Chapter 12

The full moon rose, its light hazy. It was the 15th day of the lunar month, and tonight’s moon was especially round, like a golden baked pancake sprinkled with sesame seeds.

As night fell, a slight breeze finally stirred, rustling the leaves, but the air remained scorching, leaving a sticky layer of sweat on the skin, making one feel uncomfortable.

In the courtyard, a square table was set, and the family gathered around it for dinner.

Dinner was捞面条 (lāo miàn tiáo) —捞面 (lāo miàn).

A large porcelain basin was placed on the table, filled with cool well water, in which white, bright noodles were soaked. Beside it was a bowl of tomato and egg sauce.

The捞面, after being cooled in the water, was topped with a layer of tomato and egg sauce, and seasoned with homemade chili sauce. It was incredibly refreshing and satisfying to eat. Mother’s cooking skills were truly outstanding; she could turn the most ordinary meals into exquisite delicacies.

It had been over a decade since Xiao Fei had last eaten a meal cooked by his mother.

He savored every bite, his cheeks fragrant.

He ate three large bowls in a row and wanted more, but the noodles had already reached his throat, and he couldn’t eat any more.

The family sitting together made Xiao Fei feel particularly warm and cozy.

However, during the meal, everyone was very quiet, and the only sound was the slurping of noodles.

The bollworm disaster, Xiao Fei’s failure in the college entrance exam, and the offense he had caused to Liu Zhenhai’s wife in the afternoon—all these pressures were like a mountain, suffocating the entire family.

Seeing his father’s furrowed brows, his graying hair, and the deep wrinkles on his face, Xiao Fei felt a pang of sorrow. He pondered whether he should suggest that they abandon the cotton fields this season and plant other crops, as it was a futile effort anyway, and a total loss was inevitable.

In 1996, the cotton fields in Xili Village were like a bottomless pit.

No matter how much pesticide was sprayed, how much fertilizer was applied, or how many times the fields were watered, all the efforts were in vain!

In his previous life, Xiao Fei’s family had almost no harvest that autumn and ended up in debt, all because of those few acres of cotton fields.

It was now July 10th, the early boll stage of the cotton. Although the bollworm infestation was severe, people had not yet lost hope. They believed that as long as they didn’t slack off and applied pesticides in time, the cotton fields could be saved, and some harvest could be salvaged from the bollworms.

The simple farmers rarely calculated the costs of farming at this point. They treated the crops in the fields like their own children, nurturing them with care.

It wouldn’t be until mid-August, when the cotton reached the full boll stage, that the farmers would see the fields in ruins, and more and more families would give up on their cotton fields.

By then, the cost of pesticides alone would reach one or two hundred yuan per mu, all wasted. Any attempt to plant other crops to recover some losses would be too late due to the season.

“Dad, in my opinion, the bollworms this year are too severe. We can’t control them. Why don’t we destroy the cotton and plant something else, like Northeast sticky corn, to get some harvest?” Xiao Fei said, looking at his father.

Hearing Xiao Fei’s words, his father glared at him. “What do you know? Why can’t we control them? As long as we don’t slack off and put in the effort, I don’t believe these little bugs can cause such chaos!”

Xiao Fei’s father’s response was as expected.

Xiao Fei smiled. “Let me do the math for you.”

His father ignored Xiao Fei, took out his pipe, and started smoking, his eyes fixed on the moon in the eastern sky.

“Dad, have you calculated the costs? With the current disaster, even if we spray pesticides every other day, we can’t completely control the bollworms. Each spray costs 20 to 30 yuan. From the early boll stage to the flowering stage, it’s about two months, and we need to spray over 30 times. The cost of pesticides alone will be at least 700 to 800 yuan, not including labor. We also need to fertilize and water the cotton. The total cost will be over 1,000 yuan. Even if our six mu of cotton are not affected, the maximum income for the season would be around 4,000 yuan. With this year’s disaster, the best estimate is a 50% reduction in yield, meaning we might only get 2,000 yuan. In the worst case, we might not even get 2,000 yuan, and we need to be prepared for a total loss. Do you think it’s worth it to struggle so hard with the cotton?” Xiao Fei explained, counting on his fingers.

“Huh? Xiao Er knows a lot. It sounds quite reasonable,” Xiao Yang said, holding a large bowl, his face full of surprise, nodding frequently.

“Brother, you’re exaggerating. One spray can last three to five days, and it won’t cost that much. But we’ve already borrowed over 100 yuan from the agricultural supply station for pesticides,” Xiao Yan said.

“Mind your own business and focus on your studies. Have you all finished eating? It’s time to go to the fields,” Father glanced at Xiao Fei and called out to his brother and sister.

Xiao Yang and Xiao Yan stood up.

Ignored. Xiao Fei felt very frustrated.

He knew what his father and siblings were going to do. They were going to the fields to kill the bollworm moths. They would light fires at the edges of the fields and walk around with torches to attract the moths to the flames.

If the moths were eliminated, the bollworms’ reproduction could be controlled.

Everyone in the village was doing this.

“Dad, wait! Listen to a story I heard from a neighboring village,” Xiao Fei couldn’t sit still, stood up, and quickly told a fabricated, alarming story. “The story goes like this: One noon, an old man was spraying pesticides in his cotton field with his grandson. The old man was in front with the sprayer, and his grandson was playing at the edge of the field. When the old man finished one round and came back, his grandson shouted, ‘Grandpa, stop! Stop! It’s no use!’ The old man was puzzled and asked why. His grandson said, ‘I saw you spraying in front, but an old lady was following you, scattering bugs on the cotton plants.’ I heard this from someone who said the old man was from their village. Now you know why the bollworms can’t be controlled this year. It’s clearly a natural disaster!”

“Nonsense!”

“Rubbish!”

“Which village is that old man from? Tell us clearly.”

Xiao Fei’s story had a noticeable effect, making his father, brother, and sister feel a bit uneasy. When people feel powerless against nature, they tend to believe in supernatural things easily.

They were inwardly shaken but outwardly scolded Xiao Fei.

Xiao Fei could sense their inner fear. He thought, it seems I need to spread more rumors in the village.

Stories like how bollworms are invulnerable to any poison, can survive in pure pesticide, and how a farmer, thinking the pesticide was fake, drank it and died from poisoning—such stories would surely shake the villagers’ confidence in saving the cotton harvest.

He couldn’t control what the villagers did, but he urgently needed to change his father’s mind and destroy their cotton fields to plant other crops. He calculated that there was still time, provided he could convince his father quickly.