Chapter 395 - Agricultural Technician Wan Lihui

Wan Lihui thought Fu Buer was truly a model supporter of the transmigrator collective—Ding-Ding should really publicize this. Noticing the girl was quite tall, and though her skin was very dark, it looked lustrous. His heart stirred slightly. Making conversation, he asked:

"What was your master's wife muttering about?"

"Nothing nice of course." Fu Xi covered her mouth, giggling. "Said you're just a hired hand, and the master giving you such a nice room means he's gone crazy."

Being called a hired hand—Wan Lihui could only smile wryly. In a way, wasn't he basically a hired hand at the Agricultural Committee too?

"The master's wife is like that." Fu Xi glanced toward the door. "Master gets pestered until he can't stand it, then beats his wife. Hehe. Good beating."

Apparently Fu Buer's wife normally treated household servants harshly—no sympathy for her.

"This is the Chief's luggage? I'll help organize."

"Hey, no need—"

"It's fine." Fu Xi helped unpack his luggage, spread his sleeping bag, arranged the tea mug, toothbrush, and towel neatly. She fetched a wooden basin, poured hot water, and helped wring a towel for face-washing. At twenty-two, Wan Lihui had never had any girl care for him so attentively—he felt flattered and uncomfortable.

"We know you all like cleanliness." Fu Xi smiled. "Clothes worn just a few days need changing. The master ordered a bathing tub made."

While she was busy, Fu Buer arrived. His face was ashen—beating one's wife wasn't pleasant. Besides, though his wife took beatings, she never admitted defeat verbally—so Fu Buer's ancestors were all insulted.

Additionally, he still felt uneasy about joining the Heaven and Earth Society, fearing his wife's bad predictions always came true.

"Is Chief Wan satisfied with the accommodations?" Fu Buer forced a smile.

"Very good, very good." Wan Lihui, seeing his grim expression, answered carefully.

"Bring tea!"

The two sat facing each other in silence. Fu Buer couldn't speak Mandarin; Wan Lihui's Lingao dialect was poor. They waited for Fu Xi to translate.

Fu Buer's main concern was seeds. He saw Wan Lihui had come alone with just a large pack—seeds for over a hundred mu couldn't be carried this way.

"Rest assured, Mr. Fu. Our Society practices unified seedling cultivation and unified delivery."

Seedling cultivation was an important stage in rice planting, involving temperature management and seed-bed fertilizer technical issues.

After discussion, Agricultural Committee technicians concluded that for rice-rice-wheat rotation in this time-space's insufficient accumulated temperature, they had to use artificial warming for germination and seedling cultivation, transplanting immediately when temperatures became adequate. Artificial warming wasn't new—Jiangnan farmers had long used this method. To ensure quality, the Society decided on unified cultivation in farm nurseries, then centralized delivery.

Fu Buer thought these Australians were truly cunning—probably guarding against seed theft. But come harvest, with grain everywhere, they couldn't watch it all.

Wan Lihui asked detailed questions about Fu Buer's household—how many people, how many oxen. His questions made Fu Buer's heart pound—was this investigation before "butchering pigs"? But he couldn't easily lie. So he reported truthfully.

Fu Buer's land was entirely self-farmed, no tenants. Workers included himself, his wife, two sons and one daughter, several servants plus one hired hand. During busy seasons, they hired temporary workers. Besides rice, they grew sweet potatoes—introduced from the mainland just a few years ago. Also various grains: sesame, peanuts, soybeans, mung beans. Plus garden vegetables—mainly for consumption and feeding pigs.

Land yields were limited. Whether rice or sweet potatoes, yields were low. The whole household worked dawn to midnight, yet a year's work merely meant eating their fill with slight savings. Even these savings had to be preserved—Lingao was plagued by minor disasters: drought, flooding, bandits, government excess levies. He'd tried mainland methods: growing indigo, madder, tobacco, sugarcane. All ventures failed.

After D-Day, thanks to transmigrators' hearty appetites, Meiyang Village had sold large quantities of vegetables and livestock to Quanfu Vegetable Company—and Fu Buer's household finally improved. Now he'd added another ox.

Wan Lihui wanted to inspect the fields. Fu Buer, seeing he had no airs—wanting to inspect immediately after one drink—felt embarrassed, saying it was late and raining. Better rest today.

Wan Lihui checked his watch—only just past 2 PM. This counted as late? He insisted on looking around. Fu Buer sent his head hired hand to accompany him.

The moment they left, they became a procession. A crowd of curious people followed, pointing and commenting. In remote countryside without entertainment, gawking at outsiders was traditional leisure.

The Fu family's land wasn't contiguous. It had been gradually acquired over four generations through clearing, purchase, and usury—scattered in seven or eight locations. Some plots were just one mu of vegetable gardens; others were several dozen mu of large paddy fields. The paddies' first-crop rice had just been harvested, now lying empty.

"If only the land were connected." Wan Lihui thought. Such fragmented land—how could agricultural modernization work? He examined the crops, squatted at field's edge, and studied the soil for a long time.

"Do you fertilize here?"

"Yes, we fertilize." Mainly latrine pit and pigsty manure.

"Apply bean cake?"

Fu Buer said locally there was no soybean oil-pressing habit. Oil-pressing mainly used sesame and rapeseed. Leftover cake went to pigs.

"Not enough fertilizer." Wan Lihui shook his head. Your fields are severely fertilizer-deficient, especially nitrogen. Just applying fertilizer would yield much higher production.

Fu Buer understood that land lacked fertilizer and soil fertility was insufficient.

"I know it's not enough, but fertilizer is hard to find."

In ancient times, everything depended on farm manure. Farm manure sounds eco-friendly, but effective components were minimal. 1,000 jin of human waste's nitrogen content equaled only 25 jin of ammonium sulfate. Farmers spent enormous effort collecting fertilizer. For densely-populated areas, sources were plentiful. But Lingao's urban population was tiny.

Wan Lihui recalled Wu Nanhai had dispatched people everywhere investigating fertilizer sources. He wondered how Nanbao's lignite development was progressing.

Overall assessment: Fu Buer's land's basic problem was substantial soil fertility depletion. Annual double-crop rice with limited fertilization, plus no green manure cultivation, caused persistent low yields. This wasn't isolated—during surveys, they rarely found land with healthy crop growth.

Fu Buer was troubled too, but the problem wasn't easily solved. Organic fertilizer had low fertility, required large quantities, and needed local sourcing.

After surveying various plots, Wan Lihui mentally drafted a plan.

He proposed: this year's late rice acreage should be reduced by half, planting only fields with better fertility. Other fields should be drained and switched to broad beans.

Planting legumes aimed to fix nitrogen. Currently the Society couldn't supply large quantities of nitrogen fertilizer; they could only use this method.

After broad bean harvest, he planned planting alfalfa as green manure. Alfalfa could be cut several times; harvested stems served as fodder or compost. Remaining portions would be tilled under in spring.

Fu Buer heard this technician wanted him to fallow half his land for broad beans—he shook his head vigorously. Wouldn't this mean losing half his harvest?

"The broad beans you grow—we'll buy them all."

Legumes were urgent agricultural products—whether for cafeteria supply, horse feed, or food processing.

Fu Buer fell silent. Wan Lihui continued: Society rice seeds could double yields—wouldn't these broad beans be extra income? Product outlets weren't concerning—the Committee would purchase them.

Puff puff—Fu Buer just smoked his water pipe. Wan Lihui grew anxious:

"You understand the policy! When has our transmigrator collective broken its word? This only has benefits!"

These words had miraculous effect. Fu Buer had prisoner-camp experience. Whoever "didn't understand" would be dragged out to circle the bonfire until they "understood."

Under dictatorship's coercion, Fu Buer agreed. But he weakly requested: the Society must sign a written document guaranteeing purchase.

"No problem. However much you have, we'll buy it all." Wan Lihui readily agreed. Broad beans had many uses—vegetables, concentrated feed, plus shells were excellent nitrogen fertilizer sources.

That night Fu Buer and his wife fought again. Wan Lihui thought this wife was practically his nemesis, opposing him on everything.

Next morning, Fu Buer assembled the household. Wan Lihui was fortunate to see Fu Buer's wife—a dark, thin middle-aged woman wearing homespun clothes. Nothing like the legendary white, plump landlord's wife. She looked at Wan Lihui with guarded, suspicious, hostile eyes.

The Fu family's three children seemed friendlier. The girl was eldest, probably sixteen or seventeen. The two boys were around ten. Their appearances were no different from servants.

Wan Lihui exchanged pleasantries, then began assigning tasks. First: composting.

"Starting today, except for plowing personnel, everyone prepares fertilizer."

"Good." Fu Buer was glad to hear about new fertilizer methods. He and the hired hands would plow; he assigned Fu Qing, Fu Xiang, Fu Xi, and his own three children to Wan Lihui.

Wan Lihui led the six teenagers outside the village to cut grass. Vast wasteland grew thick with various wild grasses. He instructed: cut as much as possible, prioritizing bright green, juicy, soft stems and leaves. The teenagers quickly mowed large swaths.

Wan Lihui noticed the two girls worked quickly but frequently stopped to search the ground. Curious, he looked closer—they were gathering wild greens. Half a basket accumulated. He wondered: this landlord family had their own vegetable garden, yet girls gathered wild greens? How stingy!

After cutting, he led Fu Buer's eldest son and Fu Xi to the stream outside the village. Both Meiyang Village's drinking water source and sewage outlet. Water was greenish, banks thick with reeds, emitting waves of stench.

"This river really stinks!" Wan Lihui frowned. Theoretically ancient rivers weren't severely polluted. But now he needed the smellier the better.

Per his instructions, they fetched manure scoops and tools from the threshing ground. Everyone scooped river mud and weeds from the bottom. This novel activity drew spectators—river-mud composting was unknown locally.

Black, foul-smelling mud was piled on the bank. After partial drainage, it was tossed into baskets, carried load by load to Fu Buer's field edges. Wan Lihui appreciated ancients' hard work—Fu Buer's daughter and Fu Xi carried loads no lighter than the boys. Loads he himself absolutely couldn't carry.

"Good, next step is cleaning." Wan Lihui brought out brooms, giving everyone a basket.

"Go to the village—wherever you see garbage on streets or roadsides, except for broken bricks and tiles, collect everything."

Everyone looked at each other—why sweep streets? Could garbage be fertilizer?

Thus these teenagers, under Wan Lihui's direction, swept and collected garbage throughout the village, causing a sensation. Some made cutting jokes about Fu Buer. Others felt the Australian was doing public service.

Wan Lihui had noticed much garbage—piles almost everywhere. This garbage couldn't be directly used but after composting could become decent base fertilizer.

Various garbage filled baskets: old straw, chicken feathers, broken baskets, worn-out sandals, collapsed wooden tubs...

"Chief Wan, is this stuff for fertilizer?" Fu Xi finally asked.

"Correct."

Fu Xi didn't ask further. Wan Lihui volunteered to explain organic matter, bacterial decomposition, why this couldn't directly serve as fertilizer... fully indoctrinating Fu Xi on fertilizer principles. Not from desire to cultivate the next generation, but because this allowed him to legitimately talk with her while collecting admiring gazes.

(End of Chapter)