Chapter Forty-Four: When Did I Ever

The method for handling the catch wasn’t complicated: simply sort the various species, clean those that needed cleaning, slaughter those that needed slaughtering. Zhong Di worked for quite a while before finally organizing the haul. He had to admit, this was a bountiful catch—roughly estimated, nearly two hundred kilograms in total. Luckily, his family’s fishing net was sturdy; otherwise, who knows how things might have ended.

The fish made up the bulk. Both big and small fish together came to over a hundred kilograms. He decided to keep the smaller ones alive for now, save a few larger fish for himself, and take the rest home to give away. As for shrimp, crabs, and river snails—about twenty or thirty kilograms—they were resilient and went into the blue barrels he’d purchased earlier; they would stay alive for a while and could be eaten gradually.

There was only one old turtle, which Zhong Di intended to bring home for his parents, to cook some nourishing turtle soup.

“This counts as your compensation for making a girl wait. Remember, you should always compensate when you keep a lady waiting!” Su Rou smiled gently, took a few processed big fish, and pulled Lin Xiao away with her.

The imposing Mercedes left behind a fleeting shadow and disappeared down the road. With its departure, the surrounding crowd dispersed as well.

Compensation? So that’s what she meant—making a girl wait isn’t normal, after all?

In the Mercedes—

“Su Rou, is this Zhong Di you keep mentioning these days? He’s rather handsome.” “Oh, come on, I don’t talk about him that much! You’re the chatterbox, aren’t you?”

...

After Su Rou and Lin Xiao left, Zhong Di and his companion began handling the rest of the catch. All the live fish went into the large blue barrels. Once they wrapped up the tasks, Zhong Di checked on the irrigation.

This time, he first watered a plot behind the homestead; in a few days, the medicinal herb seeds would start arriving. He wanted to water early, let the soil dry, and prepare it for planting. It was already July, so annual herbs that couldn’t survive winter were out of the question, but Zhong Di’s purpose wasn’t really to harvest herbs—the experiment itself mattered more. Even if it failed, he’d gain experience.

“Shao Hong, it’s time for the organic liquid fertilizer.”

He’d watered halfway, which was the right moment for fertilizing. Some people always get confused, thinking you should fertilize as soon as you water, but that’s not the case. You should water first, then fertilize when the soil is ready. The roots absorb nutrients from about twenty to thirty centimeters below the surface. If the soil is clay-heavy, go deeper—up to half a meter; in the northwest, where sand dominates, go shallower. If you fertilize right after watering, the nutrients sink too deep to reach the roots—a pure waste.

“Alright, looks good to me. There’s some potassium dihydrogen phosphate and diammonium phosphate left in the storeroom. The jujube trees are in bloom; should we use a couple of bags?”

When managing jujube trees, three fertilizers are crucial: urea, diammonium phosphate, and potassium dihydrogen phosphate. Other fertilizers are often just repackaged and overpriced, with little real benefit—sometimes even less effective than the basics. Fertilizer manufacturers add tiny amounts of hormones for higher profits, undetectable in testing. When sold, buyers marvel at the results—effects visible within three days—but it’s the hormones at work. This not only fails to increase yields but can actually reduce them. Growing crops isn’t just about lush growth; it depends on what you’re harvesting. If you want fruit but get only vigorous leaves, what good is that?

That’s what people call fake fertilizers. If you don’t understand fertilizers, don’t buy blindly or get swayed by exaggerated claims.

“No need. We’re going for the green concept—use as little fertilizer as possible. When we spray foliar fertilizer later, we can add a bit.”

During flowering and fruit-setting, a small amount of diammonium phosphate and potassium dihydrogen phosphate is fine. Shao Hong understood, but since Zhong Di was committed to the green concept, foliar fertilizer could supplement inorganic elements; root fertilizing was out.

The green concept doesn’t mean zero fertilizer—it means using fertilizers and pesticides within reasonable limits, with many restrictions.

“Alright, I’ll follow your lead,” Shao Hong replied, and the two began filtering manure water.

They poured in a barrel—two hundred kilograms. It sounded like a lot, but actually wasn’t much. Organic fertilizer is bulky, awkward to apply, and the effects aren’t obvious, so few bother with it. Usually, it’s used as a base fertilizer in spring, if at all. Chemical fertilizers are much simpler: just pour, irrigate, and you’re done.

They parked the electric tricycle beside the manure barrel, used a filter net to process the manure bit by bit, hauled it to the well house, and poured it into the fertilizer tank. After over an hour of work, the organic fertilizer was ready.

This wasn’t sustainable; Zhong Di planned to research a formula for a more effective organic fertilizer to simplify things.

By noon, Zhong Di switched plots and began cooking fish. He didn’t have a full set of spices, so planned a simple braised fish. He’d barely started before Shao Hong began to complain and soon took over. Once Shao Hong started, he transformed completely. When the fragrant braised fish was set before Zhong Di, he happily decided that from now on, Shao Hong would handle all cooking.

He’d never realized Shao Hong was so skilled in the kitchen.

After lunch, they rested briefly, then Zhong Di loaded the remaining big fish and took them home. His parents would know just how to process them.

As soon as he reached the fields, Zhong Di received a call from his father.

“Do you remember the native chicken from Uncle Li’s place I gave you last time?”

His father’s voice sounded urgent, clearly worried.

“I remember. What’s wrong? Is there a problem?”

Hearing his father ask, Zhong Di felt a bit uneasy. He wasn’t sure what effect feeding the chickens with Wild Sand Immortal Sprouts would have. Recently, even if they slaughtered chickens, it was only chicks—fed little of the special herb, and with so many, the only noticeable change was in flavor.

But for the big chickens, he had no idea.

“Your Uncle Li’s daughter-in-law ate one of our chickens. On the same day, she started producing breast milk—was happy at first, but then it wouldn’t stop. They’re worried. Is this a problem?”

As he spoke, Zhong Tian was praying nothing serious would happen. Any trouble now would be disastrous for their family.

Too much milk?

According to the original Wild Sand Immortal Sprout, mutations would always be beneficial, so…there shouldn’t be a problem.

“Dad, ask if she ate too much. Our chickens are fed highly nourishing stuff; it’s normal to have that effect if you eat a lot. Just tell her not to eat any more.”

Zhong Di forced out a solution. If the Wild Sand Immortal Sprout hadn’t hinted there’d be no harm, he wouldn’t dare say that.

“Alright, I’ll call and ask.”

Zhong Tian hung up.

The big chickens would need to be handled carefully in the future—not sold casually. Even if he wanted to sell, he’d have to research thoroughly first.

The unexpected event left Zhong Di distracted, wandering idly while he waited for news.

After a while, his father called back.

“I asked. Our chicken was so good, Uncle Li’s daughter-in-law ate half a chicken last night, another half this morning, and half again at noon.”

“I told her, just like you said, to stop or eat less.”

This time, Zhong Tian wasn’t as nervous; it was clearly caused by overeating. The chickens were highly nourishing—just like deer blood, which causes nosebleeds if consumed excessively.

“Right, it must have been from eating too much.”

After hanging up, Zhong Di breathed a sigh of relief—no major problem.

He spent the afternoon watering. Routine watering wasn’t as time-consuming as large-scale irrigation. By evening, he’d finished the west plot, and if he pulled an all-nighter, the east plot would be almost done.

Originally, Zhong Di intended for the two of them to spend spare time eating chicken together, aside from filtering manure water. He and Shao Hong always worked well together, but alone, it wasn’t the same.

But Shao Hong insisted on finishing the chores—cleaning this, tidying that. The chicken coop, rabbit pen, and sheepfold were all cleaned thoroughly.

The manure was temporarily piled between the sheepfold and the shelterbelt, left to ferment. High summer temperatures sped up the process. He’d later buy some lime, sprinkle and water it, cover with plastic—the heat would rise quickly, disinfecting as well.

After dinner—

“Come eat chicken!”

Zhong Di raised his phone, signaling Shao Hong that the meal was ready.

“I refuse.”

Shao Hong put on headphones and started listening to music, ignoring Zhong Di no matter what he said.

He wasn’t about to repeat the ordeal of eating chicken together—it was too frustrating. Besides, he had novels to catch up on. The three great pastimes: binge-watching shows, binge-reading novels, and gaming—must be scheduled.

Zhong Di played a few rounds himself: three games ended in instant defeat, two he managed to survive to the seventies, then gave up, quitting the game—not in the mood today.

Baa baa baa!

Just as Zhong Di was about to do something else, the sheep started bleating—at first intermittently, then nonstop.

“Shao Hong, did we forget to give the sheep water?”

“Seems so. I remember feeding them grass, though.”

Hearing the sheep, they both got up and grabbed flashlights.

“Zhong Di, what’s that?”

Before turning on the flashlight, Shao Hong spotted a dark shadow beside the sheepfold’s water trough.

“Shh! Looks like a wild cat—probably drinking water.”

Zhong Di quickly took out his phone, snapped a few photos, then used the flash and zoom for another shot.

He already had the headline in mind: Midnight fright—who would have guessed it was…

He’d add some videos of their chickens foraging, then finish with this photo—done.

A perfect clickbait headline!