Chapter 8: A Little Storm with Lemon Flavor
# Chapter 8: Small Storm Lemon Flavor
As the morning light barely crept over the bamboo trellises, Chen Wang was awakened by the ringing of his cell phone. Xiao Zhang, from the town's Culture and Tourism Office, spoke with a jolt of excitement: "Comrade Chen Wang! The tomato photos you posted last week went viral on our county's Culture and Tourism account! Many tourists are asking for directions to Qingxi Village, hoping to experience picking traditional varieties of the crop!"
Chen Wang sat up abruptly, parted the curtains, and looked—two tour buses parked beneath the old locust tree at the village entrance. Tourists crowded around Grandma Zhang, demanding, "Where can I find tomatoes with star-shaped patterns?" He hurriedly put on his shirt, buttoning one of the wrong buttons. As he rushed to the gate, he bumped into a gentle figure.
"What are you panicking about?" Lin Xiaoman's laughter was as refreshing as morning dew. In her hand, she clutched a curled-up notebook with a dried pear leaf stuck to the cover. "I just got a call from Xiao Zhang. He said he wants to help us organize a 'traditional crop picking experience'. It's a good opportunity to take advantage of this wave of popularity to promote the village's specialties."
"But we haven't prepared anything." Chen Wang scratched his head and glanced at the corner of the yard - the newly erected picking sign had not been painted yet, the bamboo baskets filled with fruits were piled in the corner, and not even a cup of water was boiled to entertain tourists.
Lin Xiaoman, however, was prepared. She pulled out a laminated flyer from her canvas bag. It contained a message titled "A Little Knowledge About Qingxi Village's Traditional Crops" and included simple drawings of tomatoes and strawberries. "I'll guide the tourists. Go pick some ripe tomatoes and strawberries for the display. Then, bring out those pots of scented lemons from the backyard—they just bore fruit last week, so it's a great time for everyone to smell them."
Watching her expertly hand out flyers to tourists, smilingly answering questions like "How do tomato lines come from?" and "How often do strawberries ripen?", Chen Wang's panic gradually dissipated. He hurried to the backyard. Just as he bent down to pick a bunch of bright red tomatoes, he spotted a scented lemon sapling in the corner. Three green-yellow fruits dangled among its emerald green leaves, their skin so smooth it reflected light spots. Up close, he could smell a refreshing fragrance, a bit sweeter than supermarket lemons.
"Perfect for making lemonade to treat tourists." Chen Wang carefully picked two apples and just as he turned to wash them at the well, he heard an argument at the gate. He ran out with the lemons in his hand, only to see the middle-aged man who had come to inspect earlier, frowning and saying to Lin Xiaoman in a stern tone, "How much money can you make from picking apples? Our company will lease your land to grow apples and triple the rent for the villagers. It's much more reliable!"
"Old-style crops are a specialty of our village and can boost cultural tourism. Tourists come here not only to pick fruits, but also to stay in B&Bs and buy local specialties. In the long run, it's better than growing apples." Lin Xiaoman tightened his grip on the flyer, his knuckles turning white, but he didn't step back. "Besides, what to plant is decided by the villagers together, and you can't change it with just a word."
The middle-aged man sneered, his eyes swept over the onlookers, and his voice was deliberately raised: "I think these people are just looking for novelty. They come here once at most. In two months, your garden will be deserted, right?" After saying this, he turned around and got into the car parked on the side of the road. The exhaust gas swept across the dandelions on the roadside, blowing away a cloud of fluff.
The tourists' interest had waned noticeably. Some murmured, "Is it really not going to last?" as they left one after another, empty baskets in hand. Lin Xiaoman watched their backs, her shoulders slumping slightly. The light in her eyes dimmed like a candle extinguished by the wind.
Chen Wang hurried over, holding a cup of freshly brewed lemonade with a piece of lemon peel on the rim of the cup: "Don't be angry, drink some water slowly." When handing her the cup, his fingertips accidentally touched the back of her hand, as if touching warm cotton, and then quickly retracted.
Lin Xiaoman took the cup, took a sip, and suddenly frowned: "It's so sour..."
Chen Wang was stunned. He took a sip himself—it was so sour that he squinted his eyes and his tongue went numb. It was clearly a scented lemon, and it had smelled sweet just last week. Why was it suddenly so sour? He looked back at the lemon saplings in the backyard. The leaves were drooping and curled up, and even the fruit had darkened to a dull yellow, as if troubled.
"Maybe it's because there were too many people around and it disturbed us, so we didn't take good care of it." Chen Wang walked over and gently watered the lemon seedling with some well water. His fingertips brushed across the curled leaves, and his tone softened, "Let's loosen the soil later, and it will definitely be sweet." He spoke as if to Lemon, but also as if to Lin Xiaoman.
Lin Xiaoman came over, squatted beside him, looked at the lemon seedlings and said softly: "I'm not afraid of not making money, I'm afraid... I'm afraid of disappointing everyone's expectations and your intention of coming back to plant these." Her voice trembled a little, and there was a faint red at the corners of her eyes.
Chen Wang's heartbeat suddenly slowed. He hesitated for a moment, then gently touched her arm. "This isn't just about you; it's about us all." He recalled his previous experience in operations, and his eyes lit up. "We can create unique cultural and creative products! We can make dried tomatoes into flower specimens, boil strawberries into jam and store them in ceramic jars, and take some photos of our daily farming routine and post them online. That's sure to keep tourists coming back."
"Yes!" Lin Xiaoman suddenly raised her head, the light in her eyes brightened again, "My grandfather used to make handmade soap with pear residue, we can also try to use tomato juice and lemon juice! I will contact the county cultural and tourism bureau and ask if there are any cultural and creative subsidies!" She took out her mobile phone, typing quickly with her fingertips, and the curve of her mouth slowly stretched out, like a crescent moon after the rain.
Just as they were about to head to the village committee, Grandma Zhang came running over, carrying a bamboo basket. She gasped and waved her hands, "Xiao Wang, Xiao Man! This is bad! The boss just went to Uncle Li's house and said he wanted to sign a separate contract with him. He also said he'd give more subsidies to anyone who cooperated with him!"
Chen Wang and Lin Xiaoman exchanged a glance and sprinted toward Uncle Li's house. As they passed the ridge of a field, Wangfu suddenly caught up with something in his mouth—a cloth Lin Xiaoman had left in the backyard, with a small pear leaf pattern printed on it. Lin Xiaoman bent down to take it, brushing Wangfu's ear with her fingertips. Suddenly, she felt a little more at ease: "Look, even Wangfu is helping us."
When we arrived at Uncle Li's house, the middle-aged man was stuffing a contract into Uncle Li's hands. "Old Li, just sign it. I'll give you 20% more rent than others. You can worry less about growing apples, and you don't have to deal with these nonsense cultural and creative things."
"Uncle Li, don't rush to sign!" Chen Wang hurried in and handed over the creative sketch he had just drawn. "Look, let's make tomato specimens and put strawberry jam in our village pottery jars. Tourists will not only pick the fruits but also buy these souvenirs. The income will be much higher than growing apples!"
Lin Xiaoman also took out her phone and clicked on the email she had just received. "This is a reply from the County Cultural and Tourism Bureau. They said that our traditional crop cultural and creative products meet the subsidy policy and have passed the preliminary review. They can also help us promote them on the provincial cultural and tourism platform!" She handed the phone to Uncle Li, her tone full of confidence, "We can definitely make it with our own unique characteristics!"
Uncle Li looked at the sketch, then at the middle-aged man. After a moment's hesitation, he pushed the contract back. "I still trust Xiaoman and Xiaowang. These old varieties are the roots of our village, and we can't lose them. Working on cultural and creative products may be tiring, but it gives me peace of mind." Several villagers watching nearby nodded in agreement. "We'll join in the cultural and creative endeavors, too! We won't follow him in growing apples!"
Seeing this, the middle-aged man put away the contract with a grim face, slammed the door and left.
After the storm subsided, the two of them walked slowly back to the orchard. Chen Wang suddenly stopped and said, "Smell it." Lin Xiaoman sniffed—there was a faint lemon scent in the air, not the sour smell from before, but a refreshing sweetness.
The lemon saplings in the backyard had indeed perked up, their leaves unfurling and the fruits returning to their vibrant yellow. Chen Wang plucked one and made a glass of lemonade. This time, when he handed it to Lin Xiaoman, he added a spoonful of honey: "Try it. It's not sour this time."
Lin Xiaoman took a sip, her eyes curved: "It's sweet, and has a nice fragrance."
Sunlight streamed through the grapevine, falling at their feet in tiny specks of light. Chen Wang brought over two bamboo chairs, and they sat side by side, lemonade in hand, chatting away as they planned—the tomato specimens would be paired with pear leaves, the strawberry jam would be printed with an old locust tree pattern, and the handmade soap would be shaped like a cherry tomato. Wangfu lay beside them, his head resting at Lin Xiaoman's feet, his tail wagging gently.
The wind blows through the orchard; the tomato leaves sway gently; the lemon fragrance drifts far away, and even the air is filled with a soft and ambiguous smell, like freshly brewed lemonade, with just the right sweet and sour taste.
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