Chapter Fifty-Two: Returning the Favor

The night was tranquil, the countryside enveloped in a peace unknown to the bustling cities. They often say that those who work the land must endure solitude, but that's not entirely true. When a farmer takes the time to truly feel, he discovers that the surrounding scenery is utterly enchanting.

Zhong Di lay quietly on his bed, his mind drifting through countless thoughts, while the chirping of insects from the fields filled his ears. Among the chorus, a rhythmic thumping arose. Yusheng immediately lifted his head, pricked his ears, stared toward the door for a while, then lay back down.

"The yellow weasel must be here for the eggs again," Shao Hong muttered from the upper bunk. Since Zhong Di hadn’t been around last night, he’d been the one to place the eggs. By now, such occurrences had become routine.

"Yes, it's the yellow weasel. As long as it doesn’t harm the chickens, all is well," Zhong Di replied, confirming Yusheng’s suspicion. If it reacted like this, it was certainly the weasel.

Suddenly, the bleating of sheep pierced the night, and as moments passed, the chorus grew louder.

"The weasel wouldn’t go after the sheep, would it?" Zhong Di murmured, grabbing his flashlight and hurrying outside. Shao Hong scrambled down from the bunk, anxious.

"It's those wildcats from the other night—two of them," Shao Hong reported, following Zhong Di and gripping a stick. Even if they only stirred up trouble every few days, they always left the sheep distressed.

If the sheep’s growth was stunted, so was their income. That was intolerable. The weasel was a force to be reckoned with, but two wildcats were nothing to be afraid of.

"Don’t move. Wait a moment," Zhong Di whispered when the two wildcats appeared before them. He swiftly took out his phone and recorded a short video. Fearing he might scare them off, he left the flash off; fortunately, the moonlight was bright enough to make out their shapes.

After filming, he finally turned on the flash and snapped a photo. The "wildcats," startled by the sudden light, darted away.

"Zhong Di, what were you doing? You should have let me deal with them right away—they come here every night, frightening the sheep," Shao Hong complained after Zhong Di was done.

"Deal with them? You’d be fined for killing them, maybe even locked up," Zhong Di replied, scrolling through his phone and comparing the photos he'd just taken with those online. Sure enough, they matched perfectly—Pallas’s cats, no doubt about it.

"Locked up? Really? Are wildcats protected now?" Shao Hong asked, puzzled by Zhong Di’s grave expression.

Zhong Di handed over his phone for Shao Hong to see. "I can’t say for sure about jail, but this is definitely a Pallas’s cat, an endangered species. There might even be a population living nearby."

Seeing Shao Hong’s astonishment, Zhong Di continued, "The other day we only saw one, so it was hard to say. But now there are two—there’s definitely a group here. We just don’t know how large it is."

"So, does that mean this area might be designated a nature reserve in the future?"

"Who knows? That’s not for us to worry about—the authorities will decide. Let’s go back."

With that, Zhong Di returned to the small house.

"Wait, Zhong Di, look—what’s that?" Shao Hong’s gaze had fallen upon the spot where the eggs were usually placed. Perhaps because he’d been in charge of the eggs lately, he instinctively glanced over and spotted something unusual on the ground.

"There really is something. What is it?" The spot was shadowed, and it was impossible to tell from a distance.

Yusheng seemed to sense something as well, tiptoeing out. He’d grown quite plump lately.

A soft whimpering emerged as Yusheng crouched low, the animal’s instincts awakened by the unknown.

As the two men approached, they saw it was a dead hare, bite marks clear on its neck—a victim of some predator.

"It’s the yellow weasel," Shao Hong said hurriedly, spotting the creature nearby, observing them from a distance.

Zhong Di looked up, and there it was—the yellow weasel.

"Thank you," Zhong Di said, and with that, the weasel scurried away. How remarkable, he thought; it seemed to understand the principle of returning a favor, bringing a hare as a gift.

No wonder there were tales warning people not to provoke the yellow weasel—it was said to hold grudges, and now Zhong Di believed it. These creatures were truly clever.

In his memory, yellow weasels only stole chickens or caught mice; he’d never heard of them hunting hares. Chickens and hares were similar in size, sometimes the chicken even larger, but it was not the same. Chickens, blinded by darkness at night, were easy prey; hares were a different story.

Back inside, Zhong Di tossed the hare aside. He’d deal with it tomorrow—dry-fried, he decided.

Hare was best dry-fried. Unlike the tender meat of chicken, hare was tough and stringy, even when raised at home. Dry-frying suited it perfectly.

"Zhong Di, you’ve gotten strange lately—especially these days. I never noticed before," Shao Hong remarked, eyeing the hare with a peculiar look.

"Strange? Not at all. Two eyes, a nose, a mouth, two ears—just like everyone else," Zhong Di replied, momentarily taken aback. Had Shao Hong noticed something? He quickly reassured himself that his current abilities were undetectable, no matter how suspicious others became.

"Think about it. A single egg and you sell it for a hundred yuan per kilo, native chickens for three hundred—then there’s the yellow weasel who’s befriended you, and now those Pallas’s cats in your orchard. Isn’t that odd?"

"Oh, maybe I just have a natural affinity for plants and animals! Why do you think I did so well in school? While you all played in the mud as children, I was already studying plant forms," Zhong Di improvised, recounting his childhood. As long as he talked enough, he was confident he could convince Shao Hong. Even if Shao Hong suspected something, he’d have no proof.

"That makes sense... Let’s just get some sleep," Shao Hong said after a moment’s thought. There was no point in dwelling on it.

It was just like when he was young, wondering how Zhong Di could play with everyone else and still be at the top of the class.

In a world where the extraordinary is the norm, being ordinary is the real anomaly. Like the parable of waiting by a tree stump for a hare, if someone always found a hare that way, one day, when people denied it, he would find it strange.

Zhong Di breathed a sigh of relief and lay back on his bed. Only Shao Hong, through close contact, might discern a clue or two. As long as he managed Shao Hong, there’d be no other problems.

He opened Little Letter, ignored the trivial messages, and clicked on the contact labeled as the Forestry Bureau.

After a brief consideration, he sent the photos and video he’d just taken.

"I just recorded this tonight—there are two of them. I’m sure they’re Pallas’s cats. If there’s anything I can do, just let me know," he wrote.

Zhong Di was always willing to help within his abilities. He had no grand ambitions of saving the planet; he was content to do what he could. The appearance of Pallas’s cats meant the environment here was suitable for them—a sign of improving conditions.

Though Pallas’s cats naturally lived in these regions, excessive human activity could still have significant effects.

A short while later, he received a reply.

"Thank you, truly. We’ll come to investigate tomorrow. Once this is confirmed, we’ll make sure your name is mentioned in the news."

Zhong Di could sense the other party’s excitement, and he understood—he’d feel the same. There was nothing more gratifying than achieving something significant in your own field; at least, that was Zhong Di’s belief.

"No need for that. It’s my duty to contribute to Shache County," he replied.

The other sent a thumbs-up emoji, after which Zhong Di put his phone away.

Such phrases, though he seldom used them, were appropriate for these occasions. They might sound a bit formal, but in situations like this, nothing could be more fitting.

Unconsciously, Zhong Di drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Zhong Di rose as usual. By the time he got up, Shao Hong had already taken care of most chores.

To Shao Hong, since he couldn’t contribute much in terms of technique or sales, he devoted himself to these daily tasks.

Ten percent may not sound like much, but with their current profit model, earning a hundred thousand a year was easily within reach.

In most orchards, sixty acres would never yield such profits. Only Zhong Di’s did.

In Shache County, a hundred thousand yuan a year was a considerable sum. In major cities, it might be ordinary, but here, even fifty thousand marked a person as well-off.

With a good income, they threw themselves into their work wholeheartedly.

"We still need to get water and feed for the sheep," Shao Hong reminded him.

In the pen, the sheep bleated, clearly thirsty or hungry.

"Alright, you feed them first—I’ll bring the water in a bit. I want to check on the medicinal herbs in the shelterbelt," Zhong Di replied, heading toward the patch where he’d planted the Desert Immortal Sprout.

Entering the shelterbelt, he saw all sorts of seedlings sprouting—tender and lovely, with new grass shooting up among them. He’d left a path so there was no risk of stepping on the herbs.

After picking the Desert Immortal Sprout, Zhong Di returned and began processing it with other medicinal ingredients.

"Can I have some of that water you’re carrying?"

Just as Zhong Di was about to give water to the chickens, a voice sounded in his mind.

He glanced toward the source—it came from the spot where he’d temporarily placed his flowers.

He’d brought all the flowers from home, planning to build a greenhouse one day and keep them there. For now, they were under a makeshift shade—just enough to protect them, since most flowers couldn’t tolerate direct sunlight.

And the one communicating with him was the ailing bougainvillea.