Raising chickens and pigs and digging for wild vegetables, the county magistrate's promotion wa

Chapter 12 Grass, more than just one plant

"Have you castrated the piglets you collected for the county magistrate?"

"Does anyone in your village know how to castrate pigs?"

Upon learning that the two piglets collected by the two neighborhood chiefs in the east of the city had not yet been castrated, Lame Wu immediately became anxious: "Where is the pig castrator? Do you know where there is a pig castrator who can castrate pigs?"

Only after the two village chiefs repeatedly assured him that the pig castrator would arrive in three days did Lame Wu finally feel relieved. He then rushed back to report to Yang Shaofeng: "Your Excellency, the two village chiefs said the piglets are still too young, and the search was rushed, so they haven't had time to castrate them yet. But don't worry, the two village chiefs said that there is a pig castrator in the east of the city, and they have already arranged with the pig castrator that he will come in three days."

It's relatively small, and the pig castrator will come to castrate it three days later?

After a little thought, Yang Shaofeng roughly understood what was going on.

To put it bluntly, even with the technology available in the Ming Dynasty, pig castrators cannot guarantee a 100% survival rate every time. Both the castration process and postoperative wound infections can lead to the death of piglets.

For sellers of piglets, castration is a risky cost. If the castration fails, it's fine, since the castrator will lose money. But if the castration is successful, the seller has to pay the castrator's wages, and passing that cost on to the buyer will cause the price of piglets to rise. It's better not to castrate at all, thus avoiding unnecessary risks.

For pig castrators, the process of reselling piglets is essentially a process of changing the piglets' living environment. Without allowing the piglets three to five days to adapt to the environment, the risk of failure in castration increases significantly. If the piglets die during castration, the pig castrator not only fails to receive payment but also incurs losses, making it a very unprofitable endeavor.

This led to an unspoken rule: sellers do not castrate piglets before selling them, and buyers wait three to five days after purchasing the piglets to confirm their health before hiring a castrator to castrate them.

It wasn't exactly scheming, just a little bit of survival wisdom.

With a smile and a shake of his head, Yang Shaofeng simply put the matter of castrating the pigs aside. After giving a few instructions to the carpenters and the strong women, he smiled and said to Lame Wu, "Let's go outside the city and see how their land reclamation is going."

When Yang Shaofeng arrived at the west side of Ningyang County, the fields were bustling with activity.

In the distance, dozens of strong women were wielding sickles, cutting down the waist-high weeds at the roots. Once they had cut enough, a group of children around ten years old would gather the weeds together and carry them to the edge of the field. If they hadn't cut enough, the children would run around like crazy, seemingly unaware of fatigue.

A little further away from the women, the young men, shirtless, were turning the soil with hoes. Every now and then, someone would loudly tell a joke or a slightly risqué story, which would be met with bursts of malicious laughter from the young men. Some of the women cutting grass in front of them would lower their heads shyly, some would smile knowingly, and some with a fiery temper would directly curse. The young men didn't seem to mind and instead became even more enthusiastic.

At the edge of the field, some elderly people who had difficulty walking sat in twos and threes chatting, while their hands were busy. Some sorted the wild grass that the children had brought out, while others braided the wild grass into ropes and handed the ropes to some women who looked thinner, so that they could bundle the sorted wild grass into bundles.

Under a few large trees in the distance, a dozen older girls were looking after a group of naked toddlers who were only one or two years old. A group of three- to five-year-old children were playing and frolicking nearby. No one cared which naked toddler belonged to which family, since they were all neighbors. The girls would coax one to another and tease the other, and every now and then a burst of silvery laughter would ring out.

When Yang Shaofeng's figure appeared in the distance, the scene of spring plowing in February seemed to be paused. Whether it was the young and strong men in the fields or the robust women, whether it was the elderly who had difficulty walking or the children running around wildly, they all swarmed around Yang Shaofeng, shouting, "The master is here! The master is here!"

Even the girls who were looking after the naked babies gathered around. Some of the girls were holding sleeping infants in their arms. They were awakened by the crowd shouting "Master!" and the babies started crying loudly. In addition, the young and old people were intentionally or unintentionally trying to let Yang Shaofeng see the babies. The scene looked more like a group of girls holding babies pointing out the scumbag, and the scumbag being attacked by the girls' family members.

Yang Shaofeng dismounted early, greeted the crowd with a smile, touched the wailing babies, and said directly, "Go back to what you were doing. Even if you call me 'Master' a thousand times or ten thousand times, I won't give you a single grain of food. If you want to eat your fill, you'd better farm the land well."

The crowd burst into laughter, and the young and strong women dispersed one after another. Those who were supposed to cut grass continued to cut grass, those who were supposed to hoe the ground continued to hoe the ground, and those who were supposed to look after the naked babies continued to look after the naked babies. Even the old people dispersed in twos and threes, leaving only the village headman by Yang Shaofeng's side.

Yang Shaofeng glanced at the robust women and young men busy in the field, then at the old man continuing to sort the weeds at the edge of the field, and asked, "What are you doing? Could there be some medicinal herbs among them that you can sell for money?"

The village head chuckled and said, "You jest, sir. Whether there are any herbs in here is another matter. Even if there are, none of us would recognize them."

"They separated these grasses because they thought that since the master wanted to raise chickens and pigs, and we couldn't help much, we might as well pick out the grasses that could be used to feed the chickens and pigs and send them to the master later."

"The rest of the meat that can't be fed to chickens or pigs will be divided among the families. After drying it, it can be used as kindling."

Yang Shaofeng nodded and asked, "So, after we finish weeding, what do you plan to plant?"

The village head glanced at Yang Shaofeng discreetly and tentatively asked, "What does the master think is a good plant?"

Yang Shaofeng glared at the village head and snorted coldly, "From the day I was born until now, I have never touched a hoe once in my entire life. You, who have been farming all your life, ask me what to plant? Just tell me what you plan to plant. I don't care how you plant it."

The village head chuckled again: "Your Excellency, this land has been barren for a year, and it's almost March, so there's no time to plant wheat. Therefore, we plan to plant some beans."

Beans are a wonderful thing. They can fertilize the soil, produce edible beans, and their dried stems and leaves are excellent kindling. More importantly, beans can be pressed for oil, and the leftover bean pulp can be made into bean cakes. You could say that every part of the bean is a treasure.

Just as Yang Shaofeng was secretly pondering the benefits of planting soybeans, Lame Wu suddenly came over, pulled Yang Shaofeng aside, and said, "Your Excellency, these grasses... are not just grasses."

Yang Shaofeng was slightly taken aback and asked, "Not grass? If this thing isn't grass, could it be money?"

Limpy Five chuckled and whispered, "This thing could actually be money."