Her Cultivation Diary

Chapter 82: 82. Daxiong eats and takes_1

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The dogs had more or less become familiar with everyone in the house after such a cleanup.

Song Tan was still worried that their refusal training had been too successful that they would reject food even from the family members. Therefore, she had everyone hold some dog food mixed with Spiritual Energy and fed them under her supervision.

The dogs, feeling her encouragement and temptation, finally began to eat.

After all this commotion, it wasn’t until seven o’clock, when it got dark, that everyone finally sat down at the table for dinner.

The dogs, still new to the place—with the exception of Dabao, who was feeling somewhat down and lying there missing his previous owner—roamed freely around the yard.

Dabao, the Doberman, sniffed with interest at the fluffy little ducks kept in a corner.

Sibao, the Mastiff, clung to the support post of the shed, eyes fixated on the slight humming bee boxes above, full of curiosity.

Erbao, the Casro, sat next to Qiaoqiao, the two brothers sharing food bite for bite, as if they yearned to sleep together that night.

Sanbao, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen, but Song Tan could tell from her dad’s peculiar expression—sure enough! While eating, one hand disappeared behind his back.

Sanbao, the German Shepherd, sat there, cautiously and gently grabbing the bone with his teeth.

Watching her silly cousin eat without looking up, Song Tan knew this was the best time to put a long-term worker to good use!

She seized the moment when everyone put down their chopsticks to ask, “Qiaoqiao, did you take the bees to gather nectar today?”

Qiaoqiao instantly perked up.

He had been waiting all day to report his work to his sister. Now he loudly said:

“I did!”

At the same time, he flapped his arms to gesture, “Daxiong is too fat, he can’t fly at all. When I took him to the field and he leaned on a flower, it bent over.”

This was why Qiaoqiao’s precious day was so tiring. Other bees buzzed tirelessly in the flower field, self-sufficient and even earning for their owner.

But with his Daxiong, Qiaoqiao had to hold the stem so it could support its burdensome weight.

“Daxiong’s wings are just tiny, buzzing and buzzing, but he just can’t fly up!”

He obviously felt a sense of heavy responsibility and was proud as he spoke: “But sister, I touched its butt, and it didn’t sting me!”

As he spoke, he touched his palm, clearly remembering the swelling and pain from before.

Song Tan cleared her throat, unwilling to admit that she had touched them so much that the bees had grown accustomed.

“So, did it get enough to eat?”

“It ate all day,” Qiaoqiao gestured. “When we left, it even had two small baskets hanging from its legs…”

With his limited vocabulary, he hesitated for a long time, then with some inspiration from Wu Lan, he managed to give an assessment of the behavior: “Eating and taking, all plump.”

Song Tan couldn’t help but laugh—what ‘eating and taking’? Bees collect pollen they can’t eat right away on the back of their legs in pollen baskets to bring back home.

Otherwise, if they ate so much themselves, what would they feed their young?

“Hmm, very good, Qiaoqiao. You’re doing an excellent job. I’ll add your wages later, and when you need money, just tell your sister,” she said.

At this, Qiaoqiao hesitated, looking at Song Tan, then at Zhang Yanping, leaving the young man looking confused.

Only to hear Qiaoqiao say, “Sister, give me a dollar, I want to buy bubble gum for brother.”

The bubble gum Qiaoqiao referred to, also known as chewing gum, was still the kind Song Tan ate when she was little.

One dollar for a pack, five pieces, and after twenty years, the price only increased by fifty cents, a model of a conscientious company indeed.

Upon hearing this, there was silence at the table.

Then, amidst everyone’s stifled laughter, Song Tan rummaged through every corner of her bag, finally finding that elusive coin.

Zhang Yanping protested, “Brother doesn’t eat bubble gum!”

“Brother lies.”

Qiaoqiao seriously said, “You didn’t buy it for brother yesterday, so you were slow at work this morning.”

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“I’m off!” he exclaimed, dashing out.

A little while later, he hurried back, asking, “Sister, can I take the dog out?”

He was already wearing the dog tag himself, eager to go out and show it off.

Song Tan thought for a moment, “Then wait for me, I’ll take Da Wang for a walk with you.”

The small store has always been the gathering place for conversations. Taking Da Wang for a walk there would let the villagers know that their house was not without protection.

Qiaoqiao just gave an “Oh” and obediently went back to the doghouse to look for Da Wang.

Meanwhile, Song Tan continued, “Dad, how was the bee honey gathering today?”

“Great, great!” Song Sancheng’s face lit up with joy: “I went up to the mountain today to air out the black fungus, and to see the silver fungus mycelium coming out!”

“On my way back, I took a stroll through the fields and saw the bees buzzing in layers, all of them swarming there! Looked pretty scary from afar.”

But as he got closer, he saw each little bee busily collecting honey, not even sparing a glance when he reached out toward them.

They would surely be having a good feast this time.

Song Tan was perfectly content.

These little workers were earning money, truly the heroes. In a couple of days, when this flower field is almost depleted, they’d have to start another.

She didn’t have to worry about the bees anymore. Remembering the Golden Sakura in the back of her truck, she went on, “Then… Dad, find someone to help my cousin tomorrow to plant all the Golden Sakura.”

What?

Zhang Yanping almost leapt up: “We’re digging up mountains now?!”

“Who’s digging up mountains?!”

To Song Sancheng, it hardly seemed like a task:

“We just need to dig a few trenches along the net on each side and plant the saplings, right? We don’t need to find more people, my cousin and I can finish it in one day.”

“No, no, no, no, no…”

Zhang Yanping frantically waved his hands, “Uncle, we should find someone! Look at me…”

He showed his soft, tender palms: “I’m really not cut out for this.”

But Song Tan had her aunt’s words as her ultimate weapon and wouldn’t take the laborer’s protests seriously. She simply asked him, “Choose one: either help put up the fence or plant the Golden Sakura.”

How could he choose? What kind of choice was this?

Zhang Yanping was on the verge of tears.

“By the way, Dad, we need to get some bricks and cement when you have the chance; we need to build a few more doghouses.”

Song Sancheng thought for a moment, “There are some old green bricks and big tiles left over in the back yard at Grandpa’s.”

“But we don’t need to hire anyone for that either. I’ll take care of it in the next two days.”

Song Tan looked at Da Wang’s size and advised him, “We should still hire someone. Make a foundation for Qianqian’s house, and build it solid.”

After all, it needed to be durable for long-term use.

“Otherwise, you see how big Da Wang is. Doing it alone would be no different than building a house. The tea has already sold for six taels, six thousand yuan. We have money, Dad,” she reminded him.

Tea brought up, Song Sancheng immediately dared not delay any further and agreed right away.

Wu Lan, puzzled, asked, “You sold the tea before you even picked it?”

And for such a high price?