The team leaders either held their noses and tried to hold on, or looked confident, as if the per-acre yield of their village was really that high.

"Maybe it's because your land is so fertile, our Zhangzhuang's output can't compare with yours.

From planting to harvesting, we didn't dare to slack off even a little bit and carefully tended to the crops, but the yield per mu only reached 600 kilograms."

After Zhang Xiangyang stood up and reported the production volume, the entire meeting room fell silent.

"Captain Zhang, please think it over before reporting."

The smile on Qiu Huiyong's face froze instantly and his expression turned cold.

This Zhang Xiangyang is so rude. The production he reported is much lower than others. Doesn’t this disrupt the rhythm?

The leaders of the army are here today. Aren’t you slapping the face of the commune?

"Director Qiu, there's no need to think about it. How much grain our land has produced? How could I, the team leader, not know this?

No one with hair wants to be bald. I want to harvest more grain and pay more to the government more than anyone else. Don't I know that paying more to the government is glorious?

Zhang Xiangyang smiled bitterly and said helplessly.

"Young comrade, please don't be impatient. I have something to ask Secretary Li."

Zhang Xiangnan asked Qiu Huiyong to stay calm and looked at Li Huimin.

"Secretary Li, the production volume reported by my cousin is significantly lower than that of other team leaders. What do you think went wrong?

Do you think the production figures reported by everyone are inflated, or is it that my cousin is concealing his production figures because he doesn't want to pay more for public grain?

Zhang Xiangnan was neither anxious nor impatient and was smiling, but Li Huimin was on pins and needles, sweating profusely, and didn't know how to answer for a moment.