Siheyuan: Bringing Warehouses to 1959

Old Man Yang and Zeng Wangcai were talking about different points. As for military merit, Old Man Yang was a man who had lived through the war, so he would naturally consider it from the combat level. Moreover, Zeng Wangcai's meritorious service this time was also in combat.

However, the outstanding contributions mentioned by Zeng Wangcai meet the conditions for meritorious service.

"I warn you, ideological work is not easy to do. Don't fool the soldiers, otherwise you will suffer." Old man Yang advised earnestly.

"I'm really not kidding you!" Zeng Wangcai said truthfully, "You may not have understood the farming issue that day, or you may have thought I was just wishful thinking, but I am serious. I want to complete the two-year task target this time."

"Two years? Wait a minute, let me think it over." Old Man Yang felt that his brain was not enough, and he muttered, "Ten thousand a month, one hundred and twenty thousand a year, two hundred and forty thousand in two years.

"Even if your crops are high-yielding, with an average yield of 1,000 catties per mu and 10,000 catties per 10 mu, even if we give you our full support, you only have about 20 people after all, and one person can only manage 5 mu of land, no more. You can probably plant about 120 mu, which is only 120,000 catties per season. Where did the 240,000 catties come from?"

Old man Yang felt that his calculation was already too high, because according to the current situation, a yield of 1,000 kilograms per mu could not be guaranteed.

Moreover, even if a tractor is used, it is still difficult for one person to manage five acres of land.

Therefore, Old Man Yang did not think that Zeng Wangcai’s people could produce 240,000 kilograms of grain in one season.

"Don't calculate anymore!" Zeng Wangcai's scalp was numb from the calculations made by Old Man Yang. "Farming is not a simple arithmetic. How can you calculate like this?"

Damn it, he is here to teach me a lesson?

Old Man Yang said unhappily, "You are just using this to educate the soldiers? Are you planning to use this to gain merit?"

"Yes!" Zeng Wangcai asked naturally, "Let's put it this way. If our twenty or so soldiers, not counting the twelve of us, produce enough crops in one season to complete our platoon's two-year target, is that an outstanding contribution? Can we get meritorious service?"

"If these twenty or so people can produce 240,000 kilograms of grain in half a year, it will be a great achievement." Old Man Yang said confidently, "Not only will it be a great achievement, but if the model can be promoted, it will be a blessing."

promotion?

Zeng Wangcai moved his lips and said, "This may not be easy to promote. After all, fertilizer is not easy to solve."

Resources determine everything. Zeng Wangcai doesn’t want to promote it, but he doesn’t want to be responsible for it himself.

Fertilizers, machines, and some other things he secretly modified could not be popularized.

"It's too early to say that now. Tell me, what is your expected yield per mu?" Old man Yang was in high spirits.

Originally, Old Man Yang thought Zeng Wangcai was daydreaming, but when he thought about how Zeng Wangcai had often given him surprises, he felt that he could look forward to it.

After all, it is not difficult to produce 1,000 kilograms per mu according to the several crops prepared by Zeng Wangcai.

"My expectation is..." Zeng Wangcai stretched out three fingers a little nervously.

To be honest, Zeng Wangcai doesn't know how to farm. He is just a keyboard warrior in this area. He gets all the information from Baidu using his computer in his space.

But there are problems here. First of all, Baidu is unreliable, as everyone knows. Secondly, it is impossible to find out the yield per acre of land in the past due to the passage of time.

(Note: This is true. I can’t find much information. If it’s not rigorous, you can slap me in the face with your love power!)

So, he gave a lower limit of his expectations.

"Three thousand kilograms? Are you kidding me?" Old Man Yang said in a lost voice.

It seems that exaggerating the per-mu yield is a pain point in Old Man Yang's heart, otherwise he would not have lost his composure.

"What three thousand pounds? You must have seen it wrong!" Zeng Wangcai immediately retracted a finger.

"Two thousand kilograms?" Old man Yang stared.

"More?" Zeng Wangcai was nervous and tried, bending his second finger halfway.

"No, what do you mean? One and a half fingers means 1,500 kilograms?" Old man Yang was annoyed by Zeng Wangcai. "We are talking about the yield per mu of land. Are you doing addition and subtraction for me? You are playing with skewers, subtracting one and a half fingers?

"Tell me the truth, what do you think?"

"Commander, uncle, please stop asking, okay?" Zeng Wangcai couldn't hold it in any longer and said with a playful smile, "I have never farmed before, so how can I dare to say so much now? You will see the result when the time comes. If the result is good, you will reward me with food, but if the result is not good, please go easy on me."

"Get lost! Do you think we are a team of idiots?" Old Man Yang pretended to be angry and scolded, "Yes, it is, and no, it is not. You are still bargaining. If you can produce 1,000 catties per mu, I will consider it as passing the test and you win the bet."

Zeng Wangcai breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't guarantee 5,000 kilograms, but 1,000 kilograms would be no problem.

This conversation aroused some expectations in Old Man Yang about what Zeng Wangcai was doing and the per-acre yield of his land.

People are at different levels and have different concerns.

Ordinary people care about whether they live well and whether they can have enough to eat, but at present, the top leaders are most concerned about whether the people can have enough to eat.

There is no doubt about this. Today's bigwigs are people who have experienced hardships, which is very different from later generations.

Zeng Wangcai himself also has great expectations for this farming trip because he also has a need for food.

There are so many people in the family, it is impossible for them to eat only meat. Not to mention the issue of whether it is eye-catching or not, it is unbearable to eat only meat.

He will ask his second uncle and Xiaohu to help with farming later. According to the previous agreement, when there is a good harvest, they will share some food to help the family get through the most difficult year.

......

It’s not even July yet, not a hot month, but the city is already like a furnace, even hotter than last year.

The sun was scorching the Forbidden City, and the glazed tiles of the Forbidden City were emitting golden light, like a Buddhist palace. If these were not enough to explain how hot the Forbidden City was, then the wilted leaves of the locust trees in the city could more intuitively show the difference of this year.

It was around three or four in the afternoon, and there were not many people on the street. Even the business of selling big bowls of tea was not good.

Yan Bugui was holding a cloth bag in his hand, his face was covered in grease and sweat, and his glasses kept slipping down because of the grease and sweat.

He pushed his glasses and walked quickly, worried that if he went too late, he would not be able to buy the food he wanted at the grain station.

The big issue of selling grain has risen to the top priority of almost every family. At first, Yan Bugui confidently let his wife buy it, but then something happened that made him change his mind.

Around May, a female comrade went to the grain station to buy grain. When she arrived, she found that ten kilograms of grain coupons were lost. The woman was so anxious that she looked for it but couldn't find it. In a fit of anxiety, she tried to commit suicide and hit herself to death on the electric pole in front of the grain station.

The third aunt came back and told this story. From then on, Yan Bugui no longer allowed the third aunt to buy food.

Arriving at the grain station, Yan Bugui waited in line for a while. When there was still one person in front of him, he looked around and found that no one was paying attention. Then he stealthily reached into his trouser pocket.

He has a secret pocket inside his trouser pocket, where he keeps his valuables.

Taking out a piece of cloth from the secret pocket, Yan Bugui carefully opened the cloth and took out the food coupons and banknotes.

The timing was just right, and as soon as the food was taken out, it was his turn: "Comrade, ten kilograms of mixed noodles..."

Mixed flour is the main food of Yan Bugui's family, or most families. Two-grain flour and corn flour have become good grains. As for white flour, who cares about it unless it is a festival or a festival?

After buying the food, Yan Bugui held the bag tightly to his chest, fearing that someone would snatch it away.

Don't think that Yan Bugui is making a big deal out of nothing. He was very hungry and there was nothing he could do.

When Yan Bugui returned to the courtyard, he saw Xu Damao, who had not been seen for a long time, standing at the door of Zeng's house, holding a net bag and stuffing it into Chen Yumei's hands. Inside the net bag was a net bag of sweet potatoes...