Chapter 53
On the second day after the Bee Clan’s general assembly, the worker bees gradually left to go to work. On the third day, the queen bee and his partner flew off to the filming location of the “Farming Dream Team” variety show.
The director was afraid of heatstroke too, so he chose a place where the highest temperature in September would not exceed 35°C.
A van dropped them off in front of a vast stretch of land. Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao got out with their suitcases. The ground beneath their feet was cloddy—clearly, it hadn’t rained locally for quite some time.
Lu Xiao frowned. Drought? That made farming much harder.
There were seven people in the farming group, each working independently, so there was no gathering to speak of—once you arrived, you got to work.
[Such a plain, no-frills variety show.]
[Take off those sunglasses and put on straw hats.]
Meng Xueyuan looked at a familiar cameraman. “You switched jobs too?”
The skinny cameraman said, “Yeah. I managed to become Director Jiang Mumu’s go-to cameraman.”
Lu Xiao talked business with him. “When we hold our wedding, we’ll need you to shoot it. Send me your quote on WeChat.”
Cameraman: “Sure—ah, the guide is here.”
The guide was one of the guests, responsible for leading them around.
Meng Xueyuan looked at the person waving to them—Jiang Xunbai. “It’s you.”
After one episode, Jiang Xunbai had gotten a bit tanner, but he looked much more spirited. He said, “Yep, it’s me. I realized that if I want to eat meat, I still have to rely on my own hands!”
Relying on men would leave you hungry nine times out of ten—Lu Xiao excepted.
After crying and being exhausted, he could no longer even remember his ex.
This variety show aside, the director would absolutely not let irrelevant people in.
Jiang Xunbai handed a small booklet to Meng Xueyuan. “You’ll inherit the previous guest’s fields and chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep. The details are all in there.”
Lu Xiao flipped open his own booklet. “One mu of cornfield, one mu of peanut field, 0.3 mu of vegetable plot, one fish pond, three lambs, five hens, five roosters, and four geese.”
Meng Xueyuan said, “My fields are the same as Lu Xiao’s. The differences are: no fish pond, one pregnant cow, three black pigs, and ten ducks.”
Jiang Xunbai said, “Each episode adds a new patch of wasteland to be reclaimed. You decide what to plant, but it must sprout before the episode ends.”
“Daily tasks: feed the livestock, weed, and control pests. Oh, and we don’t provide feed—you have to cook chicken and duck feed yourselves.”
As he spoke, Jiang Xunbai pointed to the fields along the roadside. “They all have signposts—easy to identify.”
Lu Xiao had always known a mu of land was big; now it felt even bigger.
Even without rain, the peanut leaves had developed yellow spots, while the weeds grew tenaciously.
They were led to a small, single-story house—this would be their temporary residence.
Lu Xiao was just about to go in and settle their luggage when the director’s voice came over the broadcast:
“Dear new farmers, during our break the land has become very dry. The production team spent a large sum to divert a water channel from upstream. We did our best, but the water volume is still limited. We’re opening the channel now—dig your own ditches to guide the water to your fields.”
At this, Jiang Xunbai took off running. “I’m going to dig! My sweet potato field is about to die of thirst!”
Lu Xiao and Meng Xueyuan looked at each other—their peanut field was about to die of thirst too.
Lu Xiao hurriedly pushed the luggage inside and turned back to look for hoes.
“Wife, I’ll dig two ditches. You rest first.”
Meng Xueyuan said, “No. I’ll dig myself.”
Each grabbed a hoe and ran.
Sun hats and UV-protective clothing were practically celebrity essentials. The seven artists, hoes in hand, were like blood-scenting leopards, staring straight at a small water channel.
Taking the channel’s outlet as the center point, each person headed in a different direction, eventually forming seven radial ditches.
Whoever dug deeper would get more water.
Seeing Lu Xiao, the others felt a strong sense of crisis. Without time for pleasantries, they began opening channels near the water source, leaving a strip of soil to be dug through after everything else was ready.
After two swings, Lu Xiao dug a deep pit. “I’ll help you get started.”
[Bro, why don’t you just finish it for him.]
[Meng Xueyuan isn’t moving at all.]
[Noticed it—seven people but only six livestream rooms. The non-celebrity doesn’t have a dedicated cameraman; he can only show up in others’ shots.]
[Too plain, too plain! Director, give us something spicy—I want to see Lu Xiao dig with eight-pack abs!]
[Meng Xueyuan says no.]
Meng Xueyuan stood to one side, leaning on his hoe, allowing Lu Xiao to lay the foundation with a starter pit. Then he flexed his fingers, gripped the handle, and began digging stroke by stroke.
Lu Xiao watched him uneasily for a while. “Wife, are you tired?”
“Not really.”
“Are you hot? Want me to hold an umbrella for you here?”
“Not hot. I’m wearing a hat.”
Lu Xiao said, “The water bottle’s on the ground—remember to take a sip every ten minutes.”
Meng Xueyuan said, “Go dig your own.”
Lu Xiao walked off, looking back every few steps, and disappeared from Meng Xueyuan’s frame.
[Lu Xiao, please respect the fact that your wife is an adult.]
The cameraman shifted slightly so he could clearly capture Meng Xueyuan while also including a small shot of Lu Xiao’s back.
Meng Xueyuan dug at a steady pace—not faster than the other groups.
[This is what putting on a show looks like. I bet Lu Xiao will come back to help him in ten minutes.]
[Hey, non-celebrity bro, come back and help your wife—let us see your face too.]
[Called it—Lu Xiao’s back again, right at the ten-minute mark.]
Lu Xiao had dug a two-meter trench on his side. He ran over, watched Meng Xueyuan for a bit in case he felt unwell, reminded him to drink water again, then turned back.
[And he just leaves???]
When Meng Xueyuan had dug two meters, the comments were full of “vase—go do indoor variety shows.” At ten meters, the doubts died down. At twenty meters, the comments were a wall of “666.”
[I’ve realized Meng Xueyuan really knows how to farm. His explosive strength is average, so he wasn’t fast at the start, but he barely stops to rest. The group next door has already sat down to rest several times.]
[Who said he was a vase? I’m watching on the TV at home—my mom sat next to me and compared me to him for a full hour, wuwuwu.]
[Same here…]
[Yuan-yuan, aren’t your arms sore? Put the hoe down and rest a bit. Everyone else is resting.]
The cameraman relayed the fans’ concern. Meng Xueyuan raised his head, his lashes damp and beaded with sweat. “I’m okay. I also want the peanuts to drink water as soon as possible.”
Meng Xueyuan’s fields were farther away, but he finished digging almost at the same time as everyone else.
Lu Xiao was the first to connect his ditch—though he existed only as a background figure in others’ shots.
[So nice—you can see the capitalist digging no matter which livestream you watch.]
[Everyone else has opened their channels! Yuan-yuan, hurry! The water’s all being taken!]
[Seven people sharing this little water, and it’s time-limited to 30 hours. In our village, people would be fighting over it.]
When Meng Xueyuan returned to the source and was about to break through the last bit of soil, he hesitated. He put down the hoe and ran back to the house to fetch a roll of plastic sheeting about a meter wide.
He’d glimpsed it in the tool shed when grabbing the hoe.
In water-scarce soil, infiltration losses are huge. With limited total water, losses along the way had to be minimized.
Lu Xiao reacted and went over to help him unroll the plastic sheet.
Meng Xueyuan held one end while Lu Xiao ran quickly with the roll, lining the bottom and sides of the entire ditch. They pressed the edges down with clods of earth.
Only then did Meng Xueyuan dig through the final strip of soil. A thin stream of water surged in, flowing smoothly and with almost no loss all the way to the peanut field.
Lu Xiao turned back, blocked his own channel, did the same setup, then redirected the water again.
The other groups looked at their own ditches—which had been drawing water early but were still only wet halfway down. “…”
You could do it like this?
Director: “Congratulations to Meng Xueyuan for discovering a use for plastic sheeting. You’ve earned a Farming Black-Tech Card. Open it after dinner. The production team will regularly replenish supplies in your tool sheds—whether you know how to use them is up to you.”
Meng Xueyuan received a black envelope, looked at it, and said to Lu Xiao, “Could it be a tractor experience voucher?”
Lu Xiao said, “I can drive.” They happened to have a patch of wasteland to reclaim.
The young couple were full of anticipation for the tractor.
Meng Xueyuan said, “To irrigate one mu at this water volume will probably take two days. Let’s head back first.”
The show provided boxed meals, but they weren’t very tasty. Lu Xiao was about to go cook when Meng Xueyuan stopped him. “Let’s just eat. We’re too tired from working today.”
Lu Xiao sat down and helped his wife massage and relax his arms. Digging was no easy task—the soil was hard, and every swing took effort. Later, he’d turned back and helped Meng Xueyuan deepen the ditch by ten centimeters, but overall his wife had done it himself—digging for a full two hours.
After dinner, Meng Xueyuan opened the black envelope. There was nothing inside—just one sentence.
[Farming doesn’t play by the rules.]
He flipped it over and over and only saw that one line. Where was his tractor?
“What does this mean? What kind of black tech is this?”
Lu Xiao’s mind turned quickly. “It means we can play dirty?”
Meng Xueyuan: “Huh?”
“I get it. Wife, wait at home.” Lu Xiao grabbed a hoe at the door and left.
Uneasy, Meng Xueyuan followed.
They saw Lu Xiao go to the water source, dig up a big clod of earth, and—bang—block the other people’s channels. All the water immediately flowed into his and Meng Xueyuan’s ditch, rushing loudly.
Meng Xueyuan: “……”
[The capitalist’s heart is filthy.]
[They really do seem like people who’ve farmed before. When our fields needed water, my dad used to send me to guard the canal at midnight, afraid others would intercept it in the middle of the night.]
Meng Xueyuan said, “Isn’t this bad?”
Lu Xiao said, “Believe it or not, the production team will hint that others should do the same.”
Meng Xueyuan fell silent. The director really wasn’t afraid of sparking village brawls. “Then should we stay here to guard it?”
Lu Xiao said, “No need. Getting a one-hour head start is enough. Let’s go back and shower.”
That night, under the cover of darkness, when others—prompted by the director—rushed to their fields with hoes, Lu Xiao was already sleeping soundly, holding his wife.
Of course, before sleeping, the combined total of 31 head of livestock belonging to Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao had to be fed.
After dinner, the two of them had to cook feed for the animals.
Old rice, mixed grains, broken rice, leftover vegetables and rice from dinner, old leaves from the fields—all chopped up and stewed together in one pot, cooking a full day’s worth at a time.
In front of the cameras, you’re not supposed to play on your phone—the audience isn’t there to watch you stare at a screen. That rule drove away many people. But Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao didn’t want to use their phones at all. This was exactly the life they’d imagined: poor as dirt, but glued together every day.
The firelight in the stove flickered across their faces. The foreheads they’d just wiped were already beading with sweat again.
Lu Xiao said, “Go inside and enjoy the air conditioning. You insist on sitting here.”
Meng Xueyuan sniffed. “It smells so good. The chickens and ducks will definitely love it.”
Lu Xiao looked at the huge pot of pig feed. “‘Smells good’?”
Meng Xueyuan said, “No seasonings—just the pure aroma of grains.”
Lu Xiao said, “Working really does make you hungry. If I’d known earlier…”
Meng Xueyuan said, “We can’t use feed, and cooking every day is too much trouble. Let’s take turns.”
Lu Xiao said, “No.”
Meng Xueyuan said, “But—” That was three meals a day for 31 mouths.
Lu Xiao took off both their microphones and said, “Feeling sorry for me cooking? Then let’s not have kids in the future. I’ll just feed you.”
Meng Xueyuan’s cheeks heated up. “…What do you mean, have or not have?” Whether they even could was another matter.
Lu Xiao was serious. “Wife, does your clan have any contraception methods? I don’t want you to go into pseudopregnancy.”
He fretted, “You have a spermatheca—just me getting a vasectomy wouldn’t help.”
Meng Xueyuan answered honestly. “Yes. I just won’t drink royal jelly.”
Lu Xiao was startled. Meng Xueyuan had brought royal jelly with him this time too. “Baby, have you been drinking it because you want to get pregnant with my baby?”
Meng Xueyuan blushed scarlet. “You really dare to say anything now.”
