peace. On the way back, he had been thinking about how to draft the medicinal plan for the Peach Garden, but once home, his thoughts abruptly shattered.

“Enough, enough, no need to repeat today’s revenue again,” Zhong Di said. If he remembered correctly, Shao Hong had mentioned the day’s earnings four times already.

At first, Zhong Di could humbly respond here and there, but as time went on, his interest waned. It was always about how much money was made, this and that—there was no topic that truly engaged him.

“How about some late-night snacks?” Shao Hong, sensing Zhong Di’s lack of enthusiasm, changed the subject.

He could tell Zhong Di wasn’t particularly interested in the previous topic, so after enthusiastically finishing his spiel, he stopped on his own accord.

“What should we eat?”

At the mention of food, Zhong Di’s eyes lit up! Finally, a subject he cared about. When it came to food, he considered himself a self-proclaimed gourmet, and rightly so!

Setting aside their own vegetables and meats, all blessed by the wild sand immortal bud, Zhong Di’s personal palate was vast and refined.

As he asked the question, his mind was already racing through various delicacies, the first thought being a seafood feast—something he could never tire of.

Convenience, speed, simplicity—those were secondary.

“A seafood feast?” Shao Hong instinctively repeated.

Lately, seafood feasts had become their staple—easy, quick, and most importantly, delicious without the worry of gaining weight or upsetting the stomach.

Thanks to their connection with Qian Weining, their fridge was always stocked with fresh, authentic seafood. Plus, with a fish pond on the farm, seafood was never scarce.

When it came to food choices, Shao Hong was easygoing. Whatever Zhong Di wanted to eat, he was happy to follow, having no personal preferences.

“Forget it, after eating so much lately, no matter how good it is, it just doesn’t feel special anymore.”

Woof! Suddenly, Yusheng dashed over, dropping a plump rabbit on the ground.

Well then, no need to think anymore—roast rabbit it is!

Zhong Di exchanged a glance with Shao Hong, and they both saw the unspoken agreement in each other’s eyes. Somehow, it felt a bit absurd.

Not long after, the yellow marten appeared again, this time bringing a turtledove. Catching a turtledove? Impressive.

A while later, the wild cat came back—the same three from last night—bringing a wild pheasant.

Good heavens, tonight was truly complete: three different kinds of meat.

The best way to enjoy them was roasted over the fire.

As night fell, a bonfire blazed. Two men, a dog, and three wild cats gathered around it.

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Early the next morning, Zhong Di was roused by Shao Hong. Today was a rest day on the farm—not just today, but tomorrow as well—two days off in total.

These days were arranged by Zhong Di’s elder sister: a visit to a nearby tourist spot, followed by a trek through the desert.

Finally a break, yet no chance to sleep in—they were up at dawn.

“Come on, finish your chores quickly so we can go have fun,” Shao Hong urged.

He had already fed the animals the day before, anticipating no one would be around to tend to the farm while they were away.

Every enclosure was stocked with plenty of feed; even the wild cat’s lodging was piled high with food and water. No worries there.

“What’s the point of playing? Isn’t it better to sleep in on a day off?” Zhong Di yawned, dressing sluggishly.

As he said, what was the rush to wander about? Staying inside, sleeping until waking naturally, eating and drinking at leisure, lounging on a recliner to watch the sunrise and sunset—that was comfort itself.

But alas.

By the time they finished preparing, the sun was already high. Zhong Di’s sister arrived with their parents, Xiaoxi, and Shao Hong’s mother—seven people in all.

It was a small gathering, two cars in total: Zhong Di’s family in one, Shao Hong and his mother in the other.

Their destination: the poplar forest.

Though mid-September, the forest hadn’t yet turned golden, it was still beautiful. The highlight was the desert lake—an enchanting sight. Riding camels and camping in tents promised sheer delight.

Traveling swiftly, they soon arrived at the park.

Perhaps due to it being a Tuesday, the park was nearly deserted, which was ideal—no crowds, plenty of space to take stunning photos.

After paying the entrance fee, Zhong Di and the group entered.

Vast expanses of poplars stretched before them, instantly mesmerizing.

Poplars had existed for 65 million years, enduring countless ages—a living fossil.

Most of the world’s poplars grew in China, and ninety percent of China’s poplars thrived along the Tarim River basin in the northwest.

The Tarim Basin alone boasted a protected poplar forest area of 3,800 square kilometers.

Locally, these were called Toklak, meaning “the most beautiful tree.”

Being a tourist spot, there was inevitably human influence, lacking the untouched nature of a reserve.

Fortunately, this park wasn’t overly commercialized, and most sights were still fully appreciable.

Looking out, endless golden sands rolled in waves—peaks and troughs—visually stunning.

Each person carried a backpack as they wandered through the desert.

Not far in, they came upon a vast cluster of poplars, their beauty fully displayed in this season.

What made poplars so magnificent? Their stark contrast—thriving robustly in a desert where few plants could survive, like plum blossoms blooming in snow.

Zhong Di surveyed the scene, exclaiming with delight. All his former gloom vanished, his mind emptied and tranquil.

Without pause, they pressed onward. No one spoke; everyone savored the moment’s peacefulness.

The sky was clear blue, the sun radiant. In this sparsely inhabited desert, the group moved silently.

Deeper into the desert, poplars grew denser, and the air grew more humid. That gradual shift from arid to moist was a sensation unique to northwest China.

Perhaps a kilometer away, the air remained dry and harsh. But after a kilometer, humidity rose, enveloping one in comfort.

“Look, a lake!”

Someone shouted, drawing all eyes to a nearby body of water.

In a low basin ahead lay a shallow lake, dotted with poplars. At the edge was a small dock where several dugout canoes rested.

A dugout canoe, carved from a single log, accommodated one or two passengers—usually two.

Zhong Di glanced around; everyone exchanged looks, reading each other’s thoughts.

“I’ll go with Xiaoxi,” Zhong Di quickly volunteered.