Although Han Qi is silly, old-fashioned, unreliable, spendthrift, and simple-minded, he is sincere, and that's enough.
It is my good fortune to have someone who gives me their complete trust without reservation.
"No, I can't let you suffer a loss."
“I didn’t lose out,” Jiang Nuan explained, twitching her lips. “It’s a small matter, don’t worry about it.”
Upon hearing this, Han Qi did not believe it, but he did not refute it.
He knew he couldn't win against Jiang Nuan.
These past few days, he has painfully discovered that when Jiang Nuan gets serious, no one can do anything about her.
I had a toothache the day before yesterday because I ate too much chestnut cake, and because of that, chestnut cake has never been eaten in our house since.
No matter how hard he tried, it was no use. He strangely discovered that this girl was exactly like his deceased father in this respect—both were heartless.
"Alright, I won't mention money anymore."
Although Han Qi said that, he decided to buy more things and send them over later, so that Jiang Nuan would not suffer any loss.
Jiang Nuan was unaware of Han Qi's thoughts. After transplanting the plum blossoms to the corner of the wall, she moved the table next to them as well.
Smelling the fragrance of plum blossoms, sipping tea, and occasionally popping a piece of red bean cake into your mouth, you feel relaxed and content.
Just as she was enjoying herself, she heard her second son's voice from outside the door, "Wife, get me a sickle."
"Sigh, I'll go find it right away."
"Second brother," Jiang Nuan asked in confusion, "what do you need a sickle for?"
Cutting grass to feed Xiao Liu?
Based on Jiang Nuan's understanding of her second son, there was absolutely no possibility.
But for other tasks, a sickle is not needed at all.
"Mom, everyone in the village has gone to cut wheat seedlings, I want to go too."
“Cut the wheat seedlings,” Jiang Nuan nodded. “Go ahead, I’ve been saying for a while that our wheat seedlings are too dense.”
Perhaps worried about the survival rate, Jiang Nuan noticed that the wheat seedlings in Huangjiakou were generally too dense. She had previously suggested pulling some down to feed the pigs, but the three brothers were very stubborn about it and refused to agree.
They say that this is how our ancestors have always planted crops; if the soil is too sparse, we won't be able to harvest any grain and won't be able to fill our stomachs.
This wasn't a big deal, and Jiang Nuan didn't insist. After all, the harvest would be in two months, and even if they were pulled out now, it wouldn't be any better. It would be better to wait until the wheat was planted in the fall to correct them.
Who would have thought that the second child would come to his senses today? It's really strange.
“It’s not because of that,” Huang Lao Er pushed open the door and walked in. “Red spider mites have appeared in the field. If we don’t cut down the wheat seedlings that are infested with insects, the seedlings in the whole field will be eaten up, and we won’t be able to harvest any grain at all.”
This year is already considered late; in previous years, spider mites would appear as early as February.
"Red spiders?" Jiang Nuan sat up. "You want to cut down all the wheat seedlings that are infested with insects to prevent the red spiders from crawling onto the good seedlings?"
“Yes,” Huang Lao Er nodded, “This is a method passed down from our ancestors, and it works very well.”
Upon hearing this, Jiang Nuan was stunned.
There are people who treat spider mites like this, that's really... ingenious!
Spider mites, scientifically known as spider mites, reproduce rapidly and cause great damage. If not treated in time, they can make a year's work go to waste. Even if it doesn't result in a complete crop failure, it will still significantly reduce yields.
No wonder the wheat seedlings are planted so densely. Just one spider mite can destroy a third of the seedlings. Every time a spider mite appears, the wheat seedlings have to be cut off. If they are planted too sparsely, there simply won't be enough.
So, I didn't know that sowing more seeds could have this effect. I've learned something new.
Cough cough...
Clearing her throat, Jiang Nuan said, "Don't harm the wheat seedlings, I have a way to deal with it."
"Mother, you have a way?" Huang Lao Er asked incredulously, "A way to get rid of the red spiders?"
There's an old saying that life has three hardships: blacksmithing, ferrying, and grinding tofu.
However, Huang Lao Er felt that none of these hardships were as tough as farming.
They work hard, but at least they can earn some money and have some hope. Farming is not like that.
Land preparation, sowing, weeding, pest control, watering, harvesting... if any link in the process goes wrong, the grain will not be harvested.
Buried in the ground all year round, you can't relax for a moment. If you don't treat the land like an ancestor, it will bully you like a grandson.
That's not all. If the harvest is bad, and there's a drought or flood, even if you treat it like an emperor, it won't help. It won't give you anything less than what you deserve, or even a little more.
Red spider mites are definitely the number one enemy of farmers. If left untreated for a few days, a whole area will die. Only when there is absolutely no other way can farmers cut down the wheat seedlings. Otherwise, who would be willing to do that?
The wheat seedlings are just beginning to form ears; they'll be ready for harvest soon. Cutting them down is heartbreaking, but if we don't, large swaths of crops will die, and the land will be awash in blood.
“Yes,” Jiang Nuan asked in confusion, “We cut wheat seedlings to treat spider mites, but what about aphids?”
“Same here,” Huang Lao Er said dejectedly, “If you don’t mow the land, the whole plot will get infested with worms.”
“Okay,” Jiang Nuan nodded and gave her a solution: “Go to the pharmacy and buy five catties of dried tangerine peel, add two buckets of water, soak it for a day and a night, and then spray the water on the wheat seedlings.”
This is a traditional method for treating spider mites. It's certainly not as effective as using pesticides, but it avoids the counterproductive act of cutting down wheat seedlings.
There are other methods, such as spraying chili water or Sichuan pepper water, but chili water is pungent and Sichuan pepper is too expensive. After careful consideration, Jiang Nuan chose orange peel.
"Jiang Meizi, is this useful?" Han Qi asked with interest.
"Yes, I'm 90% sure."
The remaining 10% is for unforeseen circumstances, just in case.
“Really,” Huang Lao Er laughed happily, “I’ll go buy some right now, and once it’s soaked, I’ll put it in the wheat field.”
"Shu?"
Startled for a moment, Jiang Nuan realized that there was no sprayer available.
The principle of the original sprayer is very simple: Bernoulli's principle. In a fluid, a high velocity results in low pressure, and a low velocity results in high pressure. Fluids will automatically flow from high pressure to low pressure. When passing through a three-way pipe, the slow-moving water flows towards the fast-moving air.
However, it's simply impossible to do at this stage.
While we can overcome some challenges in terms of materials, as carpenters are generally highly skilled, some modern techniques are not so easy to master, such as the soft pads that have an atomizing effect.
Although sprayers are difficult to make, shower heads are very simple, and it's better than carrying a bucket to spray water, isn't it?
"Well, I'll also go find a carpenter to make something," Jiang Nuan said, then went back to her room, took out paper and pen, and drew the shape of a showerhead.
Upon seeing the blueprints, Huang Lao Er cautiously suggested, "Mother, it would be better to have the teapot made at the blacksmith's shop."
What a strange teapot! Why does the spout have an extra "butt"?
"This is not a teapot."
"What is it?" Han Qi asked curiously, leaning closer. "It looks like it's for holding water."
"It's for holding water, but it's not a teapot. The water it sprays is very fine, which is much better than using your hands to spray medicine."
"I see," Han Qi still didn't quite understand, but he refused to admit it and instead solemnly agreed, "It's much better indeed."
"I see," Huang Lao Er said, not quite understanding either. "Mother, how many should we make?"
“Four,” Jiang Nuan said thoughtfully. “We’ll keep two for ourselves, send one to your grandma and one to your maternal grandma.”
“Five,” Han Qi said impatiently, “I want one too.”
"What do you need this for?" Jiang Nuan looked at Han Qi speechlessly. "Does your family farm too?"
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