Song Tan’s Chronicle

Chapter 11: 11. Process the seeds

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Early the next morning, when Song Sancheng got up, he was stunned for a moment.

The air... is so fresh!

I saw the mountains in the distance shrouded in clouds and mist, with a thin layer of golden light faintly smudged, and it looked as beautiful as the scenic spot.

There was a layer of white mist in the pond at the entrance, thick and dense, almost covering the entire surface of the water. The mist was of very low pressure and was moving slowly.

Song Sancheng clearly remembered that a plum tree near the yard had withered last month, so how come a few flowers bloomed today? The small yellow buds, half-opened, were not only very cute, but also had a faint fragrance that could be smelled from afar.

At this moment, the old farmer had a rare feeling of appreciating beauty, but he also felt that something was wrong, as if he was also being appreciated...

He turned his head and looked!

I saw seven or eight local grey squirrels clinging to the courtyard wall, looking at the courtyard like paparazzi. Looking at the back hill, it was also a bleak scene after the cold winter, but it also had a feeling of freshness.

Just like... just like it was polished!

Song Sancheng stared blankly for a long time, then laughed at his own thoughts: "A-choo!"

It's too cold in the morning.

He quickly put aside his messy thoughts, picked up a pile of firewood and went to light the stove.

Alas, life is hard for older men. Everyone is afraid of the cold, but he has to get up and make a fire.

In the room.

Song Tan slowly withdrew her spiritual consciousness. The spiritual energy attracted around her was transformed through her practice of the Water and Wood Spiritual Technique, and now turned into a more intense vitality and quietly dissipated.

The air inside and outside the house is fresh.

She felt the abundant spiritual energy in her body and breathed a sigh of relief - her body was finally almost recovered.

Song Tan left the room, washed up, and then took two wild grass stems from the firewood pile. He tied them into a cross shape and squatted in the empty vegetable garden. He held the cross in his palms with both hands, with the ends slightly touching the ground.

Then he closed his eyes slightly and said softly:

"How is my savior now?"

This is Fuqi.

The ancient method of calculation, like the I Ching Bagua, has low requirements for spiritual energy. Many ordinary people with a little spiritual power can do it. It is also the only thing that Song Tan, who is still in the Qi training stage, can do.

Of course, since the entry threshold is low, the calculation results are also... a bit sloppy.

If it weren't for the man who saved her in the car accident, even if she had traveled back in time and used her spiritual energy to repair her body, it would have been difficult for her to survive in such an explosion.

The memory was too chaotic, the spiritual energy conflicted with the physical injuries, Song Tan only remembered the other person's dark brown eyes and thick eyelashes...

She didn't find out the answer in the hospital, but now that her spiritual energy has recovered a little, she naturally wants to investigate it as soon as possible.

Cultivators value cause and effect, but Song Tan values gratitude.

If nothing else, it’s always okay to give some local specialties as gifts.

Dr. Zhang Yuan in the hospital was being evasive in his comments, and she always felt something was not right.

Spiritual energy surged, and the simple spirit writing brush in his hand slowly slid in the slightly moist soil in the early morning. Song Tan opened his eyes and saw a line of scattered answers on the ground:

“Not dead”

Song Tan: …

She cracked.

What kind of answer is this? No wonder no one in the Cang Xuan Realm uses this method anymore!

She was unwilling to give up, so she closed her eyes again and asked quietly, "Where is my savior?"

The spiritual energy surged again, and finally a line of more scattered words was drawn:

"Home"

Song Tan became even angrier!

She threw the cross grass in her hand away, and for the first time she felt that metaphysics was useless. After thinking about it, she simply sent a message to the doctor at Ning Provincial People's Hospital again:

"Doctor Zhang, could you please tell me how the gentleman who saved me is doing now? Was he transferred to another hospital due to health reasons? If possible, could you give me his contact information?"

"Even if the other party doesn't need me to repay him for saving my life, I still have to thank him in person."

It took a long time for the message to be replied: "Then I will ask for you again."

On a winter morning, washing vegetables in the kitchen would freeze your hands, so Wulan simply cooked a big pot of dumplings. Qiaoqiao was like a spinning top, serving dumplings to his sister one moment and dumpling soup to her the next...

The couple, one makes the fire and the other cooks, and they serve themselves food, being self-reliant!

Where is Song Tan

Da La La sat on the chair and coaxed people with her mouth: "Qiao Qiao is so nice!"

"Qiao Qiao is so good!"

"Sister drank up the dumpling soup Qiao Qiao brought in one gulp!"

Wu Lan and Song Sandu were both silent.

Silly son, what should I do

Out of sight, out of mind. Song Sancheng said "hmm" and changed the subject:

"Well, the tillers came this morning, so we need to cook some more food for lunch."

Song Tan was curious: "Use a tractor to transport it here?"

Where are the tractors now

"Use a tricycle."

Song Tan:!!!

The tiller is small, but isn't it a bit disrespectful to use a three-wheeler to transport it? Besides, can a three-wheeler go over mountains and hills

But before she could figure out the problem, she heard the sound of a car on the road outside. She went out to take a look and saw, wow!

It was indeed an old maroon tricycle, very much like the private tricycles used on the roadside in Ningcheng for moving and delivering goods.

In the back bucket, which was not big yet seemed very big, was a not-new maroon tillage machine, which was obviously ready to go into service.

"Brother, where is the land? I'll go right away!"

"You're here so early? Have you eaten?"

The two old men exchanged greetings and then walked towards the edge of the field amid the roar of the tricycle.

On this side, Wulan was thinking about the lunch, and she also did not forget to tell her daughter:

"We have hired a lot of tree cutters in the back mountain. They just cut down those densely packed oak trees as big as bowls. On the one hand, they can make room for a pigpen. On the other hand, don't you want to grow black fungus and white fungus? These tree trunks are just right for you."

The money had been spent, so Wulan could only accept these plans. Now she felt calm when she talked about it:

"I'll ask someone to pull out the weeds in the chestnut forest on the hillside next to the pond. Otherwise, it will affect the cultivation of Tremella fuciformis."

While muttering: "It's more expensive to hire someone to pull weeds than to spray pesticides..."

Song Tan pretended to be a quail, because it was impossible for him to spray pesticides anyway.

However, pretending to be a quail did not get away. Wulan stared at her again and said, "If you want to farm, you can't sit idle. Go and prepare the seeds for me."

Song Tan nodded quickly.

Qiao Qiao held her own bowl and poked a large dumpling with her knife. Without understanding anything, she quickly said, "Sister! Let me help you!"

—Ulan looked even angrier.

It is quite simple to handle the seeds of Astragalus membranaceus.

Song Tan and Qiao Qiao shoveled two shovels of sand from outside, mixed it with the sweet clover seeds, and rubbed them vigorously - this would help to thin the thick shell and make it germinate faster.

This kind of rubbing through the bag not only requires some strength, but is also particularly fun. Song Qiao laughed as he rubbed the fruits, and it was obvious that he had a talent for farm work.

When it’s kneaded enough, it’s time to dry it in the sun.

Let them dry in the sun for a few hours, then continue playing with water—no, just soak the seeds for half a day.

Wait until noon, stir it a few times, and throw away the inferior seeds that float to the surface.

The seeds are processed.

After all, it is green manure, and everyone has been using this crude planting method for so many years. The only difference is that when soaking, Song Tan melted some spiritual energy into the water.

Qiao Qiao looked at the seeds in half of the yard and was very proud at this moment: "Sister, farming is so fun!"

My arms are just a little sore.