Chapter 383 - The Livestock Farm

Zhang Youfu considered the problem for a while. "There's one approach, though somewhat troublesome—it won't be quick."

"As long as we get the land, I'm willing to wait." Wu Nanhai said. As long as it was completed before autumn.

"Then wait for my news." Zhang Youfu requested over two hundred taels of silver from Wu Nanhai, then circulated among the major farming plains near the county town. After ten-odd days of negotiations, he managed to purchase seventy mu of paddy land. He then used this deed to trade for the disputed plot.

Seeing the outcome, the Agricultural Committee members didn't know whether to laugh or cry. During negotiations, the transmigrator collective had offered two hundred taels of silver. If the landlord didn't want silver, the Committee had also proposed in-kind exchanges of equal value. The old man had rejected everything. Yet the moment someone offered a land deed, he'd agreed immediately. What logic was this?

"He simply wanted to remain a landlord. Now we're giving him landlord status—naturally he consented." Zhang Youfu looked rather pleased with himself.

"But we were willing to pay! He could have bought land with the money."

"The bumpkin hasn't seen the world—he was simply afraid of being cheated." Zhang Youfu said dismissively. Urban-rural differences ran quite deep.

"I see." Wu Nanhai nodded. Apparently this down-and-out local who'd survived as a county-town middleman possessed genuine talents after all.

"Traditional farmers' mentality is truly incomprehensible," Ye Yuming had exclaimed at the time.

"Past farmers hadn't seen the world, lacked education, were frequently cheated. High wariness is entirely normal. Rural work is indeed difficult."

To Zhang Youfu, what was more incomprehensible were these "cropped-head bandits" themselves. They possessed both power and influence—direct seizure wouldn't have troubled the landlord in the slightest. Even the county government would never offend the cropped-heads over such a pauper.

Such methods were simply called "winning hearts." But Zhang Youfu sensed something more complex lay beneath.

This land, acquired through considerable effort and cost, lay south of the farm. Here the Wenlan River formed a small backwater, creating a large shallow area thick with reeds. The terrain was flat, with rolling hills nearby, and water access was convenient. After surveying the site, Wu Nanhai and Yang Baogui agreed it suited a formal livestock facility admirably.

The new facility comprised two major sections: livestock and poultry. Wu Nanhai loved visiting here—not merely for work, but for the immense sense of accomplishment each visit brought. Especially after the circumnavigation voyage had opened additional resource acquisition channels. Bo-pu had established regular shipping to Changhua and Yulin. Large numbers of cattle and sheep from Changhua were rapidly expanding the breeding populations. Everyone's favorite meat—pork—had also increased substantially. By his estimate, next year the transmigrators could at least restore twenty-first-century cosmic-power national per-capita meat consumption standards.

Wu Nanhai first visited the horse corral. Yang Baogui had recently been learning to ride from Nick—he found his buttocks too sore from bicycle jolts on dirt roads, the seat pressing painfully on his perineum.

"I don't want prostate problems from cycling—I'm a married man." So Yang Baogui had taken up horseback riding for future outings. Nick had promised him a Yunnan pony—payment for treating the horses.

When Wu Nanhai came looking, Nick said Yang Baogui had gone to the poultry area to supervise hatching facility construction.

This large hatching facility was being built to support the Heaven and Earth Society's poultry promotion plan. Artificial egg incubation had appeared early in China and was widespread by Ming times—not exactly breakthrough transmigrator technology. But artificial incubation wasn't common in Lingao. Though chickens, ducks, and geese were the usual local poultry, farming scale was small—no one had developed such infrastructure.

Traditional artificial incubation methods varied considerably. Most common were northern kang-incubation and East China jar-incubation. Wu Nanhai hadn't trained in animal husbandry; he'd consulted Yang Baogui, who possessed extensive field experience serving farmers.

Yang Baogui recommended northern kang-incubation. This method used simple equipment with large capacity—very suitable for large-scale farming requirements. With skilled technique, hatch rates reached eighty to ninety percent, comparable to modern electric incubation. A standard seven-flue kang workshop could hold twenty-six hundred chicken eggs at once, hatching fifteen thousand monthly. Expansion was straightforward, requiring almost no modern equipment or materials. Adobe bricks' insulation actually suited hatcheries better than fired bricks.

When Wu Nanhai arrived at the construction site, Yang Baogui was directing the work. This new hatchery incorporated slight improvements: a tiled roof and brick-clad exterior walls—after all, in Lingao's climate, pure adobe structures wouldn't last long.

"Feels somewhat wasteful." Wu Nanhai regarded the crude building under construction. He worried where they'd find twenty-six hundred fertile eggs per batch. With eggs scarce and fertile embryos having brief storage life, collected fertile eggs were currently all naturally incubated by broody hens.

"It won't be wasteful. Rainy season always requires drying work—this hatchery can double as a drying room."

Yang Baogui reassured him: "The first batch being brooded now can provide about two hundred chicks—enough for twenty smallholders. Batch sizes will gradually increase. It's a gradual process. Consider how many chickens we had when we first arrived? Now over a hundred. Growth rate is several thousand percent. With mass mobilization, we may need expansion by year's end."

"Take me to see the henhouse."

"Certainly. Let me give them some instructions first." Yang Baogui inspected the construction site. The most critical kang flues were basically complete—this part was key. A well-built kang saved fuel and transmitted heat swiftly; a poorly constructed one neither heated nor drew smoke properly. A specialized craft. Lingao naturally had no kang builders—not even among immigrants. They worked entirely from books and blueprints. He gave instructions to the foreman, then led Wu Nanhai to the recently-completed henhouses.

The new henhouse still employed bamboo fence walls and fishing-net enclosures for free-range, with climbing vegetables providing shelter. The innovation lay in implementing separate housing. Breeding chickens were individually penned; layers, chicks, and growers each had their own designated spaces, mutually undisturbed, facilitating different feed additions according to condition. Finally there were the bronze turkeys—now expanded to about a dozen birds.

Around two hundred growers were active in the spacious area under the protective netting. They looked healthy. The ground had just been watered, smelling of lime.

"Daily scheduled manure cleaning, then lime-water disinfection. No choice—density remains high. Disease prevention is essential. Besides, chicken manure is also feed—can't waste it."

"We're not raising fish, are we?"

Chickens' short digestive tracts meant their droppings still contained significant nutrients. Wu Nanhai knew of circular agriculture systems that raised chickens by fishponds, using chicken manure to feed the fish.

"For pigs."

"Ugh, that's disgusting." The mere thought of chicken manure's stench killed Wu Nanhai's interest.

"After fermentation, pigs actually find it quite palatable." Yang Baogui smiled wryly. "Honestly, I don't favor this feeding method either. Once feed becomes plentiful, we'll simply use it as fertilizer."

Wu Nanhai followed him to the duck shelter. Ducks were actually more profitable than chickens in poultry operations. Ducks were omnivorous, capable of self-foraging while grazing, tolerating rough feed with high feed conversion efficiency. During spring's first rice planting, Fa Shilu had experimentally practiced paddy-duck integration—releasing ducks to forage in rice paddies. Not only could they consume field snails and small fish, but they also eliminated pests and weeds. Fa Shilu planned to drive ducks in after rice harvest to clear fallen grains and chaff—far more convenient and thorough than manual clearing. In Japan the practice had an elegant name: "duck method rice cultivation"—a retro-style natural rice farming technique.

The duck shelter stood by the river bend. Bamboo fencing separated the backwater from the main channel, with an openable gate to prevent ducks from wandering off. Reeds grew dense here; the river water was nutrient-rich. The riverbank supported abundant snails and other aquatic creatures that ducks loved. The Agricultural Committee had found a duck herder among the immigrants to take the flock out daily, also collecting snails and clams to crush for supplementary feed.

"Don't step carelessly." Yang Baogui warned him—especially avoid stepping in riverside grass. Ducks might have laid eggs anywhere in there; evenings the herder would patrol and collect eggs.

"We currently have over two hundred ducks, plus thirty-some geese. Ducks and geese require less feed than chickens—besides laying poultry needing protein supplements, most subsist on green feed. Egg production is decent as well. Also suitable for promotional farming."

The ducks were local varieties plus Beijing ducks brought from modern times. Yang Baogui planned to crossbreed them and observe results. As for geese—the transmigrators hadn't brought any since China's native goose breeds were recognized as excellent. He'd simply purchased several from the market—the common South China lion-head goose.

Wu Nanhai said: "Duck and goose farming requires water surfaces—raising conditions are constrained, not as easily promoted as chickens. Plus duck and goose eggs aren't popular. Everyone prefers chicken eggs. Who wants duck eggs unless they're preserved or salted? Have you ever had goose eggs?"

"I've had wine-fermented goose eggs—quite tasty." Yang Baogui recalled the memory fondly.

"Poultry at least grows fast. If only pigs could reproduce with such efficiency."

"Pig reproduction isn't actually bad. Sows can produce twenty piglets in two litters yearly. With proper care, survival rates are quite respectable." Yang Baogui said. "The biggest constraint is our shortage of sows."

(End of Chapter)