Chapter 22: More or Less, a Rival in Love

Seeing the chicks had fallen ill, Zhong Di suddenly thought of the rabbits—would the heat cause problems when the does were nursing their litters? The moment this thought crossed his mind, Zhong Di headed toward the rabbit pens.

The chickens were lively and energetic; there didn’t seem to be any issues. In the nesting boxes, a few extra eggs had appeared—likely laid just recently. Zhong Di didn’t bother to collect them right away; he figured gathering eggs once a day would suffice.

Passing the chicken run, he arrived at the rabbit hutch and crouched down to inspect. The mother rabbit was curled up in her nest, seemingly nursing her kits. Just then, the doe shifted position, and Zhong Di caught a clear glimpse of the newborns suckling. The little rabbits were tiny, each no more than ten centimeters long. Newly born, they had no fur, their pink skin delicate and lovely—if a girl saw them, she’d likely be utterly charmed.

He couldn’t tell exactly how many there were, but he’d know soon enough. There was no need to count now.

As Zhong Di turned to leave, he noticed another rabbit crouched in the nest. “Well, well—while I wasn’t looking, two more does have had their litters?” It was perfectly normal to buy a rabbit already pregnant, but three does with litters at once—that was either incredible luck or, perhaps, an exceptional run of bad luck.

Zhong Di had never believed in his own luck. Ever since university, from scratch-off tickets to sports lotteries, he’d never won a thing.

“Looks like I’ll need to build a few more nests, just in case.” He’d put together five in total, and now three were in use. If the bucks worked overtime, the remaining space certainly wouldn’t be enough. Rabbits weren’t like people—the males took only a second or three to do their job, and within a few days, the matter was settled.

Achoo! The chick kept sneezing. It was best to make a trip to town, pick up some isatis root and a few free-range chickens. He’d also buy a few more large barrels to ferment more sheep manure—boosting the output of the Desert Immortal Sprouts.

At this rate, demand for Desert Immortal Sprouts would only continue to rise.

Zhong Di had a plan: if steeping the sprouts in water proved effective, he’d stick with that method. It would increase utilization, and he could buy a juicer to experiment, slowly working out the ideal proportions.

He explained things to his mother and then set off to town in his electric tricycle. Yu Sheng did not follow, seemingly in a huff. Most dogs didn’t get upset, but Zhong Di found Yu Sheng’s behavior quite amusing.

Once in town, Zhong Di first headed to the barrel shop. They cost two hundred yuan each; he bought twenty. The more, the better. These were standard blue oil drums, each capable of holding two hundred liters.

Originally, Zhong Di had planned to construct a fermentation pit, but Uncle Zhang had told him no additional structures were allowed here, so he changed his mind. Barrels were handy—easy to move and useful for all sorts of purposes.

He arranged a delivery time with the shop owner and left his contact information, since his electric tricycle couldn’t carry the load.

“Zhong Di?”

Just as he was about to head to the open market, a voice—both familiar and strange—called out to him.

“It’s really you! I haven’t heard from you in years. You look so different, I almost didn’t recognize you. What have you been up to lately?”

“Yeah, I almost didn’t recognize you either. I’ve been working on an orchard recently,” Zhong Di replied.

Seeing the man, Zhong Di finally remembered who he was—Wu Kai, his middle school rival in love. Wu Kai had liked a girl who claimed to have feelings for Zhong Di. Coincidentally, Zhong Di was also fond of her, so he gladly sought her out. But the girl confessed she’d only said that to reject Wu Kai.

Such melodrama—Zhong Di preferred not to dwell on it.

“I heard you got into high school. What happened—couldn’t keep up?” Wu Kai was a bit surprised. Back in middle school, Zhong Di had been top of the class and had indeed been admitted to a good high school.

“I did get in,” Zhong Di replied.

“Then why are you back here farming? Couldn’t find a suitable job?”

“I just…wanted to farm, I suppose.” Zhong Di didn’t quite know how to answer Wu Kai’s question, so that was all he could say.

It seemed people always held certain prejudices about farming. But Zhong Di had no intention of changing anyone’s mind. Life was about doing what felt right to oneself.

“If you ever get tired of farming, just come find me. Here’s my card. There’s no need to tough it out—after all, we were classmates. I’ll help if I can.”

“I dropped out in my first year of high school, drifted around for a few years, didn’t make much of myself, so I came back. My dad gave me a factory—earns a few million a year. If you come work for me and do well, I guarantee you’ll make a hundred thousand a year. In a few years, you could buy a house in Sandcart County, maybe even in Kulun City.”

“Oh, and I married Yaxin. We couldn’t reach you at the time, so we didn’t invite you.”

“Ah, look at me—I almost forgot. I’ve got something else to do, I’ll be off. If you need help, remember to call me.”

With that, Wu Kai climbed into his BMW X6 and sped away. Throughout the exchange, Zhong Di had tried to interject several times, but Wu Kai’s rapid-fire speech left him no chance, so he said nothing.

Staring at the business card in his hand, Zhong Di quietly tossed it into a trash bin and drove away in his tricycle.

Some people are destined to be mere passersby; there’s no need to force a connection. Wu Kai’s overtures were nothing more than a display of superiority. In this world, everyone seeks a sense of value, a sense of superiority—it’s not just Wu Kai. It wasn’t malice that led Zhong Di to this conclusion; it was simply reality. Some people crave fame, some wealth, while others simply seek amusement.

Having wasted some time, Zhong Di sped up his errands. At the open market, he bought nearly three hundred free-range chickens at an average price of seventy yuan each. He took the smaller batch home himself; the rest would be delivered to his orchard.

With those matters settled, he went to the pharmacy and bought several large bags of isatis root. It was a cure-all that cured nothing in particular, serving only as a preventive measure. He planned to feed it to all the chickens as a precaution, leaving any real treatment to the Desert Immortal Sprouts.

Finished with his shopping, Zhong Di didn’t linger in town but headed straight back to the orchard. The sun was slanting westward, its rays filtering through the poplars onto Zhong Di’s face.

Unknowingly, another day had passed.

When he returned, his mother was still mowing grass; Uncle Zhang and the others had already left. Seeing Zhong Di arrive, Di Chunhua set aside her work and examined the chickens he’d bought. She already knew about the formula—she’d tasted the egg pancake herself. That was why she’d contributed her savings to support Zhong Di’s venture.

“So you bought chickens—why only a few?” Di Chunhua asked curiously. In her view, they should buy as many as they could afford—what was there to hesitate about?

“There are more—three hundred in total. The rest will be delivered tomorrow. The formula is still being refined; I can’t risk scaling up production yet, so I didn’t dare buy too many at once,” Zhong Di explained.

“Hush, keep your voice down. You just do what you think is best. Mom supports you. If you run into trouble, just let the family know.”

“Of course. All right, Mom, it’s getting dark. You should head home,” Zhong Di urged her. Once night fell, the roads became unsafe.