Chapter 121: Chick Hatchery Room

Back in the village, Zhou Yimin saw a group of kids chasing sparrows.

Don’t underestimate sparrows—one or two aren’t a big deal, but if they come in flocks, the amount of grain they consume daily can be terrifying.

He’d heard that in some places, sparrows could blanket the sky.

…

“In a little while, the wheat will be ready for harvest,” Zhou Dazhong said with a hint of joy in his tone.

Although he was now working in the city, he still cared about the village.

After all, his mother, younger brother, and sister were still living there. Moreover, with Sixteenth Uncle setting an example, even those who moved to the city for work remained closely tied to Zhoujiazhuang.

People who completely cut ties with the village after leaving would probably displease Sixteenth Uncle.

And if there’s anyone you don’t want to displease, it’s him!

“Sixteenth Grandpa!” The group of little ones rushed over.

Zhou Yimin pointed at Luo Dapeng. “He brought food—go find him today.”

“Big Bro Dapeng!” Hearing there was food, the kids swarmed over, shouting messily with their tiny voices.

Luo Dapeng: “…”

They were calling Zhou Yimin “Sixteenth Grandpa,” and calling him “Bro”—he suddenly felt like his generation had dropped a rank.

He was a little frustrated.

But since his “little bros” were all here, he pulled out a bag of twisted fritters from the truck bed.

“One at a time, line up. Shorter ones in front,” Luo Dapeng said. Once they were lined up, he handed out one fritter to each child.

Twisted fritters are a type of deep-fried snack shaped like a hinge, and are also called “hinge sticks.”

The most famous ones are from Tianjin—fragrant, crispy, crunchy, and sweet. They can keep for months in a dry, well-ventilated place without losing flavor, going soft, or spoiling.

In times of scarcity, twisted fritters held a high status in children’s eyes—rivaling spicy strips in later generations.

Luo Dapeng once again got to enjoy the thrill of being the “boss.”

Meanwhile, Zhou Zhiming and the others helped unload the sewage pipes and moved them to the side.

“What’s this stuff now?” Zhou Zhiming asked, a bit confused.

“That pile is for the toilets. This pile is for building a chick hatchery room,” Zhou Yimin said.

The people building Zhou Yimin’s house looked completely baffled.

A chick hatchery room?

What the heck was that?

Seeing their confused expressions, Zhou Yimin had to explain, “Simply put, it’s a building with machines to hatch chicks from eggs. Our village doesn’t have electricity, so I’m planning to build a hatchery to incubate chicks manually.”

“Huh? That’s possible?” Everyone was stunned.

Their worldview shattered on the spot.

Traditionally, only hens could hatch chicks. To suddenly hear about artificial incubation—it was a major shock to their understanding.

“It’s possible, and it’s even more effective than using hens—faster too,” Zhou Yimin said.

He wasn’t exaggerating.

When hens hatch chicks, they still need to leave the nest sometimes. That inevitably affects the hatch rate. Plus, hens can’t tell good eggs from bad ones, or whether an egg has been fertilized.

“Basically, hatching chicks comes down to two factors: one is temperature, to mimic a hen’s body warmth; the second is ventilation.

A lot of people don’t know this, but eggs breathe too, just like us.”

After saying that, he saw everyone still looking totally lost, so he stopped explaining.

“Forget it. If you don’t get it, just follow my instructions. When the chicks hatch, you’ll see for yourselves—nothing to worry about,” Zhou Yimin said.

Well, since he put it that way, they stopped asking.

Honestly, they really couldn’t understand it. No explanation would help. They had to see it with their own eyes—chicks hatching without a hen—before they’d believe it.

Besides, Yimin was a knowledgeable person. He knew a lot more than they did.

Maybe he really did have a way to hatch chicks without hens.

It was like the solar stove. No need to burn firewood, and it could still boil water.

Or the hand pump well—just crank it a few times, and up came groundwater. A month ago, if someone had told them that, they’d have thought that person was insane.

Back inside the house, Zhou Yimin carried in the bag of Wuchang rice he bought for 1 yuan.

“We still have plenty of food at home!” Grandma smiled at Zhou Yimin.

Her dear grandson was always afraid the two elders wouldn’t have enough good food, constantly bringing home fine grains, meat, oil, and such.

“Grandma! This rice is different—it’s said to be tribute rice, the kind eaten in the imperial palace. This time, we’ll give it a taste too.”

Hearing that, the old lady couldn’t resist stepping closer. She reached out and grabbed a small handful into her palm.

One look, and she nodded. “Yes! This really is top-quality rice—hard to come by.”

As for whether it was truly tribute rice, she didn’t know. She’d never seen any. But when it came to judging rice quality, she could tell just by looking and touching.

Not long after, the old village secretary and the others came by after hearing the news.

“A chick hatchery room? How’s that gonna work?” The old secretary was just as shocked.

If it hadn’t been Zhou Yimin suggesting it, he wouldn’t have believed it at all.

Earlier, they thought Yimin was just going to raise some chicks. They never expected he would hatch them himself.

“Just build a small room—not too big, a few square meters will do. I’ll take care of the setup later. When the time comes, just follow my instructions and provide heat for the hatchery,” Zhou Yimin said.

He was planning to install hot water pipes inside the hatchery. As long as they boiled water, it would keep the room warm.

The main reason he chose hot water pipes was because they made temperature control easier.

“Alright. Whatever you need, just tell Zhiming and the others. I’ll put him in charge of this hatchery. You can teach him how to run it too,” said the old secretary, who had gradually been delegating more responsibilities—especially when Zhou Yimin was in the village.

He knew full well he was falling behind the times—especially in his thinking.

Some of the things Zhou Yimin imagined, he wouldn’t have dared to even dream of before. But Yimin wanted to make them real.

Because of that, he had begun to delegate authority and deliberately cultivate young people in the village, encouraging them to work closely with Yimin.

With projects like these, he would assign one person to be responsible and have them report back to Yimin. The details of how things were done were entirely up to Yimin.

“Sure, it’s very simple,” Zhou Yimin nodded.

“Alright, I better finish up the remaining work on the toilets first,” Zhou Zhiming said, suddenly feeling a bit more pressure on his shoulders.

(End of chapter)