Chapter 231 – Handing Over the Public Grain (Part 2)

The villages at the front of the line entered in an orderly fashion under the direction of their village chiefs.

Standing nearby, the grain station staff took an iron tool and directly inserted it into the sack full of grain. The grain flowed smoothly through the iron device.

The staff member grabbed a few grains, tossed them into his mouth, and crunched down loudly. Clearly, he wasn’t satisfied with what he found.

He spoke bluntly, “Moisture content is over the limit. Go dry it over there.”

The man who had brought the grain was about to argue, but their village chief quickly stopped him.

The chief hurriedly apologized, “Sir, I’m sorry, this young man doesn’t know better. Please don’t take it to heart. We’ll go dry it right now.”

As he spoke, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and discreetly passed it over.

The staff member’s grim expression finally softened when he saw the cigarettes, and he didn’t say much more—just waved for the next people to come forward.

The village chief said sternly, “Are you trying to get everyone in trouble? If I hadn’t reacted quickly, the rest of the grain would’ve failed inspection. Then we’d either have to re-dry it or come up with some other excuse.”

“I’m sorry, Chief. I acted on impulse,” the man finally realized.

Sure enough, with the help of that pack of cigarettes, the standards for the next inspections weren’t as strict. Of course, if the difference in quality was too obvious, there was still nothing that could be done about it.

After nearly an hour of busy work, the grain from the first village was finally all checked.

Only a dozen or so sacks needed to be dried, and two were criticized for having poor quality, with grain that wasn’t full or plump enough.

Fortunately, during the final weigh-in, the total weight was enough, so they didn’t need to make another trip back to get more grain.

That’s why those who came to hand in public grain always brought a bit extra—just in case. Going back and forth wasn’t easy.

The second village in line was the one that transported their grain in a large truck. They were very confident and didn’t bring many people, only about ten to handle unloading.

The grain station staff probably hadn’t seen anyone hand over public grain in a big truck before. Usually, big trucks came to collect grain and transport it elsewhere. So, the grain station wasn’t as surprised as the common folk were.

To build goodwill with the truck driver, the inspection standards were relaxed. After a few random checks showing the quality was decent and up to standard, they didn’t make things difficult and allowed the grain to be weighed right away.

People waiting in line behind them looked on enviously.

“Is someone from that village related to the grain station leadership? They’re going straight to weigh-in,” someone commented.

Another added, “Even if they’re not related, they showed up in a big truck—there’s definitely a connection.”

Everyone in line agreed. Having a truck driver in the village was practically a matter of honor.

As time passed, nearly three hours went by before it was finally Zhoujiazhuang’s turn.

Leading the way was the old village secretary, carrying a sack of grain. He also took out two packs of Zhonghua cigarettes that had been carefully hidden.

When the grain station staff saw the Zhonghua brand, he was visibly startled—this was premium stuff, the kind that you couldn’t get without connections. It was considered one of the best cigarettes available on the market.

In fact, some Zhonghua cigarettes weren’t even sold publicly—they were specially supplied and completely out of reach for ordinary folks.

The staff member was now quite curious. This year’s villages were pulling out all the stops: one had a big truck, another was handing out Zhonghua cigarettes. He wondered if there were more surprises in store.

Silently, he shifted his body and held his pocket open toward the old village secretary.

The secretary understood immediately and slipped both packs of Zhonghua into the pocket.

To make things seem less obvious, the staffer went ahead and inserted the iron tool into the sack the secretary had brought. As the wheat flowed out, he grabbed a few grains, chewed them, and found no issues—in fact, the quality was quite good.

“All right, take it for weighing!” he announced.

Random checks on the rest of the grain also turned up no problems.

In less than twenty minutes, Zhoujiazhuang’s grain had all been handed in for the year, and it was even rated as first-class grain.

Keep in mind that in past years, Zhoujiazhuang’s grain usually qualified as second-class, and one year, it even slipped to third-class.

First-class and second-class rice differ significantly in various aspects, including processing precision, nutritional content, eating quality, and rice yield. Here’s a breakdown of the major differences:

First-class rice has most of the bran and powder layers removed during processing. The back groove is either skinless or has an extremely thin skin layer, and over 90% of the rice grains have their germ and surface layers fully removed.

Second-class rice lags slightly, with some skin remaining on the back groove, and only about 85% of the rice grains having those parts removed. Third-class doesn’t even reach 85%.

Zhou Xu was in disbelief. “I can’t believe handing in the public grain was so easy this year. In previous years, getting it done in a single day was already impressive.”

The brigade leader said irritably, “And you never paid attention to what was given in past years—just eggs or some insoles. How could it go quickly like that?”

If he had received Zhonghua cigarettes himself, it might’ve gone even faster.

Besides, the commune probably got a heads-up from Chen Hua too.

Zhou Xuqiang said, “Anyway, it’s a good thing. Now that the grain’s handed over, we can finally head back.”

The rest of Zhoujiazhuang felt the same. They walked out of the grain station gate cheerfully.

When the people from Shangshui Village saw how quickly Zhoujiazhuang’s group had finished, Village Chief Wang asked, “Brigade Leader, you guys already finished handing in your grain?”

The brigade leader grinned, “That’s right, Village Chief Wang! We’re done.”

Village Chief Wang was shocked. Even the village that brought grain in by truck hadn’t finished this quickly.

And Zhou Yimin hadn’t even shown up—did they give something really special? He leaned in and asked quietly, “Brigade Leader, what did you give them?”

“Zhonghua cigarettes,” the brigade leader answered just as quietly.

After all, this kind of thing couldn’t be spoken of publicly.

Village Chief Wang hadn’t expected Zhonghua. He thought Da Qianmen would’ve already been impressive. His village had prepared Da Qianmen.

No doubt, those Zhonghua cigarettes must have come from Zhou Yimin. No one else had those kinds of connections.

If he’d known, he would’ve shamelessly bought a couple of packs himself. That way, his village could’ve handed in their grain earlier too—they still had lots of farming to do.

After handing over the public grain, the village still had to send ten to twenty people to help repair the irrigation canals.

That had been decided at the last commune meeting.

And besides that, there were vegetables and other crops to tend to.

All in all, this year was busier than previous years. But people were happy to be busy, because the work came with rewards. It wasn’t wasted effort.

(End of Chapter)