Chapter 225: Copying Homework in Shangshui Village

Zhou Yimin could tell that Village Chief Wang wanted to say something but was hesitating, so he asked, “Village Chief Wang, if there’s something you want to say, just say it. I’ll help if I can.”

If it was too difficult, then there was nothing he could do about it.

He would simply have to apologize.

Village Chief Wang cautiously asked, “Yimin, I wanted to ask if you could help our village purchase one hundred yuan worth of eggs, and convert the remaining three hundred and ninety yuan into grain. Would that be possible?”

He had done his homework. The chicken hatchery in Zhoujiazhuang had once purchased five hundred eggs in one go, and by now, the chicks were probably hatching. That meant there would soon be three to four hundred chickens. If they were raised to maturity, that would be several hundred chickens. Even if each sold for just one or two yuan, it would still bring in an extra four to five hundred yuan.

Their Shangshui Village certainly couldn’t compare to Zhoujiazhuang, but for the sake of its future, he had thickened his skin and was hoping to strengthen his ties with Zhou Yimin.

Having lived through times of food scarcity, the villagers now prioritized converting any extra money into grain. After all, with grain in hand, one could feel at ease. None of them ever wanted to feel the sting of hunger again.

Also, their village didn’t have a young man as outstanding as Zhou Yimin—but that didn’t matter. Surely, they could at least copy his “homework”?

At this point, Shangshui Village was essentially copying Zhoujiazhuang.

Whatever Zhoujiazhuang did, they followed suit.

Of course, some things couldn’t be copied. They didn’t have the same strong financial foundation or network of connections.

Zhou Yimin hadn’t expected Village Chief Wang to be so forward-thinking, but he couldn’t agree right away.

He replied, “Converting all 390 yuan into grain would be a bit much. If it’s 200 yuan, we can do it like before—trade it for sweet potatoes and such.

As for the eggs, I’ll have to check. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll do my best.”

Even though he could technically source more grain if he wanted to, pulling out such a large amount all at once might attract unwanted attention. He understood that much.

Village Chief Wang, though a little disappointed, understood the difficulty involved.

Close to 400 yuan converted into sweet potatoes or other coarse grains would amount to over ten thousand jin. That amount wasn’t easy to come by—even for a steel factory.

“Then I’ll trouble you,” said Village Chief Wang.

He then added, “We accidentally picked a bit too many string beans and some shepherd’s purse. I hope you don’t mind, Yimin!”

He’d gone to great lengths to maintain a good relationship with Zhou Yimin. Just getting the shepherd’s purse alone had taken considerable effort.

There were two types of shepherd’s purse: “fragrant” and “water” varieties. The fragrant kind had slender leaves, while the water type had broader ones. Though both grew together and were edible, their flavors were different.

The fragrant type gave off a light aroma in the mouth, while the water type had a clean, fresh taste but lacked the fragrance.

Shepherd’s purse was extremely versatile—it could be mixed into handmade dough pieces to enhance their flavor, or it could be added to dumpling fillings. Dumplings with shepherd’s purse weren’t just tasty; they had a superb mouthfeel. Even today, some restaurants still serve shepherd’s purse dumplings.

This time, Zhou Yimin didn’t refuse. “Then I appreciate it, Village Chief Wang.”

“I’ve got something to take care of shortly, so I’ll be heading out,” Zhou Yimin added.

Village Chief Wang didn’t insist he stay. Instead, he had someone tie the beans and shepherd’s purse to the back seat of Zhou Yimin’s bicycle.

Zhou Yimin then rode back to Zhoujiazhuang. Since the two villages were close, he arrived in no time.

He went home first. The old man was lying by the door, smoking. When he saw Zhou Yimin, he immediately got up from the lounge chair and came over to help.

“My eldest grandson, why’d you bring back more string beans? We already have so many at home,” he said.

They had plenty at home already, and now even more had arrived. There was no way they’d be able to eat them all.

Looks like they’d have to call Xuqing over to take some back, or they’d have to dry them.

In later years, string beans became every Shandong kid’s nightmare—showing up in meals five times a week, sometimes even three times a day. You didn’t even see your girlfriend or boyfriend that often.

Why string beans in every meal? Shandong parents knew the answer best.

Back then, northern summers didn’t offer as much variety in fruits and vegetables as today, so every household’s parents did their best to create endless variety from limited ingredients.

Zhou Yimin explained, “These were from Village Chief Wang. I went to Shangshui Village today to collect the beans.”

“Oh, that’s how it is. Looks like Village Chief Wang knows how to handle relationships,” the old man said.

They chatted as they carried the beans inside, and then discovered a nice surprise.

The old man said with delight, “Well, would you look at that! Shepherd’s purse! Looks like we can have dumplings for lunch.”

Shepherd’s purse was highly sought after. Often, as soon as it sprouted, people would snatch it up. Since it wasn’t cultivated but more like a wild plant, whoever picked it first got it.

“Exactly. We’ve still got some meat at home, right?” Zhou Yimin asked.

The old man replied, “Yep. I’ll get your grandma to make the dough, and I’ll take care of the shepherd’s purse and prepare the dumpling filling.”

“Grandpa, I still need to see Old Secretary later. If I get back late, don’t wait for me to eat,” Zhou Yimin said.

“Alright, go do your thing. Leave this to me,” the old man said.

He then took the shepherd’s purse into the kitchen. First, he blanched it, adding salt and oil to the pot to keep the greens vibrant and lock in nutrients. After blanching, he rinsed them in cold water.

Next, he squeezed out the moisture, chopped the greens finely, and set them aside. The pork was cut into small pieces, then mixed with minced ginger, salt, and soy sauce and marinated to boost its flavor.

When preparing the shepherd’s purse and pork filling, he first chopped green onions, mixed them with the greens, added oil to seal in the moisture, and then mixed in the marinated pork. The result was a filling that preserved the fresh aroma of the greens while making the pork juicy and savory.

Meanwhile, Zhou Yimin headed straight for Old Secretary’s house, only to find he wasn’t there.

He figured—could he be at the chicken hatchery?

With that thought, Zhou Yimin made his way to the hatchery. Sure enough, from a distance, he spotted the old man watching attentively, guarding against any mishaps.

Old Secretary saw him too and asked, “Yimin, you’re back? Here to check on the hatchlings?”

“Yeah! Secretary, how many chicks have hatched these past few days?” Zhou Yimin asked.

At that, Old Secretary perked up instantly.

He said excitedly, “Yimin, your chicken hatchery is incredible. We’ve already hatched over 300 chicks, with a success rate around 95 percent.

If we can keep this up, we should get around 475 chicks from the 500 eggs.”

(End of chapter)