bayedsolid Chapter 362 The ginseng growers of Laoling Ginseng Garden do not need to have children
Chapter 362 The ginseng growers of Laoling Ginseng Garden do not need to have children
Just then, the sun was straining to push itself out from behind the distant mountains, and the first rays of golden light poured down.
In the mountain valley, the thin mist formed by spiritual energy is like a flowing veil, gently pushed by the morning breeze, swaying and drifting erratically.
The endless rain a while ago woke up the whole mountain.
Those plant spirits, as if injected with chicken blood, strained with all their might to shoot upwards and spur outwards.
The blue irises, the fiery red wild lilies, the bright white bellflowers... all adorned with dewdrops, swayed their little heads in the morning breeze.
But how could the charming appearance of these ordinary flowers and grasses overshadow even a fraction of the splendor of "the most beautiful and spiritual place in Changbai Mountain"—the Ginseng Seed!
Right now, the ginseng seedlings in the forest are really sparse. The ginseng vines are scattered among the wildly growing weeds and bushes. Si Zi has to slow down and widen his eyes to catch a glimpse of their faint glimmer of light.
"A pound of ginseng seeds can yield about ten thousand seeds. If you scatter them, they will almost all sprout. But for ginseng to cultivate its full spiritual essence, it has to endure eighty-one tribulations! Insects gnaw at it, wild animals chew on it, the turbid air underground rots its roots, and the cold snap in early spring freezes the seedlings. Even a silly roe deer or a reckless young deer can damage its spiritual essence by stepping on it, causing it to retreat underground like a cat for several years and dare not show its face."
—Even more bizarrely, they silently and completely disintegrate in the soil… To endure twenty or thirty years of hardship and finally manage to unearth two or three hundred whole ginseng plants would require the mountain god's blessing, an immense stroke of luck.”
Old Master Du, with his earthy, forest-scented ramblings, began to buzz again in Sizi's little head.
Si Zi couldn't suppress the innate affinity he felt for the spiritual herbs and immortal roots.
This closeness deepened further because of the ginseng that helped her break through time and space.
The little Sizi, with its tiny body, was the first to slip into the ginseng garden, which was filled with spiritual energy.
Old Du's stove was already standing in front of the mud house's broken wooden door—eroded beyond recognition by wind and rain.
With the characteristic swagger of a mountain forest owner, he greeted each of the hired veterans with a fist and palm salute, familiarly calling out their nicknames or real names: "Iron Shovel Head!", "Donkey!", "Old Hawk!"...
Clearly, Du Laozhao has a very close relationship with these rough men who spend their days dealing with clods of earth and spiritual roots!
The muscular man inside, with his piercing eagle eyes, was called "Old Hawk," and was Du Laozao's old partner, whose pants were so thick that even a pair of trousers wouldn't be enough for him.
But when Du Laozhao was addressing someone, his cheerful greeting suddenly stopped abruptly.
The man looked to be about the same age as my brother, tall and thin, with a fair complexion that didn't look like someone who toiled in the mountains. He wore faded indigo coarse cloth trousers and a shirt, with a stiff, black long-sleeved cloth shirt over them. He exuded a cleanliness, more like a city accountant who works with an abacus and is untouched by the smell of dirt.
When Sizi glanced over, her heart skipped a beat, and a strange, inexplicable feeling welled up inside her—not hostility, but rather a strangely pleasing feeling, like... like seeing her own withered little hoe suddenly come to life, looking a bit like a wild worm.