Her Cultivation Diary

Chapter 161: 161. Not enough food for the pig_1 Chapter 161: 161. Not enough food for the pig_1 The computer screen dimly reflected Lun Chuan’s scarred face, but his expression remained unchanged, casually swiping away two interception notifications—

Zhou Yongzhi can’t find me, and no one is there to inherit the several million yuan of family property, so that must have him worried now.

It’s not like I’m a fool.

It doesn’t matter how many more years Zhou Yongzhi could live, or how much the inheritance is worth, just considering the man himself, Lun Chuan greatly disdains him.

In his whole life, he wished for nothing more than to have no connection whatsoever with this person.

The warm breeze of spring brushed by gently, the white gauze by the window fluttering like flowing clouds, filling the room with the slowly meandering fragrance of tea, increasingly ethereal, delighting the senses.

After thinking it over, Lun Chuan decisively switched to another phone and cut to a secondary number:

“Hello, I was referred by Lun Chuan, I’d like to buy another ten pounds of tea leaves, ten pounds of honey.”

Editors and readers, familiar author friends, and the interpersonal relations on mom’s side…

It’s not only for maintaining relationships but also to express gratitude for their sincerity.

Of course, he would never admit that he now regarded the tea leaves and honey he had at home as treasures, not willing to part with them to anyone else.

Not even a sniff.

Essentially, he still loved to hog it all to himself.

However, upon opening the empty freezer compartment again and finding that whether it was dumplings or frozen Milk Vetch, nothing was left now.

And thinking about what Song Tan had just said about those local specialties, wild vegetables, and bamboo shoots…

He closed the fridge door with an expressionless face, deciding to drink a cup of tea now, to calm down.

But as the fragrant tea slid over his tongue, his heart blazed with fire yet again. After pacing around the room twice, he couldn’t alleviate the feelings of regret.

Lun Chuan struggled to contain himself but eventually couldn’t help dropping his pride and embarrassment, tentatively asking with the secondary number:

“Are there really no more bamboo shoots?”

Song Tan was also taken aback when she saw the message: Was that lifesaver of a man so detailed in his introduction that he even told people about the sold-out items?

She replied earnestly and definitively, “Yes, they’re gone.”

Maybe with some more searching, another ten or twenty pounds could be found, but it really wasn’t necessary.

There was a lot of work at home; she couldn’t afford to be concerned with that anymore.

After some thought, she sent another message to Lun Chuan:

“Thank you for referring your friend. I made quite a bit of money from that last transaction. I’ll secretly send you five pounds of bamboo shoots, but please don’t tell your friend.”

Tea and honey, a business of one hundred and ten thousand, giving back five pounds of bamboo shoots to him… it seemed only right, didn’t it?

Meanwhile, Lun Chuan didn’t quite know what kind of expression to wear upon reading that message.

Indeed, for that country girl, the sense of camaraderie was more valuable than money.

Now, to say she had made a tidy sum… How much could she have earned? Farming in the countryside is not easy.

His heart grew even softer, instantly forgetting the incident of just now when the secondary number’s request for bamboo shoots was rejected. He quickly transferred the payment while struggling to rein in his own greed.

Truth be told, the girl was good in every way, just too straightforward—was it possible that five pounds of bamboo shoots wouldn’t be enough?

He could manage fifty pounds!

Worst case, he’d just buy another freezer, so whether it was dried shoots or bamboo shoot buns, or anything else, he could freeze them.

But at this moment, since she said she would send them for free, he had no choice but to swallow that sigh.

On one hand, he was looking forward to the taste of those five pounds of bamboo shoots, on the other hand, saddened that five pounds would hardly be enough to satisfy his appetite.

…

Lun Chuan’s melancholy and anticipation remained a mystery to others, while on this side, Song Tan had already called Zhang Yanping over with a hoe:

“Let’s go, Brother Yanping, let’s dig up some more bamboo shoots.”

“Dig up a good amount!” Seventh Uncle immediately shouted, “We’re making bamboo shoot buns tonight.”

Zhang Yanping was at a critical moment in a game, his hands were moving so fast they almost left afterimages: “Let Qiaoqiao handle it, I can’t be bothered right now.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Qiaoqiao charged back in with a bucket in tow:

“Qiaoqiao’s busy too!”

Then, holding up the empty bucket: “I need to get more food, there’s not enough for the piglets.”

With that, she stuffed wheat bran, rice chaff, the pile of water hyacinths fished out earlier, and some bamboo shoot peels that were neither too old nor too tender into the bucket.

Song Tan glanced over and thought to herself that these few pigs have only been Qiaoqiao’s responsibility for the past couple of days, weren’t they always fed by her dad before?

How could there not be enough?

It must be Qiaoqiao sneaking extra treats to King and Big White again.

This show of partiality made it clear that rotating responsibilities was a necessary move, otherwise, it’d look like she was playing favorites.

Moreover…

“Qiaoqiao,” she stared at the foolish child, “don’t always feed King these things.”

If its original owner knew, they’d cry again,

making it look like she was torturing the dog every day.

Little did they know how popular the water hyacinths from their pond had become! Big White took one sip and immediately wanted to dive in, tail up in the air, never to come out again.

Qiaoqiao hummed, “I only fed the piglets, I didn’t feed King.”

But her words didn’t carry much conviction; she probably did feed them a little.

Song Tan didn’t press the issue—even if the water hyacinths were tasty, could wheat bran and rice chaff be as appetizing as leftovers?

This half-heartedness wasn’t going to cut it, King probably wouldn’t endure it for long. Let her feed them if she wants, they’re worthless anyway.

Just then, Zhang Yanping’s in-game death sound was particularly noticeable.

Well then, time to move.

With a resigned sigh, he picked up the hoe and the basket: “Let’s go, let’s go dig up some bamboo shoots!”

While at home, he had packed on a solid layer of belly fat; if he didn’t get moving, once his mom saw him, she’d probably never let him enjoy village life again.

“By the way, didn’t you say we were stopping digging bamboo shoots? How come you want them again today?”

Song Tan shook her head: “A client introduced me to a ten-pound tea deal, and I promised him five pounds of bamboo shoots.”

Holy shit!!!

Zhang Yanping’s eyes bulged: “Who exactly has the connections, you or me? Asking casually for ten pounds of tea that costs eleven thousand per pound!”

Damn it, why aren’t such cash cows in his contact list?

“Wait!” he asked again: “You’re pricing your Yuqian Tea and the teas picked earlier at the same rate? You don’t even bother to screen them!”

Normally, when processing tea leaves, one would sift through the batches, sorting them into different grades of buds and leaves, with orderly pricing according to quality.

Song Tan kept it simple; she didn’t differentiate at all!

After all, to her, eleven thousand was easy to remember, and it was right on the baseline for price.

No need to raise it higher or lower it down, saving her so much hassle these days!

But this gave her an idea, “You’re right, always drinking the finest tips can get a bit dull. When summer comes, I’ll pick the bud and leaves. I’ll still charge the same price.”

Zhang Yanping was nearly jumping out of his skin—shocked at this daylight robbery—

Summer teas inherently carry a bitter edge, and are priced much lower. Among spring tea, summer tea, and White Dew Tea, it’s the summer tea that’s the cheapest and most undervalued, like it’s begging to be buried in the dirt.

Not to mention these were mere buds and leaves, even a bud attached to a couple of leaves would vary in price based on the number of leaves; the more leaves, the less valuable.

However, Song Tan had other plans: “A hint of bitterness in the fragrance, a more robust flavor in the tea, the ability to brew several times over, maybe there are those who’d like this taste!”

After all, tea keeps well, as long as it’s sold within a year, it’s fine.

With the current momentum, she had nothing to worry about!