Chapter 258 Spring Ploughing
In the warm spring sunshine, a gentle breeze swept through Jishui Village, and the land, frozen all winter, finally softened.
As the snow melts away, the moist brown soil beneath is revealed, and the air is filled with the unique sweet and earthy scent of soil and the freshness of new buds.
The best time to plan for the year is in spring, and the best time to plan for the day is in the morning.
The annual spring plowing has begun.
Before the morning mist had even dissipated, the villagers of Jishui Village, carrying hoes and leading their old oxen, were already carving deep furrows in the newly thawed black soil.
The men led the way, urging the oxen to plow the land, their feet sinking deep into the mud, while the women followed behind, squatting down to sow the carefully selected seeds one by one.
Sister-in-law Zhao and several other women squatted on the ground, clutching cotton seeds in their hands, spreading them evenly along the furrows, humming a tune for spring plowing:
"Sow cotton seeds at the Spring Equinox, sprout them at Grain Rain, harvest cotton bolls at Grain in Ear, and warm your body at Frost's Descent..."
In the fields, one can see figures bending over and working everywhere, their sweat dripping onto the land that nurtures life.
Grandpa Zhao is one of the busiest people in the village. He is very experienced and will go over to give advice to anyone who plows their land at the wrong depth or whose seeds are not plump enough. He is highly respected.
Jiang Ling had never seen what "spring plowing" looked like.
Occasionally, scenes from television would float into my mind: advanced agricultural machines roaring across vast fields, drones precisely spraying pesticides from the air, and seeds grown in greenhouses sprouting and being precisely fed into small pits.
But what is this era like?
Driven by curiosity, he asked Xiaoran to look after the shop.
Carrying a bamboo basket filled with freshly baked sesame cakes, she walked along the ridges deeper into the fields, partly to provide food for the villagers, and partly to broaden her horizons.
Jiang Ling walked to the edge of the field. In the vast expanse of land that stretched before her eyes, there was no roar of machinery, no drones sowing seeds in the air, only figures facing the yellow earth with their backs to the sky.
And there were old oxen pulling plows, struggling to walk through the fields.
It turns out that every piece of land in the field had to be turned over and broken up, every seed had to be planted by bending over again and again, and every ladle of water had to be carried from the river.
Seeing the villagers covered in sweat, she suddenly realized that in this era, being able to have a full meal is really not an easy thing.
"Miss Jiang, you're here!" Old Zhao was sitting on a rock by the field, holding a ceramic bowl and drinking hot porridge. He smiled and waved when he saw Jiang Ling.
"Sit down for a while. The ground has just thawed and it's soft to walk on. Don't slip and fall."
Jiang Ling snapped out of her daze, quickly walked a few steps, handed over the bamboo basket, and took out the warm sesame cakes inside to distribute to the nearby villagers:
"Uncle Zhao, fellow villagers, you've all worked hard. I just made some sesame pancakes, they're still warm. Have a bite to eat and take a break before you get back to work."
Grandpa Zhao didn't refuse, took the cake, and took a big bite, the aroma of sesame spreading in his mouth.
He glanced at the basket and saw that it contained enough weight, then called over the villagers who were working to come and rest.
The villagers didn't stand on ceremony; they dusted off their hands and gathered around.
"Thank you, Miss Jiang!"
"Miss Jiang brought us food again."
"These sesame cakes smell delicious! They're much better than the ones my wife makes!"
A man chuckled憨厚ly, which drew a reproachful glare from a woman beside him, and the crowd burst into laughter.
As he chewed on his flatbread, Grandpa Zhao said with emotion, "Yes, last year was a bad year, with a famine. We were so grateful to Miss Jiang for regularly providing us with grain and cloth, otherwise our village would have gone hungry during the New Year. This spring, the land is in good condition, so we must seize the opportunity and cultivate it well! We're just hoping for good weather and a bountiful harvest in the fall, so that everyone can have a good life!"
"Uncle Zhao is right! This year is sure to be a good harvest!" Everyone agreed.
Just then, a young villager walked over, holding several thick, hard, sharp thorns in his hand:
"Uncle Zhao, look at this, I just found it in the field."
Grandpa Zhao took it and examined it carefully, his expression gradually becoming serious.
Those thorns were about the length of a little finger, dark brown, and as hard as needles.
He placed the thorns in his palm, brought them close to his eyes to examine them carefully, pinched them with his fingers, and even smelled them under his nose.
"This isn't a porcupine quill." He held up the quill and showed it to everyone.
"Porcupine quills aren't this thick, and the base doesn't smell like this. This is more like... the bristles that fell off a wild boar while it was rubbing against a tree, and it even has a slightly fishy smell."
He paused, looked around at the villagers present, and quickly gave the instructions:
“Everyone be on your guard! It’s just the beginning of spring, and the creatures on the mountain have been starving all winter, so they’re at their fiercest and will come down from the mountain in search of food. Judging by the thickness of its bristles, it’s probably quite a big one. Just a few days ago, Hunter Wang said that there were fewer rabbits and pheasants in the mountains, probably because some big ones have come down to find food.”
Grandpa Zhao's words instantly added a touch of tension to the previously relaxed atmosphere, and the smile on his face disappeared.
"Uncle Zhao, are there really big guys coming down the mountain?" a woman asked worriedly.
"It's always good to be on guard. Lately, especially women and children, try to walk in groups to and from work, and don't go out alone. Those houses near the foot of the mountain, make sure your fences are secure at night, and don't come out rashly if you hear any noise!"
Grandpa Zhao held the porcupine quill in his hand and weighed it in his hand.
"These things are ferocious; a maddened wild boar can kill a cow. They have thick hides and are difficult to handle even with a hoe."
The smiles on the villagers' faces faded, and they exchanged worried glances.
"Understood, Uncle Zhao!"
"I'll sharpen the wood-chopping knife at home later."
"I need to be very careful with the kids at home, they can't run down the mountain."
Jiang Ling also began to worry. Wild boars coming down the mountain is no joke. Wild boars can weigh up to 400 kilograms, and their attack power can knock animals of the same weight flying.
In particular, the biting force of those fangs can directly cause fatal injuries.
Moreover, wild boars have the ability to attack proactively, and encounters with them are extremely dangerous.
In ancient times, when villagers had limited tools, defending against wild boars was no less than a fierce battle.
In the distance, the old ox was still tirelessly pulling the plow, and the newly turned soil glistened with moisture in the sunlight.
Spring plowing is still ongoing.
Just then, Xiao Yi came over and said that Brother Ji had arrived.
Jiang Ling remembered that today was the day Ji Wensheng had agreed to retrieve the floral water for the second time, and perhaps he could bring back news about Hongxiu.
Grandpa Zhao said, "Miss Jiang has guests, so hurry up and get back to work. Your shop is close to the mountains, and you're a young woman with two teenagers, so you need to be extra careful at night. If anything happens, remember to shout for help."
"Okay, I will be careful."
Jiang Ling nodded, packed her things, and headed towards the shop.
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