I am a primitive

At the place where the rice seedlings were planted, Han Cheng, the second senior brother and others had already arched 'bows' on the ground one by one with sticks that were not too thick.

These rice seedlings are growing very well, with some dark green, they look very strong and full of nutrients.

The seedlings planted by the two different methods look similar, but it is hard to tell which method is better.

But one thing is certain is that the seedlings cultivated by these two methods will definitely grow better than directly spreading the shelled rice in the paddy field.

Looking at the emerald green seedlings in front of him, Han Cheng's mood became very good, which can be described as beautiful enough to fly.

After looking at the seedlings here for a while, and carefully pulling out a few weeds mixed in the seedlings, Han Cheng left here with his hands behind his back, and walked towards the east side of Jinguan City.

Because everyone has been working on the development of the paddy fields on the west side, there is basically no development on the east side of Jinguan City.

But time will not be idle here.

After all the relatively easy-to-develop waters around here have been developed, Han Chenggong plans to have some canals built to guide some water here.

But in time, this place can also become a rice field and grow rice.

Because it is not too far away from the water, the amount of this project will not be too large.

In fact, a piece of land has been opened up here, the area is not too large, about an acre or more.

The land was also cultivated.

Different from the flat paddy fields, there are trenches dug here.

There is nothing else, and what is buried in these ridges are sweet millet stalks that have been cut into pieces.

Such a good thing that can produce a lot of sugar, Han Cheng has not forgotten that last autumn, he had someone cut off the mature sweet millet stalks across the water.

A small number of people who went to the tribe practiced their teeth, and the rest dug the cellar and stored it in the cellar, covered with some sand.

When spring comes, some buds grow on these sweet millet stalks.

When most of the people were busy working on the paddy field, Han Cheng called out some people to spend two days burying the sweet millet stalks in the ground according to some methods in his memory.

At this time, rows of shoots grew along the long lines, some of them looked like sorghum, and some of them looked like corn...

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"Swipe~swipe..."

Han Cheng and a few other people who have been following him to serve these seedlings these days scooped up the water in the jar with a ladle and poured it on the growing seedlings one by one.

I don't know if it's because the racial talent of farming in the blood is at work, Han Cheng, who didn't have much contact with farm work in the later generations, has become fond of contacting the land now.

Watching the sprinkled seeds slowly break out of their shells under his care, sprouting sprouts, watching these sprouts grow up slowly, and finally bearing fruit, he couldn't help feeling is joy.

Of course, there is a premise that he should not be allowed to plant on a large scale.

Once planted on a large scale, this kind of thing can no longer be enjoyed, but will become a kind of torture.

At this time, it was already the time when the sun was setting in the west, and as the sun gradually moved away, the temperature was slowly dropping.

After watering the seedlings, Han Chengcheng and the others picked up the grass fences placed aside, and covered the seedlings one by one.

Because of the existence of bows made of sticks, the covered grass thatch will not press the seedlings.

This is a means of keeping the seedlings warm.

Originally, it would be best to cover it with an airtight plastic sheet, but there is no such high-tech thing in the tribe, so it can only be replaced by such a thing.

Although the effect is far inferior to the plastic sheet, it is still somewhat useful, and it is better than no cover.

After completing these tasks, it was almost dark, and there was smoke rising from the Jinguan City, which seemed to merge with the dusk. This was where some women who had returned from the fields in advance were cooking.

The people who were working in the fields in the distance were also carrying tools at this time, and rushed from the fields to the tribe.

As they walked, they chatted casually, enjoying this moment of leisure and tranquility.

Han Cheng straightened his waist, looked around, and only felt that everything in sight could be included in the painting...

At night, a bonfire was lit in a room in Jinguan City, and a circle of children sat around the bonfire.

These children held their textbooks in their hands, and with the help of the firelight, they followed Han Cheng, the son of god and the principal of Qingque School, to read the texts in the textbooks seriously.

After teaching several times in a row, Han Chengcheng lit a fire near the middle of the room, and asked the children to return to their seats to read the text aloud. Those who could read the whole body began to learn to write the text. You can also choose to recite the text.

As for Han Cheng, the god son, he got a moment of leisure.

He brought a broken earthen jar from the side, put it on top of the brazier, then took out two handfuls of soybeans from his pocket and put them on it, and began to simmer the soybeans slowly over the fire.

After a while, the aroma of fried soybeans permeated the room.

The sound of reading in the room became quieter. Some children sniffed their noses vigorously, and secretly aimed their eyes at Han Cheng, who lowered his head and simmered soybeans seriously.

Some people couldn't help swallowing a mouthful of saliva.

Regarding this, Han Cheng didn't pay attention to it, as if he didn't notice it, he just lowered his head and simmered his soybeans seriously.

The sound of reading in the room only dropped for a moment, and soon became louder again, louder than before.

In the sound of reading, Han Cheng also simmered the soybeans.

He used two sticks to support the two sides of the broken earthen jar, and transferred it from the brazier to the ground to cool it down.

After waiting for a while, the soybeans became cold. I took one and put it in my mouth, and chewed it with my big teeth. With a crunching sound, my mouth was full of burnt aroma.

If you put a small bowl of wine by your side, bring it up to your mouth and take a few sips, it will be even more wonderful.

When Han Cheng was in school, the teacher always had to guard against students eating snacks in class.

Now it was his turn to be the teacher himself, the students below would not eat snacks in class, instead he, the teacher, ate here openly.

Seeing Han Cheng slowly throwing soybeans into his mouth, these children who were studying became more energetic in their reading. Two of them had already buckled the textbooks in their hands on the desk made of mud, trying to Recited.

When Han Cheng casually ate the No.20 three fried soybeans, a child from the tribe came to Han Cheng with a book in his hand, muttering words as he walked.

Han Cheng took the textbook from his hand, and the child immediately began to recite it.

Han Cheng looked at the textbook in his hand, and when the child finished reciting it in one breath, he nodded in satisfaction, picked up the red pen, and wrote the word 'recite' on it.

Then he took out twenty fried soybeans from the broken crock beside him.

The child took the book, tucked it under his arm, stretched out his hands to hold the soybeans that Han Cheng gave him, trotted back to his seat with an excited expression on his face, and then, under the envious eyes of everyone, picked up a soybean The soybeans were put into the mouth, and I ate them with a click, like eating an elixir, not to mention the satisfaction.

At such a scene, many people watching couldn't help swallowing a mouthful of saliva, and then the sound of reading in the room suddenly became louder and louder.