Her Cultivation Diary
Chapter 459 - Chapter 459 459. A precarious self-esteem_1

Chapter 459: 459. A precarious self-esteem_1 Chapter 459: 459. A precarious self-esteem_1 Zhang Yanping turned his numb head:

“Sorghum stalks… there are sweet and non-sweet types?”

“Of course.” Qiaoqiao looked at him strangely, “The sweet ones are a different variety that won’t be mature for another month. Every year Grandpa plants a few specifically for me to eat.”

“Brother Yanping, are you really craving them? No worries, you can go ahead and chop them down, there’s a lot planted this year.”

Zhang Yanping didn’t know what expression to use at that moment.

After a while, he heard Xin Jun trying to hold back her laughter next to him, bursting into “Pfft, pfft,” and he glared at her:

“How could you, Teacher Xin, so sly and cunning! Is this the example you set as an educator?”

Teacher Xin blinked innocently, “What did I do?”

Zhang Yanping was stumped.

Turning his head, he saw Xin Jun reaching out her hand, “Give me the knife, I’ll chop the sweet stalks for you to eat.”

Zhang Yanping, confused, handed the knife back, feeling again that something wasn’t quite right.

…

While the two useless adults were fumbling around trying to chop down those tall and sturdy sweet stalks, Qiaoqiao had already chopped down a whole row of sorghum, all the while not forgetting the kids in the livestream:

“This is much easier to cut than corn.”

“Kids, if you have corn planted at home, you can compare the two.”

“But I still prefer corn, because this year’s corn was planted by Teacher Qiaoqiao herself! I’ll show you the corn when it’s time to harvest!”

[What? Corn planted by Teacher Qiaoqiao herself? I don’t believe it unless you send one over for me to see.]

[The one in front, don’t you have any shame? Not like me, I just want to see a few ears of corn with my own eyes.]

[Buddy, are you all this greedy? I’m willing to pay–is this sorghum for sale?]

[Is it glutinous corn, fruit corn, or milk corn? If it’s silage corn, I won’t eat it.]

[You obviously don’t know how to eat. Ordinary silage corn, especially when roasted on a charcoal fire, is very fragrant and has a nice chew to it!]

Meanwhile, Qiaoqiao had already brought the freshly chopped sorghum stalk to the camera for the students to see:

“Look, this type of sorghum stalk is not sweet, the fluff inside has already dried up; I don’t recommend eating it, it’s like chewing wood.”

[What does chewing wood feel like? I’ve never tried it.]

[I knew it! The sorghum stalks I ate as a kid, some were sweet and some were not–it’s because they are different varieties!]

[Indeed, the old ones inside are like a bunch of dry cotton, a real disappointment to eat.]

[Why a disappointment? Did you have high expectations for it?]

[Because that was a stalk I stealthily stole from the village at night when no one was around.]

[…]

And there Qiaoqiao was, performing the task while pondering: What teaching points haven’t I covered yet?

Teacher Xin said when teaching others, you should start by summarizing the key points and then elaborate in detail, but I’ve already explained the techniques for chopping sorghum, and there doesn’t seem to be any key points, right?

I need to assign homework so everyone can practice on their own.

Sigh.

A deep sense of regret spread across his fair face–why doesn’t anyone at home have land?

It’s so inconvenient to assign homework now.

Unable to think of anything missing, he simply let it go, tossed the livestream aside, and buried himself once more, humming and huffing as he continued to work.

With two mu of sorghum, despite the two laggards, relying on his present physique, he had finished the work in just an hour or two.

At that moment, he swung his hand with the authority of a triumphant general, “Brother Yanping, I’ve finished chopping. Sister said we need to work together. You were lazy and didn’t chop the sorghum, so it’s your responsibility to transport it.”

Zhang Yanping: ???

He was still holding a piece of sweet cane, crunching away when he heard this and was stunned.

Looking at the tricycle parked at the side of the road and the sorghum stalks lying flat on the ground–

“Qiaoqiao, how can you work so fast in the fields? Aren’t you tired? Isn’t it hot?”

“Because Qiaoqiao has been working all the time!”

Qiaoqiao, looking frustrated, put his hands on his hips, “Qiaoqiao is very obedient and won’t be lazy like the adults.”

“Besides, although it’s a bit hot and a bit tiring, Seventh Uncle said he would teach me how to make wine. To learn new knowledge, Qiaoqiao must conquer these ‘sorcerous powers’ of the sorghum!”

He tossed the sickle into the basket and then crossed his arms in an X, striking a classic pose.

Lazy adult Zhang Yanping: …

At that moment, Xin Jun with several sweet canes and Qiaoqiao with a sickle and basket, made an elegant exit!

Zhang Yanping could only huff and puff as he dragged the sorghum stalks from the ground to the tricycle on the road…

Wait a minute!

The sorghum stalks were all wishfully over two meters tall, and the tricycle’s rear bed couldn’t possibly hold them all! Looking at the knife Qiaoqiao specifically left behind, tears of a man’s frustration began to streak down his darkened face…

Fortunately, Song Tan was well aware of how helpless her cousin, who wouldn’t even pick up a fallen oil bottle, was. Zhang Yanping huffed and puffed only to have cut all the sorghum stalks in half when Song Sancheng came over as well.

Seeing the mess of sorghum stalks on the ground, he was taken aback, “Yanping, why did you cut them in half?”

Zhang Yanping let out a sigh, “Uncle, these stalks are too long; they won’t fit in the rear bed of the tricycle.”

Song Sancheng: …

“Didn’t Qiaoqiao teach you? Just cut the sorghum about thirty to forty centimeters below the head. The remaining stalk will be at most one and a half meters and will barely fit.”

“The heads of the sorghum you just cut are convenient for threshing when we get back.”

Zhang Yanping: …

He felt like crying without tears: if only they knew he wasn’t cut out for farm work!

Due to his fumbling around, by the time all the sorghum stalks were transported home, the sun was already scorching the skin with its fierce heat.

Song Sancheng, laughing and scolding him for being a foolish boy, sat in the cool shade of the porch, adjusted the fan to blow on himself, and then once again started chopping off the tops of the halved sorghum stalks.

Zhang Yanping, feeling extremely guilty, decided not to leave and just squatted on the porch to watch Sancheng’s movements, “Does it have to be this long? Can’t we use the half-length directly?”

Just as they were discussing, Qiaoqiao had already joined Seventh Uncle on the ground, spreading out another piece of plastic film, then the two brought over a small stool, grabbed a few of the cut sorghum pieces, about three to four centimeters in length with the heavy heads and stalk attached.

Lifting them up–

“Whack!”

The hefty sorghum directly struck the ground, scattering many sorghum grains.

Then both of them lifted their hands again, forcefully smashing down the sorghum heads.

“Whack!”

“Whack!”

“Whack!”

All over the ground, not only were there bright red sorghum heads, but also Zhang Yanping’s precariously teetering self-esteem.

Meanwhile, Qiaoqiao curiously asked, “Seventh Uncle, how much wine can we make with this?”

Seventh Uncle sized it up, “The sorghum has grown well, see how full and round it is, still hefty–feels like we have around three to four hundred pounds from these two acres.”

“To make wine, it’s about three pounds for one pound of wine–so you figure it out, how much wine is that?”