Her Cultivation Diary
Chapter 1019 - 999. Brotherly Love

Chapter 1019: 999. Brotherly Love

The two kids were whispering with their own thoughts while Song Tan leisurely arranged the items one by one. Then she stepped back and said, "Qiaoqiao, come cut the strawberries."

Yang Zhengxi saw Song Tan open the box and immediately volunteered, "Let me do it! You guys don’t need to be so meticulous. I saw that in other strawberry exhibit areas, they didn’t even remove the stems... huh? Really cutting them?"

Qiaoqiao had already gripped the small fruit knife in her hand.

She glanced at him doubtfully and said, "They need to be cut. Our white strawberries are so big; if we don’t cut them, there won’t be enough to eat."

They only brought four boxes. Those judges definitely wouldn’t limit themselves to just one each. If they don’t slice them, it really might not be enough. Qiaoqiao worriedly looked at the large crowd gathered ahead—

Can’t they just forbid the teachers from eating?

Yang Zhengxi fell silent.

Though they were good brothers, one of them was really stingy when it came to handling affairs. But Baba had said before, someone’s stinginess wasn’t necessarily due to true miserliness—it could just be familial financial hardship... sigh! It did seem like Qiao Family was struggling!

Still, being able to pass the preliminaries showed their farming skills were competent. Should he perhaps buy some for New Year’s celebration this year...?

As he was lost in thought, a dense sweet fragrance—something between strawberries and yellow peaches—lightly wafted toward his nose like a gentle little hand.

So, so fragrant!

Yang Zhengxi instinctively took two deep sniffs and then looked at Qiaoqiao with astonished eyes: "Whoa! How come your family’s strawberries smell so good? Just the aroma alone is enough to win an award!"

He wasn’t exaggerating; he genuinely felt this way. After all, hadn’t he eaten all kinds of strawberries from his own family? Yet never before had any fruit’s scent alone been able to completely captivate his thoughts.

Qiaoqiao became smug. She glanced at Song Tan, who was tidying up that pile of staples from earlier, then quickly picked one out from the box and handed it to Yang Zhengxi:

"Eating it will be even better!"

Yang Zhengxi reverently extended both hands to cradle the large strawberry. This white strawberry, speckled with red seeds, carried a faint pinkish sheen. He gingerly pinched the vibrant green stalk and, with only his front teeth, carefully bit off the tip...

And then...

And then there was no "then."

How could it taste this good?!

Yang Zhengxi was losing it! Holding the pitifully small strawberry stem in his hand, he walked over to Song Tan:

"Sis, how do you think my market research just now went?"

Song Tan smiled slyly, teasing him: "Was that market research? You might as well have been begging for food."

"It was research!" Yang Zhengxi pointed earnestly at the mantou and thin pancake that she’d placed in the box. "These are the best tasting among the various flours they use. Truly!"

"Oh..." Song Tan dragged out in a long tone. "Well, thank you, Xiaoyang."

Yang Zhengxi nearly stomped his feet in frustration!

There had once been a chance to enjoy some exceptionally delicious strawberries promised before him, but he hadn’t treasured it! If the heavens gave him another chance, he’d say—

"Sis! Dearest sis! I’m begging you! I really want to eat those strawberries!"

This time, it was Qiaoqiao’s turn to get flustered: "That’s my sister! You can’t have any!"

He stopped slicing the fruit entirely and prepared to guard Song Tan properly, but Song Tan gently pushed him back to his task with a laugh: "Cover the sliced strawberries with plastic wrap."

The nearest exhibit area hadn’t been judged yet, and they didn’t want to affect the scoring.

Yang Zhengxi wasn’t pleased either: "Earlier I said you were my brother, and you agreed—sis, I’m begging here!"

Qiaoqiao, still holding the small knife, froze. In his family, it was always either "cousin" or "teacher," but he had never seen someone call a sister with this level of desperation.

So weird.

He glanced again.

Song Tan finally couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing: "Alright, alright! I get it. Once we get home, we’ll send you a box of strawberries."

Meanwhile, Qiaoqiao had finished slicing the Saga Snow Rabbit. At this point, he stared at the True Red Meiling, which was clearly smaller, hesitating: "Should I cut this one?"

Song Tan looked at it and said, "Better not. If we cut it, it’d become ridiculously small—that wouldn’t look right."

The True Red Meiling was noticeably smaller than the Saga Snow Rabbit, which could weigh up to 50 grams; each True Red Meiling was only around 20-30 grams. However, being stored in a specialized strawberry box made them appear especially premium.

The pure strawberry fragrance alone had already rooted Yang Zhengxi in place.

But Qiaoqiao was already wary of him. He immediately closed the lid on the box and declared: "This one can’t be eaten, can’t be cut. If it’s eaten, there won’t be enough left."

Glancing at the items laid out on the table, he continued to ask, "Do we slice the sweet potatoes? Should we break the greens leaf by leaf? What about the peppers—slice them too?"

Song Tan thought for a moment: "Go ahead and slice the sweet potatoes. After they finish judging, let’s simmer the sweet potatoes with that small bowl of rice from earlier to make porridge."

After pausing to think again, she added: "Slice the peppers as needed. Later, crush some garlic to mix with the greens and wrap everything in pancakes or mantou."

"Got it!" Qiaoqiao rolled up his sleeves and exclaimed, "I’ll start with the radish—can I shred it now? We need stir-fried radish shreds for lunch!"

"Nope." Song Tan quickly stopped him. "Peel the radish and slice it into rounds. Shredded pieces aren’t convenient for tasting."

Song Tan covered each sliced item with plastic wrap, while Yang Zhengxi circled around them, continually reaching out to sneak a piece of radish—only for Qiaoqiao to stop him each time.

—This act of betraying brotherly friendship was way too fast!

He sighed, finally waiting until the judges made their way to this exhibit area.

...

At that moment, the judges were still reviewing the items in Area 8: "Those small celery stalks are nice. Straight, slim, moist, and low-fiber—very good."

"Yes, I remember their seed company. Last year, didn’t they also auction off our No. 3 Golden Sweet Potato? They seem to excel at showcasing their advantages."

"The celery is good, but the benefits aren’t obvious. It might be better to optimize it for another two or three years first."

"Their winter melons are decent too. Smaller in size but high in yield, easy to store and sell..."

"Not that convenient once damaged. Cut-open winter melons spoil quickly, and long-distance transport risks inevitable bumps... Not cost-effective at this price point..."

"Hey, you’re supposed to taste it—where’d all this talk of sales come from?"

"Well, who was grumbling over failed auctions and unsold items the last time these top picks didn’t meet demand?"

"Exactly! Economic crops are still crops tied to economics. Without a market, why would farmers grow them?"

"Alright, alright, don’t forget why we created this award. Sales can be considered, but don’t factor them into your scores."

"Who’s the amateur speculating about sales here? Don’t professional companies know things better than us?"

The judges conversed as the division managers, staff, and media teams accompanying them bustled about.

However, after a morning of testing various raw ingredients directly, they all seemed visibly drained—like wilted leaves piled in baskets.

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