Song Tan Jishi

  Chapter 11 11. Handling Seeds

  Early the next morning, Song Sancheng woke up together, and was taken aback for a while.

  The air... so fresh!

  I saw the mountains in the distance shrouded in clouds and mist, with a thin layer of golden light, which was as beautiful as the scenic spot.

  The pond at the entrance is even a layer of white mist, thick and thick, almost covering the entire water surface. The pressure of the mist was extremely low, and it was swimming slowly.

  As for the plum blossom tree around the yard, Song Sancheng clearly remembered that it had died last month, why did it bloom again today? The small yellow bones, half-opened, are not only very cute, but also have a delicate fragrance from afar.

  At this moment, the old farmer has a rare feeling of appreciating beauty, but he feels that something is wrong, as if he is also being admired...

  He turned his head and looked!

  I saw seven or eight local gray-haired squirrels pulling on the courtyard wall, looking towards the courtyard like paparazzi. Looking at the back mountain again, it is obviously a bleak scene just after the cold winter, but there is a feeling of new light.

   It's like... like polished!

  Song Sancheng stared blankly for a long time, and made himself happy with his thoughts: "Ah Choo!"

  It was too cold in the morning.

  He quickly put aside his messy thoughts, carried a pile of firewood and went to burn the stove.

   Alas, older men are hard-working, everyone is afraid of the cold, but he has to get up to start a fire.

  …

in the room.

  Song Tan slowly withdrew her divine consciousness, and the spiritual energy attracted around her body was transformed by her practice of water wood spirit method, and now it turned into more intense vitality and quietly scattered.

  The air inside and outside the house is fresh.

   And feeling the abundant aura in her body, she also let out a long sigh of relief—it can be considered that her body has almost recovered.

Song Tan went out of the room, after washing up, he took two weed stalks from the pile of firewood, tied them into a "ten" casually, and then squatted in the empty vegetable garden, holding the cross in his palms. , with the end slightly touching the ground—

   Then slightly closed his eyes, and said softly:

   "How is the savior now?"

  This is the Fushi.

  The ancient method that can be calculated like the Eight Diagrams of the Book of Changes has low requirements for spiritual energy, and many ordinary people with a little bit of spiritual skills can do it, and it is the only one that Song Tan, who is still in the stage of Qi training, can do.

  Of course, the entry threshold is low, and the calculation results are... a bit sloppy.

  …

  The man who saved her in the car accident, if it wasn't for him, even if she traveled back and repaired her body with aura, it would be difficult to save her in such an explosion.

  The memory is too messy, the aura conflicts with the physical injury, Song Tan only remembers the other party's dark brown eyes and thick eyelashes...

  She didn't ask about it in the hospital, but now that her aura has recovered a little, she naturally wanted to check it out as soon as possible.

  Cultivators value cause and effect, but she, Song Tan, values ​​kindness.

   Among other things, it is always possible to send some souvenirs.

  Dr. Zhang Yuan in the hospital was vague, and she always felt that something was wrong.

  Spirit surged, and the simple shaman pen under his hand was also slowly sliding in the moist soil in the morning. Song Tan opened his eyes, and saw a scattered line of answers on the ground:

"not dead"

  Song Tan: …

   She cracked.

   What kind of answer is this? No wonder no one in the Cangxuan Realm uses this method anymore!

  She was not reconciled, closed her eyes again and asked quietly, "Where is the savior?"

  The spiritual energy surged again, and finally a more scattered line of text was drawn out:

   "home"

  Song Tan is even more angry!

  She threw the crossgrass in her hand, and for the first time felt that metaphysics was useless. After thinking about it now, I simply sent another message to the doctor at Ning Provincial People's Hospital:

   "Doctor Zhang, please ask, how is the gentleman who saved me now? Is the transfer due to physical reasons? If yes, can you give me the contact information?"

   "For the life-saving grace, even if the other party doesn't need me to repay, I have to thank you personally."

   It took a long time to reply to the message: "Then let me ask for you again."

  …

  Winter mornings, when washing vegetables in the kitchen was freezing hands, Ulan simply cooked a big pot of dumplings. Look at Qiao Qiao again, like a top, serving dumplings for his sister for a while, and dumpling soup for his sister for a while...

  The husband and wife, one cooks the fire and the other cooks, and they serve and eat by themselves, self-reliant!

  Where is Song Tan?

  Da Lala sat on the chair, coaxing people with his mouth: "Jojo is so nice!"

   "Jojo is so good!"

   "My sister finished the dumpling soup served by Qiao Qiao in one gulp!"

  Ulan and Song San were silent.

  Silly son, what should we do?

   Out of sight, out of sight, Song Sancheng changed the subject with a "hmm":

   "Well, the farmer came this morning, so we should cook more at noon."

  Song Tan was curious: "Is it transported by a tractor?"

  Where is the tractor now?

   "Use a small tricycle."

  Song Tan:! !

  The land cultivator is small and can be transported on three wheels. Isn’t it a little contemptuous of it? Besides, can a tricycle go over mountains and ridges?

   But before she could figure it out, she heard the sound of a car on the road outside, so she went out to have a look, huh!

   It was indeed an old maroon tricycle, very much like a private tricycle on the roadside in Ning Province for moving and delivering goods.

  In the back bucket, which is not big but seems to be very big, with a maroon cultivator that is also not new, it is obviously ready to go to work.

   "Brother, where is the place? I'll go right away!"

   "Are you here so early? Have you eaten yet?"

  The two elders greeted each other, and walked towards the edge of the field amidst the roar of the tricycle.

  Here, Ulan was thinking about the dishes for lunch, and he didn’t forget to explain to his daughter:

"The tree fellers in the back mountain also found a lot of people. They just sawed off the too dense bowl-sized oak trees, on the one hand, to make room for a pigsty. On the other hand, you don't want to grow black fungus and white fungus. Is it? This trunk is just right for it."

  The money has been spent, and Ulan can only acquiesce in these plans. At this moment, he is in a calm mood:

   "I'll ask again, find someone to tear up the weeds in the chestnut forest on the hillside by the pond. Otherwise, it will affect the tremella planting."

   While muttering: "It's more expensive to hire people to talk about grass than to spray medicine..."

  Song Tan pretended to be a quail, since it was impossible to spray medicine anyway.

   However, pretending to be quail, Ulan stared at her again and said, "If you want to farm the land, you can't be idle. Let me deal with the seeds."

  Song Tan nodded quickly.

  Qiao Qiao was holding her own bowl, and just poked a big dumpling with her chopsticks, before she understood anything, she hurriedly said, "Sister! I'll help you!"

  —Ulan looked even angrier.

  …

  The seeds of milk vetch are quite simple to handle.

  Song Tan led Qiao Qiao to shovel two shovelfuls of sand from the outside to mix with milk vetch seeds and rub them vigorously—this can thin the thick shell and germinate faster.

   This kind of rubbing through the bag requires some strength, but also has a special kind of fun. Song Qiao laughed while rubbing, obviously very talented in doing farm work.

   Kneading is almost done, it is drying.

  Sun in the sun for a few hours, and then play in the water—ah no, just soak the seeds for half a day.

  Wait until noon, stir a few times, and then throw away those low-quality seeds that float up.

  The seeds are processed.

   After all, it is green manure. For so many years, everyone has used such rough planting methods. The only difference is that when soaking, Song Tan melted some spiritual energy into the water.

   Qiaoqiao looked at the seeds in half of the yard, and was very proud at the moment: "Sister, farming is really fun!"

   It's just that the arms are a little sore.

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  (end of this chapter)