Chapter Fifty: Are You Really Not Going Shopping With Me?

Shao Hong appeared rough and burly, but in truth, he was exceptionally meticulous—otherwise, he could never have mastered such fine culinary skills. Though they once shared a dormitory bunk, that hardly counted as truly living together. Now, after closer collaboration, Shao Hong’s many qualities became apparent. Bringing him in was a wise decision; as for that ten percent share of profit, it was insignificant and not worth fussing over.

“So what do we do now?”

After Zhong Di finished speaking, Shao Hong became flustered. His decision had led to complications, and he felt guilty about it.

“It’s alright, don’t worry. On the whole, things are about where they should be. I was planning to apply the foliar fertilizer today and plant tomorrow anyway.”

This was something Zhong Di had already considered—any further delay, and the jujubes would be beyond saving.

“How about we call in two extra hands? We can handle the fertilizer, and have them plant the medicinal herbs.”

“Hmm, good idea.”

Once they settled on this, Zhong Di called his mother to ask her to find a few temporary workers.

While waiting, Zhong Di went to pick some Wild Sand Immortal Sprouts, then pretended to mix some herbal concoctions and fed them to the chickens. The little hedgehog was still drinking milk and looked healthy. The rabbits in their pen were lively; another one had given birth, and the nest was ample, even overflowing. Likely, Shao Hong had built it while he was away. The baby rabbits now had tufts of fur, no longer the pink, naked things they’d been at first.

Zhong Di even spotted a larger young rabbit, its growth astonishing. Typically, baby rabbits only start nibbling grass after about twenty days, but this one had grown so quickly—could it be the effect of the Wild Sand Immortal Sprout? This stuff was incredible!

In the sheep pen, one sheep was chasing another—well, making lambs, as it were.

Soon, the workers arrived—three in all. One was that burly aunt from before; Zhong Di made a point to ask her name and jot it down: Zhang Xiaohua. Yes, “Little Flower”—indeed, a blossom in her own right.

During planting, all seeds were soaked in water infused with Wild Sand Immortal Sprout. It wasn’t until noon that Zhong Di cooked. After their meal, the aunts insisted on working overtime—they’d come late, so they refused to rest further. But with the sun blazing high, heatstroke was a real risk. Zhong Di insisted they rest in the shade and also prepared some mung bean soup.

When boiling the soup, he almost added some Wild Sand Immortal Sprout out of habit, but worried about unforeseen consequences, he refrained—there would be time to experiment later.

Just as he was about to resume spraying the fertilizer, his phone rang.

“Are you in the orchard, big brother?”

As soon as he picked up, he recognized the familiar voice—Sun Miaomiao. Had it been earlier, he might not have known, but now he was quite familiar with her.

“I’m here. What’s up?” he asked curiously.

Usually, Sun Miaomiao sent him short messages; calling like this was a first.

“Oh, well, I’ll be there soon. Wait for me!” she said, hanging up at once.

Not long after, Sun Miaomiao arrived.

Today, she wore her long hair down, her delicate makeup fresh and refined. She was dressed in a light blue plaid dress and white strap sandals, her pink toes peeking out and painted with blue polish. Her bare legs shone in the light, drawing the eye.

Zhong Di brought out the tea he had prepared, taking a cup for himself as well. He had anticipated more visitors to the orchard as time went on and made a habit of keeping tea at hand. In the future, with more funds, he planned to furnish the homestead with proper spaces for tea-drinking, planting grapevines all around.

For now, this would have to suffice.

“Have some tea—the cups are new, never used.”

It was only plain boiled water, not any fancy tea leaves.

“Thank you! You’re so thoughtful, big brother! Would you like to go shopping with me? So many people would jump at the chance.”

Sun Miaomiao flashed a sweet smile, took the cup, and sipped, leaving a faint lipstick mark on the rim.

“Get to the point,” Zhong Di said.

Her gentle movements were pleasing to the eye—wealthy people really did possess an elegance ordinary folk lacked.

“You’re so mean, you’ll be the death of me! Fine, here’s the real reason—I brought a contract.” Sun Miaomiao produced a document and handed it over.

Zhong Di took it, sipped his water, and began reading.

“Your chickens—sold by weight, three hundred per kilo. How about it?”

Pffft—

Zhong Di spat out his water, thankfully not at Sun Miaomiao.

“What did you say? Three hundred per kilo?”

He had never imagined Dongyang would offer such a high price. Clearly, he would need to raise another batch of chicks.

“It’s not much. One dish with your chicken goes for at least eighteen hundred and eighty-eight. We’ll profit, but the real value isn’t in the margin—it’s the draw your chickens bring to Dongyang.”

When business was at hand, Sun Miaomiao’s demeanor shifted to one of crisp professionalism.

“Alright, but as before, I decide how much to supply.”

He scrutinized the contract—no loopholes, nothing vague or suspect. Many agreements contained hidden traps that could cause trouble later, but not this one.

“Sure, it’s your call.”

The contract was signed quickly—just a few lines, mainly about priority supply. Dongyang only wanted an assurance; outfits like theirs dreaded supply issues most, especially when their lifeline was in Zhong Di’s hands. If he suddenly stopped supplying, there’d be no alternatives to turn to.

Zhong Di held all the cards.

“By the way, does your orchard have a business license yet?” Sun Miaomiao glanced at the contract, pondering. For now, the operation was small, but as it grew, any investigation would bring legal trouble.

“Not yet, is it necessary? I thought agriculture wasn’t taxed, so I didn’t consider it.”

He was surprised—his impression was that small farms never needed business licenses.

“That’s only for small scale, and tax or no tax aside, being licensed is proper and prevents issues. I’ll let you know what’s needed—just send me the basic info and I’ll handle it.”

If her big brother needed help, she’d take care of it quickly.

“Alright, thank you.”

Having Sun Miaomiao manage this was far better than running around himself.

“Big brother, really not going shopping with me?” she tried again, seeing their business concluded.

“I need to spray the fields this afternoon—there’s still much to do.”

Shopping was not for him; time was better spent working the land. Only Wen Ya had ever made his heart stir. As time passed, he seemed to grow used to life without her, or perhaps he simply didn’t want to revisit those memories.

“Then next time, when you’re free, let’s go!”

Just as Sun Miaomiao was leaving, a Mercedes turned the corner of the asphalt road and stopped in front of Zhong Di’s orchard.

“Zhong Di, do you have any eggs left?”

Su Rou leapt out of the car, hurrying into the orchard. She was dressed plainly in casual wear, but her subtle aura made her anything but ordinary.

“Ah! Big brother, who is she? Why can she just walk right in?”

Seeing another beauty—well, one just a bit less attractive than herself—arrive, Sun Miaomiao instinctively felt threatened. Big brother was hers; no one else could have him. She’d decided that long ago.

“A friend—and a client. I’ll go fetch her eggs.”

“Oh… okay.” She felt a bit awkward.

Sun Miaomiao glanced at Su Rou, then got into her own car.

“So annoying! Am I not pretty enough? I put special effort into my appearance today. Can a patch of land really be more appealing than me?” she muttered as she drove away.

“I’ll take the eggs—will transfer you the money later. I’m counting on these eggs to save a life. Someone with anorexia can’t keep anything down and is terribly weak,” Su Rou explained in a rush.

“Zhong Di, pen up the chickens—they’ve torn up the vegetable patch… Oh, hello, welcome!” Shao Hong called out before he even arrived.

“This chicken?” Zhong Di pointed at the bird in Shao Hong’s hand.

“I lost my temper—killed one. That’s… that’s alright, isn’t it? I was impulsive.”

“No problem, just right.”

Zhong Di took the chicken, quickly bagged it, and handed it to Su Rou.

“Take it home and make soup.”

“Soup? Alright, I understand. I’ll pay you later—I need to rush.”

Su Rou paused, then caught on—this chicken must have the same effect as the eggs.

“No need, it’s a gift—saving a life matters more.”

With a few more words, Su Rou left.

“You said the chickens tore up the vegetables?”

“Yes, a huge section. The seedlings are ruined. Let’s pen the chickens up first.”

“Alright, let’s do it.”

They quickly assembled a makeshift chicken pen—sturdy enough for now, but it would need reinforcement later. He’d hoped to wait, but with the vegetables (and soon the herbs) at risk, it couldn’t be delayed.

Once the pen was done, they resumed spraying the orchard—sixty acres of jujube trees would take two full days to finish. Chicks had to be caught at dusk, otherwise they were impossible to catch.

They worked straight through until seven or eight in the evening before stopping. The medicinal herbs had all been planted. If the workers had arrived earlier, they’d have finished by noon; half a day would have sufficed.