Her Cultivation Diar Chapter 101 101: 101. Fruit Seedling Price1

Chapter 101: 101. Fruit Seedling Price_1

“`

“I’m telling you!”

Zhang Wang’s hands, aged and gnarled, clutched the hoe tightly, blue veins bulging as he glared fiercely at his children, “From the day I married your mother, she began to save money. She saved so for the household and so for each of you! She saved for over forty years.”

“Later on, when life got better, all the money saved for the household was given to you guys too. We fulfilled our responsibility. Your mother said that when she passed, the remaining money was to be shared among you as a keepsake.”

“Never thought I’d raise a bunch of ingrates. You don’t even care for your own mother, so what keepsake do you want?”

With that, Zhang Wang slamd the hoe onto the ground:

...

“I’m telling you now, I don’t have children like you. No need to kowtow!”

“Get out! All of you get out!”

Just then, the won who had been counting the money finally finished tallying the full box, and, looking at Zhang’s wife, not yet placed in the coffin, tears suddenly stread down:

“All together… thirty thousand yuan.”

…

Silence fell over everyone present.

Only the sound of Song Youde smoking his cigarette and then suddenly quipping out of the blue:

“Sancheng, if you dare do this to

when I can no longer work, I’ll burn your house down with a fire.”

“Zhang Wang is just too soft-hearted. If it were , I would have chopped them with the hoe right on their heads. A dog would have been better than his kids.”

Song Sancheng felt a chill on his scalp, then put on a stern face, “Dad, what are you talking about? It was

who drove those three bastards away today!”

Fancy that, their sons and sons-in-law ca in cars. Regardless of whether the cars were good or bad, borrowed or what, they had the ans but still wouldn’t spend on their own mother… Saying they’re heartless is an understatent.

Song Youde snorted. That was more like it.

As for Zhang Wang, given that his children were out of the picture, hosting relatives and friends from the village was simple. Today wasn’t the ti for proper hospitality anyway. Song Sancheng planned to help out again tomorrow, and the day after, he’d have to assist with carrying the coffin too.

It seed the incident was going to pass quietly.

But as the funeral progressed, Song Tan noticed that the relatives working in the house, whether aunts or uncles, suddenly beca very active.

With so thought, she understood that this was the innate panic from the middle-aged and the elderly, realizing that their children were unreliable.

Now, with a chance to make money, it was wiser to save for themselves.

If you get sick, best pay for your treatnt without hoping for the children’s help. When you’re old, having money won’t guarantee comfort, but can’t it at least reduce suffering?

Realizing this, Song Tan couldn’t help but sigh.

But right now, there was another matter worth her sigh—the price for the mature peach saplings, grafted in the past year, was absurdly high.

Zhang Yanping had sought out the channel from Old Zhou, who ran a nursery, and had also inquired elsewhere. Yet everywhere he asked, mature saplings that were three centiters in diater cost eighty yuan each.

To fully plant their twenty acres, they needed at least two thousand trees, totaling a staggering one hundred sixty thousand yuan—more expensive than a twenty-year land lease, no less!

Good grief!

When Wu Lan and Song Sancheng heard these numbers in the house, they were alard, “Do we really need to plant such expensive fruit trees? Can’t we plant sothing cheaper?”

But the thing is, the market price for mature fruiting trees was more or less the sa these days.

Where would they find the money for that?

They had just started plowing the mountain; who would have guessed they’d misjudged the price so badly?

Wu Lan pondered, “Otherwise, that sixty thousand yuan…”

“`

Song Tan shook her head, “Mom, don’t put so much pressure on yourself; just think of it this way: 160,000 yuan is just selling 16 kilograms of tea.”

Wow!

Look at how casually she’s talking, as if it’s just 16 yuan.

But when you think about it, it’s true: If you say 160,000 yuan, that’s certainly a big number. But if you talk about 16 kilograms of tea, it suddenly doesn’t seem like a big deal. Even though Wu Lan knew that selling the tea wouldn’t be so easy, she still couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Song Tan also soothed her, “It’s okay, no rush. It will take another four or five days to get things sorted on the mountain, which is enough ti for us to earn this money.”

She really wasn’t worried—in the worst case, she would just take out a loan. She couldn’t believe that with the quality of her products, she wouldn’t be able to make those 160,000 yuan.

She turned her head and began sending ssages in the group chat.

[Honey pre-sale starts, 1,000 yuan per kilogram, first co first served, prices will double to 2,000 yuan in a week.]

[Pre-Qingming tea is about to sell out, purchase now if interested.]

It wasn’t wrong—Qingming Festival was coming in just two days. They could only produce about four or five kilograms of dried tea per day, and compared to the larger tea rchants, they were indeed about to sell out.

[Milk Vetch harvest period is five days, please take note of the timing.]

My goodness, the phone kept pinging all night without stopping.

People were either inquiring about the products or simply sending their addresses and paying outright.

Waking up in the morning, Song Tan made a nonchalant gesture to the heavily dark-circled Wu Lan, “Mom, I told you there’s no need to worry. Last night, we sold eight kilograms of tea.”

“Twenty kilograms of honey were pre-ordered.”

And there were so Milk Vetch, but those details could wait until the harvest to count the exact amounts.

My goodness, that was 100,000 yuan in one night. Who knew money could co in so fast?

Wu Lan’s head was spinning with excitent.

Little did she know that the bosses and Secretary Wang had been carrying a tin of the tea with them everywhere they went ever since they had tasted it.

They weren’t that picky before, but after trying other people’s tea, they found fault with everything.

This tea was too dark, that one too bitter; another one lacked a sufficient aftertaste, yet another’s aroma was dull…

Even though the teas they tasted were all high-quality, they just didn’t feel right anymore.

Alas, as soon as they heard that this tea was about to sell out and were uncertain if the sa quality would be available later, they both imdiately adopted a Singles’ Day shopping spree mindset, buying four kilograms at once.

Of those, the boss bought three kilograms and Secretary Wang one.

There was no helping it; who made Secretary Wang sowhat more financially embarrassed?

The other two kilograms were pre-ordered by those young chaps from the last ti in the office who had crowdfunded.

These blokes were sly, keeping the good tea for themselves and reluctant to give it as gifts, fearing their parents or fathers-in-law might develop a taste for it and then crave this particular tea all the ti.

After all, with their ager salaries, who could they afford to supply? Better to enjoy it themselves.

And who were the last two kilograms for?

Of course, it was Old Sun’s buddies.

After all, it had only been a few days, and who knows if his brothers had emptied their secret stashes, but last night, they were especially eager to pay. No hesitation or skulking about like the last ti.

And Wu Lan was thoroughly relieved.

The 100,000 yuan from the honey and tea sales, plus the 40,000 yuan from the last Milk Vetch sale, left her feeling incredibly light-hearted, without a single worry anymore.