Chapter 169: The Fertilizer Industry

It wasn’t just the foreign liquor. That big lobster—they were probably the first people in Zhoujiazhuang to ever eat one, right?

In the village, many people had never even stepped foot outside the capital, let alone the nearby ten-mile radius, especially the older generation. So how could they have ever had the chance to eat lobster?

Thinking of this, Zhou Xuqing felt even more grateful for the decision he had made back then—to get close to Zhou Yimin.

Without the persistence he showed back then, he wouldn’t be enjoying life like this now.

Zhou Yimin brought up the topic of the research institute looking for a procurement officer to his grandparents again.

The old man thought for a moment and said that, since it was a position at the research institute, it would be best to send someone with some education and manners. That way, they wouldn’t embarrass Zhoujiazhuang.

Of course, not many in Zhoujiazhuang had much education—those who even finished middle school were few and far between.

“Let Zhiwen go! He went to middle school, and he’s tactful and knows how to behave,” the old man finally said.

Zhou Yimin looked a little embarrassed. After being back in the village for this long, he still didn’t recognize everyone. Judging from the name “Zhiwen,” this person was of the same generation as him.

Grandma explained, “Zhiwen is the mute man’s son. He used to study with your dad. He was a good student, but his family couldn’t afford to keep him in school, so he had to come back home and help out.”

As soon as the word “mute” was mentioned, Zhou Yimin instantly knew which family she was talking about.

There was only one mute in the entire Zhoujiazhuang.

Knowing the man had studied with his father reassured Zhou Yimin even more.

“Alright!” Zhou Yimin agreed readily.

As far as he was concerned, as long as the person was from Zhoujiazhuang, it didn’t matter who got the job.

“I’ll go talk to his family,” the old man said, getting up and heading out.

Soon, the old man arrived at the mute man’s house and got straight to the point. The mute immediately dropped to his knees and kowtowed in gratitude. For his son to get such a blessing, he owed everything to the old man and Zhou Yimin.

Zhou Zhiwen, who had a wife and child, also knelt with his mother and kowtowed to the old man.

“Enough of that! I’m not dead yet—what are you bowing for? The research institute isn’t an ordinary place. Once you get in, mind your words and actions. Don’t go around asking questions. Just do your job properly and don’t bring shame to Zhoujiazhuang,” the old man instructed.

Zhou Zhiwen gave his firm promise on the spot.

With business concluded, the old man didn’t stick around.

After respectfully seeing him off, the mute’s wife began using hand gestures to communicate with her son. Most people wouldn’t understand her, but the family could basically interpret everything.

“Ma, don’t worry! From now on, I’ll listen to Sixteenth Brother. Whatever he asks me to do, I’ll do it.”

Zhou Zhiwen wasn’t an ungrateful person. Of course he could tell the job came from Sixteenth Brother. Just like the other villagers who had landed jobs, he would also give a portion of his wages to Sixteenth Brother each month.

…

In the afternoon, when Zhou Yimin woke up from his nap, he saw a group of women wrapping zongzi in his house.

“Sixteenth Brother, did we wake you?” someone asked awkwardly.

Zhou Yimin waved his hand. “Not at all. I usually wake up around this time. You’ve already wrapped so many? One pot won’t be enough. I’ll pick a few, and the rest you can take to the village canteen.”

The village canteen had bigger pots.

“Alright! Yimin, this batch is meat zongzi, and this one is…” They began explaining the different kinds.

Zhou Yimin picked a few of each.

“This is enough?”

Zhou Yimin chuckled. “We don’t eat that much here—this is plenty!”

He wasn’t planning to eat too many anyway—just enough for a single meal.

Zhou Yimin placed the zongzi into a pot to boil, told Lai Cai to watch the fire, and went out for a stroll.

Looking at the lush green vegetables growing along the riverbed, Zhou Yimin couldn’t help but think: What a shame that fertilizer is so hard to get. Our country is seriously lacking in it.

Otherwise, crops would grow faster, and yields would improve too.

Fertilizer had already been invented in the 1940s.

At that time, humanity attempted to produce fertilizers artificially to supplement or replace natural ones. The production of phosphate and potash fertilizers started earlier than nitrogen-based ones, mainly because green manure and crop rotation had been practiced for a long time, along with heavy use of organic fertilizers, so there wasn’t an urgent demand for nitrogen.

China only began developing its fertilizer industry in the early 20th century.

After the founding of the nation, the government recognized the importance of fertilizer and accelerated the development of the fertilizer industry. In the 1950s, four nitrogen fertilizer plants were built in Jilin, Lanzhou, Taiyuan, and Chengdu.

In general, even though China could now produce fertilizer, the output was still extremely limited and couldn’t support large-scale use.

Right now, most farmers still relied on traditional organic fertilizers—livestock manure, plant ash, and the like.

Actually, nitrogen and phosphate fertilizers were still relatively manageable, as the raw materials were fairly abundant in China. But potash fertilizer was another story—China hadn’t even discovered the potassium salt brine mines in the northwest yet.

Speaking of those brine potassium salt mines in the northwest, Zhou Yimin recalled a documentary he had watched in his previous life.

China had gone to great lengths to finally excavate the world’s largest sulfate-type brine potash deposit.

Even so, in the future, China would still have to import about half of its potash fertilizer raw materials.

“What are you thinking about?”

At some point, the old village secretary had walked up beside Zhou Yimin.

Zhou Yimin smiled. “Thinking about how to increase yields.”

“Just leave it to fate,” the old secretary said.

In his view, farming was all about the weather. If heaven gave you a meal, you’d have a good harvest. But in years like the recent ones, when heaven didn’t give a meal, everyone just had to go hungry.

Zhou Yimin didn’t respond.

Even in the future, droughts and similar problems still left people at a loss, let alone in this era.

Back then, artificial rainfall was possible, but for a clear, cloudless sky, all people could really do was pump up groundwater. They built so many dams, yet many of them wouldn’t release water during droughts—only letting it out when heavy rains threatened to burst the reservoir. Ridiculous.

“After we harvest the wheat, let’s take advantage of the drought and build a reservoir behind the mountain,” Zhou Yimin suggested.

At the very least, they couldn’t let the villagers sit idle.

Zhou Yimin had studied the terrain. Behind the mountain was a small valley—an ideal place for a reservoir.

There were many benefits to building one.

First, it could make use of idle labor. Second, it would store water and prevent drought. Third, it could generate electricity. Fourth, it could support aquaculture.

“A reservoir? In our village?” The old secretary was stunned.

That wasn’t a small project. Even if it wasn’t a large-scale reservoir, the quality had to be guaranteed. Otherwise, if it collapsed, the whole village would be in trouble.

That small valley behind the mountain—of course the old secretary knew it was a good site for a reservoir.

He’d even heard that this year, people over in Miyun were planning to build a massive reservoir. Some villages and even villagers had already been recruited for it.

Zhou Yimin nodded. “I think this drought is going to last a long while. Let’s make as many preparations as we can.”

The old secretary thought: True, sitting idle later would just be a waste of time anyway.

(End of Chapter)