Chapter 185: The Fu Bu'er Family

Having a girl admire him was nice, but the work still had to be done. After a full day of toil, a large amount of various composting materials had been piled up on Fu Bu’er’s land.

Wan Lihui already had ample experience with composting and fermentation. He directed everyone to crush the miscellaneous garbage they had collected, mix it with the river mud, aquatic plants, and cut green grass, and then add more than ten buckets of feces and urine from Fu Bu’er’s latrine. Everything was mixed together, piled up, and then sealed with mud. As long as it was turned regularly to maintain sufficient moisture, the compost would be ready in six or seven months—just in time for applying base fertilizer for the next year’s spring plowing.

“The compost needs to have sufficient moisture, otherwise it won’t decompose easily,” Wan Lihui explained the technical points to Fu Xi one by one: at the beginning of composting, the pile should be loose. When the temperature of the compost rises, it should be compacted. The moisture content of the compost also needed to be checked at all times. He taught her a simple method: stick a dry wooden stick deep into the compost pile. If the stick is moist when pulled out after a short while, it means the moisture is just right. Otherwise, water needs to be sprinkled to keep it moist.

“…But not too much water. If you see dark, smelly water flowing out from the bottom of the compost pile, it means there’s too much water.”

It was the rainy season in Lincheng now, with rain almost every two or three days. Wan Lihui had them fetch bamboo poles and straw to build a rain shelter for the compost pile.

The series of actions by Fu Bu’er’s family became the talk of the village for a long time. Fu Bu’er himself was also skeptical of his methods but did not dare to question them openly. He just took his long-term laborer and son to the paddy fields every day to soak the fields, plow the soil, apply base fertilizer, and repair the ditches, while waiting for the Heaven and Earth Society to deliver the seedlings.

The order for the seedlings had been allocated based on the planting area reported by Wan Lihui. One day, a wheelbarrow transport team came from Lincheng, using the new “Zidian” model general-purpose agricultural wheelbarrow from the vehicle factory. The Zidian-style wheelbarrow was designed by Li Chiqi and Jiang Muzhi based on the road conditions in Lincheng, referencing various modern wheelbarrow styles, and combined with their own industrial capabilities. It had strong passability on field paths and dirt roads and a large carrying capacity.

On the carts were boxes of rice seedlings. When Fu Bu’er heard that the rice seedlings had arrived, he quickly put down his work and went to see. He was immediately attracted by the rice seedlings in the shallow wooden trays—were these the legendary rice plants that could yield five or six hundred jin per mu?

However, the quantity seemed too small! He estimated that these seedlings couldn’t even plant 100 mu of land, at most only sixty or seventy mu. This was too much of a deception! He, Fu Bu’er, had wanted to plant all his irrigated fields, but the Heaven and Earth Society refused. He agreed to plant only half, but now the rice seedlings were clearly insufficient!

Wan Lihui was startled by Fu Bu’er, who ran up to him shouting excitedly. Not knowing what he was saying, he could only smile and wait for Fu Xi to translate his opinion.

“Not enough seedlings?” Wan Lihui thought this was unlikely. He quickly ran over to look at the boxes of seedling trays. These seedlings were of a large-panicle, non-compact type, and the seedlings were strong with well-developed roots—he understood.

“So that’s it,” Wan Lihui smiled. “Tell your master that more seedlings don’t equal a high yield—just watch.”

The leader of the transport team, Jiang Muzhi, brought a letter from Ye Yuming. The letter indeed instructed him to promote rice sparse planting technology at Fu Bu’er’s place.

“What? Planting less can yield more? How can there be such a thing in the world?”

Seeing Fu Bu’er’s skeptical expression, Wan Lihui knew that he would not believe in any “sparse planting” rice cultivation techniques until he saw the final results.

Rice sparse planting, as the name suggests, is to appropriately reduce the number of seedlings per mu during rice transplanting. The purpose is to improve the ecological environment of the field, fully utilize the strong tillering ability of rice, coordinate the contradiction between individual and population growth, enhance the plant’s resistance to stress, and increase yield; at the same time, it reduces the cost of rice production.

After adopting sparse planting, the demand for seedlings per mu can be greatly reduced, saving labor, seeds, fertilizer, and seedling cultivation facilities, and lowering production costs. During transplanting, because there are fewer seedlings per mu, the demand for labor is also greatly reduced—this is especially suitable for a place like Ming Dynasty Hainan where labor is scarce. Reduced labor per mu of farmland allows for more time for farming, making full use of Lincheng’s water and heat resources.

In addition, sparse planting allows the rice to grow into a more ideal plant form, forming large panicles. After heading, the green leaf area is large, the light-receiving posture is good, and the grain weight increases. This promotes a high-yield structure that takes into account panicles, grains, and weight, generally increasing yield by 5-10%.

Rice sparse planting is a highly technical agricultural technique that requires a high level of field management. Therefore, not all clients adopted the sparse planting method this time. After discussion, Ye Yuming and the others only selected Fu Bu’er’s family as a pilot. After all, among the agricultural technicians, Wan Lihui, who was the most experienced in rice cultivation, was there to provide guidance.

To ensure the success of sparse planting, Ye Yuming instructed him in the letter to stay at Fu Bu’er’s house for a while longer to ensure they mastered the rice sparse planting technique.

“Sparse planting is great, but—” Wan Lihui looked at Jiang Muzhi doubtfully, not sure if he could accurately convey his meaning back to the Heaven and Earth Society. “This requires a lot of fertilizer—farmyard manure is not enough.”

Sparse planting is not a panacea, nor is it simply a matter of reducing the number of transplanted seedlings and increasing the spacing. Generally speaking, it’s ‘fertile fields rely on tillering, barren fields rely on planting’. That is, for plots with relatively thin soil and poor fertility, the planting density should be appropriately increased to increase the number of effective panicles per mu. For plots with very fertile soil or high fertilizer application, sparse planting should be appropriately used. The fertility of Fu Bu’er’s rice fields was generally poor. Only half of the irrigated fields had barely acceptable fertility. If sparse planting was done with insufficient fertilizer, the result would be worse than dense planting.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Jiang Muzhi said. “Commissioner Wu has already requisitioned more than ten tons of lignite from Nanbao to Bairen City. And two boatloads of guano have been brought back from the Dongsha Islands. That should be enough, right?”

Jiang Muzhi also told him some good news. On a plot of land outside the county seat, the exploration team had discovered a peat field. Peat is suitable as both fuel and fertilizer. And it has the advantage of being very close to Bairen City. Now the Foreign Trade Department is negotiating with the landlord, preparing to buy the land for mining.

“…The road from Bairen to Nanbao will be completely open in another week. Our vehicle factory is working day and night to build ox-carts for transporting coal. Once the road is open, lignite will come rolling in. Not to mention your one or two hundred mu of land here, it will probably be enough for the whole county,” Jiang Muzhi said excitedly.

“So the fertilizer factory is just around the corner—”

“That’s right. In fact, construction has probably already started. I heard from Ye Yuming that they are currently doing civil engineering. It should be soon.”

“That’s great,” Wan Lihui thought. If he had known this earlier, why would he have gone to so much trouble with composting!

“By the way, Ye Yuming asked me to pass on a message: there have been signs of scattered bandits roaming around locally recently. The patrol team is increasing the intensity of its patrols. He wants you to pay attention to your personal safety—”

“Damn it!” Wan Lihui cursed. “I’m all alone here, without even someone to stand guard in shifts. How can I pay attention to my safety?”

“Do you have a gun?”

“Yes, standard issue for personnel on assignment,” Wan Lihui showed a Smith & Wesson 9mm revolver. “But only six rounds of ammunition.”

“Here’s a box,” Jiang Muzhi took out a paper box from his bag, a 24-round package. “And this—” he took out another long, rod-like object wrapped in paper. There was a sharp bamboo stick at the bottom.

“Signal rocket.”

This rocket was a by-product of the unguided rocket project led by Lin Shenhe’s second weapons design group. The signal rocket, made of a paper tube, was launched by ignition and could reach a height of 200 meters. It had no parachute design and relied on black smoke during the day and firelight at night for signaling, so the signal duration was not long. However, the patrol team’s fixed patrol route was only a few kilometers from Meiyang Village. If a distress signal was detected, they would arrive promptly. It was not very useful, but it was better than nothing.

“By the time I stick it in the ground and light it, my head will probably have been chopped off. I’d rather just use my PHS.” This was on the edge of the PHS coverage area. Thanks to the clean radio environment of this time and space and the lack of tall buildings, the PHS’s communication range was a bit farther than in the modern era. Wan Lihui’s phone could sometimes connect and sometimes not.

He grumbled as he took it. There were six of them.

“It’s the rainy season recently, so it’s easy to get damp. Here are a few more for you.” This statement made Wan Lihui feel even worse.

Watching the transport team gradually disappear on the field path, the sky began to rain again. The fields outside the village were empty, with few people in sight. In the distance were the gray sky and mountains… Wan Lihui had never felt so lonely. It seemed as if he was the only person left in the world. Could those people in the novels who transmigrated alone to another time and space really endure such loneliness? At least he had five hundred companions who could understand what he was saying.

After some argument, Fu Bu’er desperately followed Wan Lihui’s instructions and adopted sparse planting.

The sparsely planted seedlings in the paddy fields immediately became the laughingstock of the entire village. Several well-meaning clansmen and relatives came to persuade him: farming has been passed down for thousands of years. On what basis could this Australian change it so casually? Even if he planted well in Bairen, it didn’t mean it would work here. Don’t just listen to his instigation and waste a year’s harvest for nothing! Some even hinted that the Australians’ high yields in farming were due to “sorcery.”

After a few days, Fu Bu’er’s eyes were sunken. To avoid being nagged by his wife again, he simply beat her as soon as he got home, saving the energy of arguing. Fu Xi seemed pleased with this every time she brought Wan Lihui his meals.

“Why does your master always beat his wife?” Wan Lihui was puzzled by the daily domestic disputes.

“It’s because of you,” Fu Xi said in a low voice.

“Me? I pay for my meals.”

“Haha, it’s not about the meals,” Fu Xi laughed. “It’s about the farming…”

She then told him all the recent gossip in the village. Only then did Wan Lihui realize the seriousness of the matter. Although he hadn’t read many miscellaneous books, he knew that civilization did not necessarily triumph over ignorance, and reform always faced opposition from conservative forces. If he didn’t take measures to win the support of the Fu family, he was afraid the situation of “the policy ends when the person leaves” would occur. The agricultural promotion of the Heaven and Earth Society would be in vain.

To encourage the Fu family, after dinner, Wan Lihui would sit in the courtyard with them, fanning himself and drinking a few sips of dried grass tea while chatting. He also took the opportunity to practice his Lincheng dialect—he couldn’t expect to have a native who understood Mandarin to help him wherever he went.

At first, everyone was quite reserved and didn’t dare to speak much. After a few days, they felt that this Chief Wan was quite amiable and had many interesting stories to tell. Whatever they asked him, he would try his best to explain. Gradually, they all became more willing to talk—except for Fu Bu’er’s wife. She still refused to meet and communicate with Wan Lihui.

In just a few days, Wan Lihui had gotten a clear picture of the Fu Bu’er family’s situation:

Overall, a small landlord like Fu Bu’er was still very diligent in managing his property. These small landlords who had slowly risen from being peasants were mostly capable, frugal, and had some business sense and agricultural skills.

For example, he was more attentive to collecting fertilizer than the average local farmer. Wan Lihui had more than once seen local farmers throwing feces into the river or abandoning it in the wild because of the smell. This was simply unimaginable to Wan Lihui, who came from a farming family. So Fu Bu’er’s harvest was better than that of the average farmer. The rice he planted yielded about three hundred jin per mu.

If he relied solely on rice, he wouldn’t be able to support this large family, let alone be the second richest person in the village—after all, the richest man, Fu Yousan, had nearly eight hundred mu of land and a few more cattle than him. Fu Bu’er had managed to get where he was today through generations of hard work.

Although the Fu family was not rich, they had four household servants, three male and one female. He didn’t use long-term or short-term laborers, but only these young children. Household servants were a one-time investment. After they were bought, they only needed to be fed. Although they couldn’t do heavy work for many years, they could do subsidiary work. The older ones helped in the fields, the younger ones raised ducks and fed pigs, and the girl helped his wife cook for the whole family. They were also relatively economical with food—and more importantly, they were more obedient than long-term laborers.

His main sideline was raising ducks—the local area couldn’t consume so many ducks. He had made a special trip to the prefectural city to find a chicken and duck dealer and arranged for them to come and buy his ducks every three months. Raising ducks did not require much feed or labor, and he could also get duck eggs. The profit from selling ducks was not large—the merchants in Qiongshan County were ruthless in bullying such “country folk”—but compared to the local farmers, he had relatively flexible “cash” in his hands. He would occasionally lend money to people in the village. The interest was not high, but he required land, farm tools, or plow oxen as collateral, so it was almost a sure win. If the other party defaulted, it would be even better if he could annex their land. Fu Bu’er never leased his land to others. In his view, he could harvest more than three hundred jin if he farmed it himself, while others could only harvest about two hundred jin. Even with a 60/40 split, it was not worth it for him.

Besides that, it was about being frugal. Wan Lihui had only read stories about stingy landlords in novels before, but he didn’t expect to be living with one. The Fu family only served three meals a day during the busy farming season. Normally, they only had two meals, one solid and one liquid. They ate solid food in the morning to have the strength to work in the fields, and porridge in the evening—since they were going to sleep anyway, they wouldn’t be hungry when they were asleep.

The meals were completely egalitarian. Whether it was the master himself, the household servants, or the long-term laborers, they all ate at the same table. It was a big pot of rice and a big pot of vegetables. The rice or porridge was usually mixed with pumpkin or sweet potato. There was no meat, eggs, or fish—those were all for selling. Occasionally, unsold duck eggs were salted in mud to make salted eggs—of course, they would only eat them when they were so salty they were almost inedible, to make them go further with rice. Only during the busy farming season would there be meat or fish, plus an extra meal of dried sweet potato rice.

Wan Lihui’s meals were cooked separately by Fu Xi, and he paid for them according to the price in the agreement. The Heaven and Earth Society gave him a daily food allowance of 5 yuan. In the eyes of the Fu family and everyone in Meiyang Village, Wan Lihui ate better than the emperor: every meal was solid rice without any miscellaneous grains, with fish or chicken or duck, and some vegetables. Fu Xi often cooked dishes with duck eggs for him. This kind of treatment made several old people in the village say that the Australians were so extravagant that they would fall sooner or later. When they educated their children who were envious, they would say: if they weren’t so wasteful, why would they come all the way to this poor, remote place?

But Wan Lihui didn’t feel his treatment was that good. First, he was not used to the food. At the farm, he ate germ rice—brown rice with the bran removed but the germ retained, which was a bit coarser than commercial white rice. He was already not very used to it, and eating brown rice here was even less so. He always left a lot of the bowl of dry rice at every meal. Every time the dishes were cleared, Wan Lihui would see Fu Bu’er’s wife staring intently at Fu Xi as she took the leftovers to the kitchen before she was satisfied.

“That stingy old woman!” Wan Lihui cursed. Fu Bu’er’s wife had not given him a good look to this day—compared to the men who were more sensitive to the development of the situation, women were probably always more obtuse in this regard.

“Hmph, she wishes everyone would eat bran and wild vegetables every meal and save all the rice,” Fu Xi said in a low voice. “She says you’re a swindler, that you’ve tricked the master out of his senses, wasting the fields and crops, and that you’re going to ruin her family just to take over the Fu family’s land. She also says you’re a male fox spirit, that you’ve bewitched the whole family.” At this, she giggled.

“A male fox spirit?” Wan Lihui thought gloomily. I’m not the kind of pretty boy who can offer his chrysanthemum. How did I get such a title?

“Yes, she even had a fight with sister Yijin last night and made her cry,” Fu Xi said mysteriously. “Do you know why?”