Chapter 170: Double-Steamed Rice

Along the riverbed, the fastest-growing crop was baby rapeseed. It had already grown as long as a finger, and in about a week, it would be ready for harvest. Everyone in Zhoujiazhuang was eagerly looking forward to it.

By evening, all the village roads had finally been fully paved and officially completed.

Just as the tractor driver was about to leave, the brigade leader had someone deliver five zongzi.

Master Chen expressed his thanks a few times and took the five zongzi home without eating them—he couldn’t bear to.

Over the past few days, he really felt the job was worth it. He didn’t have to provide fuel himself and got two yuan a day. That alone was nice, but Zhoujiazhuang also provided him with a hot lunch every day.

Now, he even got five zongzi.

Just enough for the five members of his family.

Before leaving, Master Chen told the brigade leader that if there was anything they needed help with in the future, he’d be happy to come.

Meanwhile, the villagers had gathered at the communal canteen to receive their zongzi.

Over at the school, the old Party Secretary had already made sure some were sent over early. No way would they let those kids go hungry—everyone knew the school had Zhou Yimin backing it.

“These zongzi really fill you up,” someone said, still savoring the taste.

“Well, of course! You think this is some of that double-steamed stuff?”

“What’s wrong with you? Comparing double-steamed rice to these zongzi? Not even close.”

Double-steamed rice was a new thing that had only come out this year. Supposedly, it had been invented by a professor at Tsinghua University—and they even had a patent for it.

Given the country’s severe grain shortage, a workgroup had been established at the start of the year to research ways to “increase rice volume” in the canteen.

They had come up with bowl rice, pot rice, plate rice… but those methods only ensured grain was distributed to individuals—they didn’t actually increase volume. So, they kept at it and eventually came up with double-steamed rice, which was soon promoted across the country.

Double-steamed rice involved tightly covering the pot after the rice was cooked, sealing in all the steam, then increasing the heat to let the steam swell the rice.

The result was rice that appeared fluffier and larger than usual, with bigger, translucent grains. It was soft and practically melted in the mouth. Subjectively, it felt more filling than regular steamed rice.

But in truth, double-steamed rice just contained a lot more water. It filled people up fast, but they got hungry again soon after. In fact, many people who ate it regularly developed edema, and some even died.

Since arriving in this era, Zhou Yimin had seen double-steamed rice before, but never eaten it.

It just wasn’t healthy.

In reality, food “volume-increasing techniques” like this were widespread during times of famine.

Just last year, the Weixing Commune in Heishan County invented the “corn food expansion method,” which involved steaming the corn, grinding it, then boiling it again. Even a developed place like Shanghai had introduced an “advanced rice cooking technique” to improve the yield from rice—turning one jin of polished rice into 2.8 jin of cooked rice instead of just 2.

And so on.

“Hey! Which one do you want? Hurry up!” the person handing out the zongzi snapped impatiently.

Zhou Dafu was still picking and choosing.

Everyone knew the zongzi came in different flavors, and they had been shuffled randomly. Of course, everyone wanted the meat-filled ones most.

So, people like Zhou Dafu would keep digging through the pile.

After Zhou Dafu got scolded, everyone else behaved. They made sure of the one they wanted before reaching out to take it.

It was rare for villagers to get to enjoy zongzi outside of the Dragon Boat Festival. Some even licked the leaves afterward and chewed on them a little—they just couldn’t help it.

A single zongzi definitely wasn’t enough to fill up, but next up was sweet potatoes.

After over a month of eating sweet potatoes and potatoes, no one could honestly say they weren’t tired of them.

Once everyone had eaten, the old Party Secretary took the chance to say a few words. First, he congratulated everyone on the successful completion of the road project and thanked them for their hard work. Then, he brought up the idea of building a reservoir.

He specifically mentioned that the idea came from Yimin.

There was no other choice!

These days, Yimin’s words carried even more weight than his own. If he had made the suggestion himself, some villagers would probably have mocked him—saying things like, “Got nothing better to do now that your belly’s full?”

But if Yimin brought it up, almost no one would oppose it. At most, they’d ask a couple of questions.

“You all know Yimin is well-traveled and knowledgeable. One of his friends said this drought might continue. Waiting for rain could be futile. We might just have to hope for snow this winter.

Also, we all know that a major drought is usually followed by a major flood.

Even if that’s not entirely accurate, we have to prepare for the possibility. That’s why I support building a reservoir. After the wheat harvest, we’ll get started,” the old Party Secretary said.

The brigade leader looked at Zhou Yimin. “Yimin, say a few words to everyone.”

Zhou Yimin didn’t shy away. He stepped into the crowd and said, “On one hand, it’s to prevent flood disasters. But building a reservoir has many other benefits, too.

For example, electricity. Once the reservoir is built and there’s water, I’ll figure out a way to bring in a generator so the village can have electricity.”

He started painting a picture of the future for the villagers again.

Electricity! What a temptation!

This was something that affected every villager’s life.

Zhou Yimin had thought it through. Applying to get connected to the grid wasn’t realistic anytime soon. It’d be better for the village to handle it themselves—build a small hydropower station. That would be more than enough for Zhoujiazhuang’s needs.

Sure enough, everyone’s eyes lit up when they heard that.

Even the residents in the heart of the Hongxing Commune didn’t all have electricity. Electricity was practically a luxury exclusive to city folks.

“Electricity? Yimin, is that even possible?” the brigade leader asked, stunned.

Zhou Yimin replied, “It’s just a water turbine generator. I’ll use my connections to help the village buy a secondhand one.”

Water turbine generators consist of components like rotors, stators, frames, thrust bearings, guide bearings, coolers, and brakes. They’re not that complicated, and even a basic model could be produced by their steel factory.

That was all the assurance the villagers needed.

For a moment, they couldn’t help but picture a future where every home had electric lights.

“And not just that—we can also raise fish and ducks in the reservoir later.”

Private ventures weren’t allowed under current policies, but collective efforts were fine. Everything Zhou Yimin did in the village was under the name of the village collective, so there was no fear of anyone accusing him of crossing the line.

Zhou Yimin continued, “And another thing! After the busy farming season, there are no more production tasks, right? No way to earn labor credits. But if we build the reservoir, the village will continue giving out work credits.”

That hit home for the villagers again. Labor credits were their primary source of income.

At that moment, the old Party Secretary and the brigade leader both stepped forward to echo their support.

As long as the work was for the village, it would count for labor credits.

(End of chapter)