Chapter Twelve: Gathering Eggs

On the iron bed, Zhong Di’s breathing suddenly grew rapid as he slept, and soon fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

“No… no…”

His eyes remained tightly shut, and strange words spilled from his mouth now and then.

It seemed his cries had awakened Yu Sheng, who called out to him from the iron bed, but received no reply.

“Ah!”

Zhong Di let out a sharp scream and jolted awake. Hearing Yu Sheng beside him, he bent down and stroked Yu Sheng’s dog head.

Thankfully, it was only a dream. Zhong Di picked up his phone and checked the time; dawn was not far off, so he got dressed without hesitation.

He’d dreamt a particularly strange dream: at first, he was wandering through a sea of flowers, but then the flowers turned ferocious and slowly devoured him, transforming him into fertilizer. That was when Zhong Di woke.

After getting dressed, Zhong Di stepped out of the small house. Seeing the water was nearly done, he stopped the well and checked the electric meter.

This time, he’d used two thousand kilowatt-hours; calculating the local electricity rate, that was eight hundred yuan in one go—painful.

Back in the orchard, he began to observe its condition.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the orchard lately, so the dream was only natural.

Upon observation, he found that not all plants possessed complex emotions; most only had simple behavioral information.

Zhong Di summarized this as “spirituality”: only plants with a certain level of spirituality displayed emotional responses.

Spirituality appeared in roughly two situations: first, in groups—when a population was large enough, spirituality emerged, along with emotions, like the cotton plants before.

Second was time—the longer a plant lived, the stronger its spirituality.

For instance, with the weeds, Zhong Di could only perceive their needs for fertilizer or water, but never emotions like crying.

On the jujube trees, he sensed some emotions, though not particularly strong—less intense than the cotton before. This was why he defined spirituality in two ways.

Moreover, in the jujube trees’ emotional world, the weeds were like pests, much as humans regard rats.

Both are mammals, but in human eyes, rats are creatures one wishes to eradicate.

Given that, weeds, you can’t blame me.

After sensing the jujube trees’ feelings, Zhong Di decided on his next step.

He would clear the orchard, tidy up the jujube grove for a cleaner look, which would aid future development.

At that moment, he heard the sound of a rooster crowing.

He nearly forgot—he hadn’t checked the chickens yet, nor the condition of the coop, nor if the chickens had escaped.

Yu Sheng heard the rooster and ran more eagerly than Zhong Di. Soon, he reached the chicken coop and saw the chickens scratching for food inside. Zhong Di relaxed; the chickens seemed well adapted.

Chickens, being fowl, naturally lack much spirituality and can live anywhere; their world is not burdened with emotion.

Even in unfamiliar places, as long as there’s food, they quickly forget their previous home.

Woof woof… woof.

The puppy seemed to have discovered something, barking desperately at a spot, which piqued Zhong Di’s curiosity.

“Well now, eggs on the first day. Good dog, Yu Sheng, I’ll reward you later.” Zhong Di reached through the wire mesh and picked up some eggs.

Then he entered the coop, searching around and found a few more.

When enough free-range eggs had accumulated, he could begin selling them. But then he thought, even free-range eggs didn’t fetch much in this county.

Suddenly, inspiration struck. Zhong Di took out his phone, opened the popular short-video app, and while gathering eggs, recorded a video. After reviewing it, he sent it out.

Truly good things rarely fetch a high price locally. Even now, so-called free-range eggs are mostly fed with commercial feed, or yields wouldn’t suffice and profits would be lost.

From that moment, Zhong Di considered online sales as the way forward: first, build a reputation, then business would naturally grow.

He could also promote his little farm, attracting attention.

After posting the video, Zhong Di shared it to his social circle, noting: “Genuine free-range eggs. Message me if interested.” After sending it, he put away his phone and, smiling, carried the eggs back to the kitchen.

On the first day, he collected six eggs; the others likely hadn’t adapted yet, but in a few days, they’d start laying.

Receiving the eggs put Zhong Di in a good mood. He prepared a water basin for the chickens and went to the orchard, picking some bitter grass for them.

Bitter grass was ideal for feeding herbivores or omnivores.

After feeding the chickens, Zhong Di used the rice cooker to make some porridge, then fried a few eggs—his breakfast.

After eating, he started tinkering with the old tractor. Though weathered, it was still functional; it just needed refueling.

He worked until the sun was high, then rode his electric tricycle to the free market; he hadn’t bought everything yesterday and needed to make up for it today.

Driving along, Zhong Di mentally calculated his funds. After paying off his credit card, he had fifteen hundred left.

Most of his money came from the sixty thousand his mother gave him. Yesterday, he spent about three thousand on miscellaneous items, plus sixteen thousand for the chickens—a total of nineteen thousand.

For the fifteen hundred spent on the big chickens, he filled the gap with his own money.

Then there was the electric tricycle, costing seven thousand. Altogether, he’d spent twenty-six thousand, leaving thirty-four thousand.

Money—so easily spent.

Lost in thought, Zhong Di arrived at the free market. He bought plenty of wire mesh, some tools, and calculated that he’d need more for the incoming chicks.

After shopping, he wandered through the poultry and small animal section and found a seller with rabbits. At eighty yuan each, he bought fifteen, only one of which was male. He wondered if the poor male would be exhausted.

Finding nothing else suitable, Zhong Di headed to the seed shop in Shache County—a place he visited yearly.

In the village, everyone maintained a small vegetable garden, so the seed shop was a frequent stop.

After years of trial, the Golden Seed Shop proved the best; their seeds were genuine, unlike other shops where, for example, you’d buy oil cabbage seeds but end up with hairy cabbage.

The owner, it was said, was backed by powerful connections—though that was just rumor.