TSWPF – Chapter 49 Untitled

The potato chicken stew that Li Qingling was making hadn’t even been taken off the stove yet, but the few children in the house, along with Ah Huang, were already standing at the doorway, staring straight at the big pot.

The look of longing in their eyes made Li Qingling both amused and exasperated.

After the household’s conditions improved, they usually ate meat every other day—they weren’t starving. So why did a simple potato chicken stew make them drool like this?

Little Liu Zhirou, being young and impatient, waddled into the kitchen with her short legs, wrapped her arms around Li Qingling’s calves, and lifted her head to look up at her. “Sister… smells so good… I want to eat…” She drooled as she spoke.

Li Qingling burst out laughing, bent down, picked Liu Zhirou up, wiped her drool, tapped her forehead affectionately, and said with a smile, “Little glutton, not yet! Wait a little longer!”

Sniffling, Liu Zhirou obediently nodded.

Seeing her so well-behaved, Li Qingling kissed her on the cheek, carried her to the kitchen doorway, and set her down. “Wait here with the boys, you’ll be able to eat soon.” Saying this, she turned back to the kitchen, lifted the pot lid, and stirred the potato chicken stew.

The aroma intensified, making the little gluttons at the doorway drool even more.

“If you don’t hurry, the doorway might be flooded,” Liu Zhimou said, glancing at the children. Smiling at Li Qingling, he admitted even he was struggling to resist the smell—it was just too tempting.

Li Qingling smiled and told him to increase the heat slightly. Once the sauce thickened, it would be ready.

Liu Zhimou added another handful of firewood. Li Qingling quickly stirred and reduced the sauce over high heat, then plated the stew.

Seeing that the children couldn’t wait any longer, she picked a piece of chicken for each of them to try first.

Of course, she didn’t forget Ah Huang—missing him out would have caused an uproar.

Li Qingling also quickly stir-fried some greens and finally said the words the children had been waiting for: “Time to eat.”

“Time to eat!” Liu Zhiyan licked his fingers, ran to wash his hands, and conscientiously brought a bowl and chopsticks to the table.

Liu Zhimou carried two plates of chicken to the table. Li Qingling brought the rice, served the children, gave Ah Huang some chicken, and finally everyone started eating.

Everyone ate until they were stuffed. Li Qingfeng slumped in his chair, rubbed his stomach, and said with satisfaction, “I wish we could eat like this every day.” Of course, he only thought it—eating meat every day wasn’t realistic. Still, chicken was a treat. “Sister, are there any potatoes left?” He thought the potatoes were the best thing he had ever eaten.

Seeing his expression, Li Qingling laughed again. “There are more potatoes in the field. If you want, you can dig some anytime. But eating potato chicken stew every day? That’s not going to happen. Later, I’ll make sure you get enough.” A little wish from her brother—how could she not help him realize it?

Li Qingfeng’s face flushed a little at her teasing. He hadn’t actually meant he wanted it every day.

“All right, no slouching in the chairs. Go out into the yard to walk off some food,” Li Qingling told the children, ushering them outside. She cleared the dishes while Liu Zhimou took them to the kitchen to wash.

Li Qingling leaned against the kitchen doorframe and watched him wash. “So, what do you think of the potatoes? Good, right?” The flavor of the chicken had soaked into the potatoes—they were naturally delicious.

Liu Zhimou washed the dishes efficiently and nodded sincerely. “Very tasty, and very filling.” He thought they could even eat potatoes as a meal. “How’s the survival rate of the potatoes? Can we plant more?” If they had more potatoes, they wouldn’t have to worry about food shortages.

Li Qingling really admired how clever Liu Zhimou was. She asked casually, and he could already think about the bigger picture—truly impressive.

“Potatoes aren’t picky about soil. They grow well even in sandy land.”

After putting the dishes away, Liu Zhimou washed his hands again and looked at Li Qingling with unprecedented seriousness. “Tell me, what’s your idea?” She wouldn’t bring up potatoes without a plan.

Talking to a smart person really saved time. Li Qingling shrugged. “Nothing big—just thinking about promoting potatoes.” In this era, many people went hungry. Since she had discovered this potato and could help others, why not?

He more or less guessed her intention. Hearing her confirm it, Liu Zhimou wasn’t surprised and nodded. “Then let’s go with your plan.” He paused, then added, “Tell the village head first. Anyone who wants to plant potatoes can buy seeds from us.” Giving them away for free was out of the question—they’d already endured too much unpaid hard work.

Li Qingling immediately understood. “Okay, let’s do it your way.” She smiled gently. “But we can’t announce it until next year, right? Too early now.” Most of the potatoes in the field would need to be kept for seeds anyway.

“Then wait until next year,” Liu Zhimou said, putting a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around, and gently pushing her out of the kitchen. “In half a month, we’ll need to harvest the rice. Do you want to hire people or do it yourselves?” Between the two families, they had four or five acres. Doing it themselves would take a long time.

“Hire people!” Li Qingling answered without hesitation. The children were too young to help. If she and Liu Zhimou did it alone, they’d be exhausted. Spending some money was much easier.

Liu Zhimou nodded in agreement. “Fine, hire people. Pay a little extra and don’t feed them.” He’d rather spend a few more coins than have Li Qingling cook three meals a day for others.

Li Qingling clearly thought the same and agreed. Not having to cook was perfect—it saved her effort.

Two days before the harvest, Liu Zhimou went to the village to find workers. Some villagers without much land were willing to do short-term labor.

Zeng Tietou was one of them. His ancestors hadn’t settled here, escaping famine to this village. With little land, he had to take short-term work.

As soon as he heard Liu Zhimou’s plan, he agreed immediately—20 coins a day was much better than other short jobs.

Liu Zhimou asked him to find another strong, hardworking man to help. This would speed things up.

Zeng Tietou patted his chest and promised to find someone reliable. Liu Zhimou trusted him and returned home.

Zeng Tietou finished his household chores the day before, and early the next morning brought a man named Li Qiang to Liu Zhimou’s house.

Liu Zhimou assessed Li Qiang, nodded, and led them both to the fields, showing them both his and Li Qingling’s plots. Once satisfied that they remembered, he returned home.

Li Qingling asked if she should go to the threshing ground to claim a spot.

There were no modern conveniences yet—threshing rice couldn’t be done with machines. Here, it had to be done by hand or with animals.

Liu Zhimou nodded, suggesting she stay home while he secured a spot.

Li Qingling thought that a teenage boy competing with a bunch of women would lose, so she insisted on going herself.

Seeing her determination, Liu Zhimou could only sigh and agree, warning her to be careful and avoid conflicts with the women.

Li Qingling acknowledged and went to the threshing ground. Half the area was already taken. Seeing the noisy crowd, she froze for a moment.

“Xiao Ling, Xiao Ling, over here,” Aunt Huang waved when she saw Li Qingling standing there.

Li Qingling smiled and walked over. “Aunt Huang.”

“This spot is free. Stay here—you’ll have company,” Aunt Huang said, pointing to the empty space beside her so Li Qingling could guard it.

Li Qingling sincerely thanked her. Without Aunt Huang’s call, she would have been lost.

Aunt Huang waved it off. “No need to be polite.” Li Qingling had already earned money with her, so she’d help. “Are you alone?” She looked at Li Qingling’s small frame, doubting she could move the heavy rice mill.

“Yes, just me,” Li Qingling replied. “When’s your turn?” There was only one mill in the village—how long would the line be for so many people?

Aunt Huang pointed ahead, sighing. “Still early. Look, a long line is already waiting. We’ll have to wait until they finish.” Every harvest, the queue was exhausting.

Li Qingling sighed inwardly. So many people—how long would it take? She suddenly missed modern threshers, which could instantly separate rice grains.