Chapter Forty-Five: Elder Sister Zhong Hui

Beside the water trough in the sheep pen squatted a dark shadow, seemingly drinking. The bleating flock scattered, too timid to approach. Watching the wild cat lap at the water, Zhong Di guessed it must have been drawn by the water infused with Desert Immortal Sprout. For the sake of the sheep’s health, every time he watered them, Zhong Di would add a little—not much, but enough.

The moment the flashlight flickered on, the wild cat bolted, leaving the sheep still bleating in fright.

“Zhong Di, that wild cat is huge—must be half a meter long!” Shao Hong exclaimed in wonder, glanced around the sheep pen, and began replenishing the hay. The afternoon’s feed was nearly gone already; it seemed the sheep never stopped eating, always hungry.

“We’ll have to be more careful in the future,” Zhong Di said. “Find a chance to patch up any gaps around here. If the animals in the yard—chickens and such—get stolen, it’ll be a big loss.”

But Zhong Di’s thoughts ran deeper: from the yellow weasel stealing eggs, to the hedgehog doing the same, and now this wild cat sneaking a drink. The Desert Immortal Sprout had too strong a lure; all the weak spots around needed to be patched.

After the hay was topped up, the two went indoors. Zhong Di opened his phone to edit a video—a ready clip of chicks foraging, with a photo added at the end. Once finished, he launched XuanYin to upload it.

Just as he opened the app, his phone began chiming with message alerts. It lagged, heated up, then finally caught up: tens of thousands of likes, thousands of new followers, and so many comments he couldn’t keep up.

Videos with tens of thousands of likes were common, but the catch was that Zhong Di was just a small-time user, with no fanbase.

“My goodness, baby hedgehogs are so cute! I thought they were prickly all over.”

“Is the creator raising hedgehogs at home?”

“OP, you should check your previous video.”

“Just watched and came back—does the creator have animal affinity? Wild hedgehogs willing to nest here, how rare!”

“I can’t take it; I’m smitten! Creator, can you share your address?”

...

Zhong Di read a few, replied to several, then closed the comments. Just as he was about to post today’s edit, he noticed alerts about friend requests—six or seven in all. He didn’t open them, instead scrolling through the comments.

“Creator is from Shache County—I happen to be here. Any other locals? Hands up!”

“Me…”

“Should we team up to see the baby hedgehogs? Judging from earlier videos, the creator runs a small farm. Perfect for a weekend visit.”

“How to contact the creator?”

“There’s a contact on the profile, just add them.”

“Jealous of the locals! I’m going to look for fun spots in my area too.”

So many people suddenly adding him—it was all because of this. He hadn’t expected a short video to connect him with so many locals. Of the tens of thousands of likes, even if a hundred thousand watched, the odds were still slim!

It must be the big data push—targeted by location, age, and interests to people likely to care.

He posted the newly edited video with a title, then logged off XuanYin, shutting it down from the background to avoid message alerts. Otherwise, the notifications would drive him mad.

He opened the contact app, accepted all friend requests, then closed it—unless something important came up, Zhong Di rarely checked his phone repeatedly.

Near bedtime, he went to switch the irrigation, redirecting it to the eastern plot. The advantage of drip irrigation was its ease: no need to adjust the fields like flood irrigation, and fertilizing was much simpler.

After finishing his chores, Zhong Di finally rested.

The next morning, as soon as the alarm rang, Zhong Di woke. He was about to rouse Shao Hong, but found him already up, not needing to be called.

“Up so early? No need to work so hard!” he said upon stepping outside, seeing Shao Hong pulling weeds for the chickens and rabbits.

“Since I came here, I’ve been sleeping nearly ten hours a day—more than enough. Before, I’d only get six or seven hours,” Shao Hong replied energetically, pulling weeds quickly. With money coming in these days, it was hard not to be excited.

“Alright, you keep at it. I’ll go shut off the water.” Seeing Shao Hong so industrious, Zhong Di figured the enthusiasm would fade in time.

“I already turned it off. Just need to top up the sheep feed and irrigate with manure water,” Shao Hong said, dumping a basket of grass into the rabbit pen, finishing up his work.

Well, having a helper certainly made things easier.

“Then you handle the feed, I’ll irrigate,” Zhong Di said, and began his usual routine—filtering, watering, and picking Desert Immortal Sprout in the corner.

He worked until almost noon, when the phone rang. It was Brother Against-the-Wind, calling to say a package had arrived.

Lingjing Village didn’t have direct delivery—it had to go to a nearby pickup point, Red Berry Shop. This little store handled all sorts of parcels, even sent them out, earning warehouse fees and serving the surrounding villages.

“Shao Hong, the package is here. I’ll go pick it up. If you finish, just rest—don’t wait for me at lunch, I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“Alright, take care on the road.”

Just as he started up the electric tricycle, the phone rang again—this time it was his older sister, Zhong Hui.

She rarely called these days. Since her marriage, their contact dwindled, both always busy, never seeming to have time.

At first, Zhong Di would call, but she was always busy. Eventually, he stopped trying. His sister and brother-in-law ran a small business, never free.

“Zhong Di, Mom and Dad said you’re back. Where are you?”

“In the fields.”

“I’ll come home this afternoon, stay overnight. Are you coming home today?”

Her tone sounded weary, as if something was troubling her.

“How come you’re free to visit? Not busy lately?”

“I’ll tell you tonight.”

They chatted a bit more and hung up, with Zhong Hui clearly downcast.

“Shao Hong, I won’t stay in the fields tonight. If anything comes up here, you’ll have to handle it.”

Zhong Di got off the tricycle and began gathering fish.

Since his sister was coming that evening, and there were old turtles and such here, he and Shao Hong couldn’t finish them alone, so he’d take some home.

“No problem, you go ahead—I’ve got it covered.”

“I’ll transfer twenty thousand to you later, just in case something comes up.”

“I haven’t worked here long; it’s not right to take the money.”

“No need for formality. Back in school, if you hadn’t taken that hit for me, I might’ve been crippled. Think of it as an advance bonus.”

Even when Zhong Di was poor, he’d gladly give money to Shao Hong, let alone now. Their bond, forged through hardship, was beyond what money could describe.

“Alright.”

After a few more words, Zhong Di had gathered enough—just enough for a few people, not too much, or it would go to waste.

One old turtle, six large crabs, about half a kilo of freshwater shrimp, and some snails.

He packed them up, left for the shop to collect the parcels, then headed home.

There were quite a few packages—three large bundles, all from one store. To avoid trouble, Zhong Di had chosen a single reputable vendor, bought everything at once regardless of price.

This was the northwest, and he hadn’t expected such swift delivery—Brother Against-the-Wind truly lived up to his name.

With the herbal seeds in hand, he could plant them in a couple of days.

Red Berry Shop wasn’t far from Lingjing Village; before long, he was home.

“Dad, are you home?” Zhong Di called out. The door was open. His mother usually worked, but his father sometimes couldn’t find work and stayed home.

Since the garden got busy, his father had missed several jobs, and work was dwindling.

Manual labor like loading and unloading was fickle—miss a few jobs, or fail to show up, and eventually no one calls you anymore. Everyone prefers reliable partners.

“Your dad’s not here, out working. What brings you home?” His mother emerged from the kitchen, apron tied around her waist, apparently about to cook.

Zhong Di parked the tricycle, carrying the fish he’d caught, and followed her into the kitchen.

“My sister called—she’s coming tonight. Haven’t seen her in a while, thought we could catch up.”

“These are some old turtles and such for dinner when she arrives.”

She looked as if she’d just started cooking.

“How come you brought so much again? The fish at home are all yours, but we can’t finish them. Most get given away. I meant to ask you where you got them.”

“There’s a reservoir at the garden—I cast nets there, caught these.”

“Nonsense, there aren’t that many fish in the reservoir. Your dad’s been there, too,” Di Chunhua said, shooting him a look. How could he lie so blatantly, with old turtles and all? The reservoir couldn’t have these.

The fish given away were all big; she didn’t believe they came from an abandoned reservoir.

“Really, I used our chicken bones to bait a fish nest—the fish swarmed to it,” Zhong Di sighed, incredulous that his honesty wasn’t believed.

“Alright, I’ll believe you. Go rest for a bit; lunch will be ready soon. Your dad will be home any moment. Your sister said she’d come later this afternoon.”

Once she heard they were baited with chicken bones, Di Chunhua accepted it. She knew about Mrs. Li’s daughter-in-law needing to build up milk, so if that was the case, there was no problem.

Before long, his father returned, and lunch was fish—fish soup, fish dishes—a veritable feast. According to his mother, they had to eat quickly, or it would be wasted.

They gave away plenty, kept plenty, the fridge stuffed with leftovers. Zhong Di could foresee that for a long time, the family wouldn’t be eating anything but fish—this was experience talking.