The Fulang's Modern Young Husband Chapter 375 Part 1

Chapter 375

What could possibly be so extraordinary?

The rice panicles on the plots that Zhao Ger had tended were unusually long. The grains at the tips were still green, but they had grown so thick and close together that the stalks could hardly be seen underneath.

At this stage, the grains were still just hollow husks, so nothing definitive could yet be told. But for the crop to have grown so densely already—if things continued like this later on...

No one dared to imagine it.

Truly, no one dared.

These people had spent their entire lives farming, and never once had they seen panicles this long. It was enough to scare a person to death.

As time went on, the villagers took to sitting by the fields every single day—not by their own fields, but by the village chief's. They'd watch without blinking, keeping vigil, spending more time staring at the village chief's land than at their own.

Day by day, the grains grew plump and full. The weather gradually turned cool. The village chief came to see Zhao Ger again. By now the rice in the fields had turned golden yellow, and it looked like harvest time was not far off.

Back when the grains had first set, everyone had worried they might turn out empty—that all that density would be for nothing. But they didn't think that way anymore. Whether it would be good or not, they wouldn't truly know until after the harvest, when the rice was dried and weighed. 

But these farmers had decades of experience working the land. With just one look, they could tell good rice from bad. Zhao Ger's three plots were all excellent. Why? Because the panicles were bowed low, so heavy with grain they seemed about to droop all the way to the ground. And when one picked a panicle up and weighed it in the hand, the heft was unmistakable.

Their own rice panicles, by comparison, felt practically weightless in the palm.

Zhao Ger went out to the fields to see for himself. The three plots were growing at different rates. The plot where he had used the least fertilizer was performing better than the others—and the other two were still excellent.

Back when he'd been fertilizing the cabbages, he'd roughly figured out the right amount. Rice would need a bit more than cabbages, he'd thought.

But he'd also worried about getting it wrong. So for the second and third plots, he'd added a few extra catties more than the first—not too much, because in all things, excess was as bad as deficiency.

Now he could see: using less still had an effect, but it wasn't as pronounced.

He raised his eyes and looked across the fields. A brilliant expanse of gold stretched out before him. But in other people's fields, the rice leaves were still a lush green, and the panicles were nowhere to be seen.

He walked over to the edge of a neighboring field, parted the leaves, and looked inside—the panicles were hidden by the foliage. The grains were so sparse that even the yellow ones barely stood out.

The fertilizer worked. Zhao Ger was overjoyed. After all, he'd farmed before too. Seeing crops grow well still made him happy—even if he himself would never have to work the land again, and even if he would be eating from the harvest. He glanced back at the crowd trailing behind him and scanned their faces. "Hey—where are Grandpa Lu and Grandpa Ding?"

The two old men were usually the ones who loved wandering through the fields the most. Sometimes when Zhao Ger came back from supervising at the paper mill and looked toward the east end of the village, he could still spot their figures from afar.

Now that harvest season was approaching, not seeing them was unusual.

One of the young fulangs laughed. "They're lying down at home!"

It had been getting a bit chilly at night lately, with the seasons changing. Zhao Ger assumed they'd caught a cold and asked a couple more questions, but the others just laughed.

"It's not a cold—they got scared." Feeling that still did not seem quite right either, the speaker corrected himself: "Actually, they were overjoyed."

Grandpa Lu's wife happened to be there just then, and she chuckled. "Overjoyed is exactly right. A few days ago it rained, so he didn't go to the fields. The day before yesterday, as soon as it cleared up, he ran out to take a look. When he came back, his face was all worked up—half startled, half thrilled. Before I could even ask what happened, he suddenly collapsed on the ground."

She'd been terrified. She'd sent their son running to fetch the physician from the next village. The physician took his pulse and said there was nothing wrong—he'd just gotten too excited, his blood and qi had surged upward, and he'd wake up soon enough.

As for the village chief, these days he was too happy to even speak.

For the past several days, the villagers had been going out to the fields in groups. When they came back, they couldn't find the words to describe what they'd seen.

They'd lived more than half their lives, and never once had they seen anyone's crops grow this well.

Back when Fang Zichen had said that with fertilizer, one mu could yield four or five dan, everyone had taken it as a joke. They hadn't believed a word of it. But now—the rice was right there, solid and real. They'd seen it, they'd touched it. The three plots together came to less than one mu—short by about two fen. Even if it didn't reach four or five dan, even if they calculated at the lowest estimate, it had to be at least three dan.

[1 mu = 10 fen = 666.67 m²; 1 dan = 50 kg]

Now, every household talked of nothing but the fertilizer and the crops in those three plots.

Before, when they closed their eyes, they'd think about how handsome that new young bride next door was, how plump her backside was—clearly a good childbearing type—and when would their own son marry someone like that and give the family a chubby grandchild. Or they'd think about that widow at the west end of the village and her pretty floral clothes, how fetching she looked. But now those idle thoughts were gone. All they could think about were those heavy, drooping panicles, that sea of gold.

As for their own fields, harvest was almost here. They needed to drain the water, chase the birds away, and cut the weeds along the edges so the rats would not multiply and gnaw on the crops.

There was so much work to do. But nobody wanted to do it. Because after looking at Zhao Ger's fields too much, then looking at their own, they just lost all motivation. They'd work for a bit, then toss down their sickles. 

No—I need to go take another look at Fulang Fang’s field.

The crops growing there—they're just just so beautiful!

They'd gather by the field ridges, spot someone else, and start chatting.

"What exactly is this fertilizer, anyway?"

"How can just spreading it on the ground make the crops grow like crazy?"

"It's absolutely miraculous!"

And their own field work? Completely forgotten.

No, no—I have to go ask at Lord Fang's house.

They simply couldn't sit still!

Fang Zichen also went out to the fields for a look.

The seeds weren't that great, and he'd only applied fertilizer once. He'd heard that this fertilizer should be applied several times!

If he hadn't gotten so busy later on, if he'd made a bit more and applied a second round, the crops would probably look even better now.