Chapter Thirty-Five: This Time, Truly Mad

Because the vegetable greenhouse used blackout straw mats, the crops had to be selected for their low light requirements.

In later years, his grandfather had once told him that leafy greens needed very little light throughout their growth. After careful consideration, Zhou Zhi chose three types of vegetables.

Chives, spinach, and celery.

These three vegetables were common in warm seasons. Chives especially were favored by large northern households for dumpling fillings. If chives could be harvested in the harsh winter, they would fetch a good price.

Fortunately, the family already had chive seeds, and Zhou Zhi planned to plant a large area of chives in the greenhouse.

Spinach and celery were both exceptionally resilient, and he decided to sow some of each. Spinach and celery seeds were found in almost every household; if his own supply was insufficient, Zhou Zhi would borrow some from Uncle Zhang.

The reason for choosing three varieties was well considered. In the Ming dynasty, the idea of vegetable greenhouses was merely an experiment; whether or not it would succeed, no one could say. Zhou Zhi simply resolved to do his utmost and think through every detail.

If he planted only one kind and it failed to thrive, wouldn’t that be a disaster? In Zhou Zhi’s mind, if all three failed, the greenhouse would be a complete failure. But if even one or two grew well, the yield from half an acre would far exceed that of wheat—this would count as a success.

That day was especially clear, the sky cloudless, the sun shining warmly down. Zhou Zhi and his sister, Zhou Lüyun, busied themselves in the greenhouse, scattering vegetable seeds.

Zhou Zhi had built a wall around their field and worked there daily, so the residents of Baiyue Village watched closely. Everyone wondered privately what clever idea Zhou Zhi would come up with this time.

When asked, Zhou Zhi would always reply vaguely, never revealing his plans. But today, curiosity overcame the villagers, and they gathered at the edge of the field, craning their necks to see what was happening inside.

Old Wang, known as the “Riddle Boy,” who had once had his pride spared by Zhou Zhi at the drying yard, now considered himself closer to Zhou Zhi. He stood at the southern side of the greenhouse, peering in with a grin.

The straw mats would not be placed for some days yet, leaving the south open. After a while, Old Wang asked, “Young Zhou, are you planting vegetables?”

Zhou Zhi, who had a fairly good impression of Old Wang, smiled slightly and replied, “Yes, I intend to plant some vegetables and hope to sell them in winter if they grow well.”

“Oh…” Old Wang appeared calm.

But his heart was pounding wildly. He thought, this Zhou boy certainly has talent and imagination—but how could he be so reckless? Could he have caught some strange illness?

Yet Zhou Zhi showed no signs of illness; his mind was clear, his movements agile. It was truly odd.

Turning around, Old Wang called to the onlookers, “Folks, you heard it! Young Zhou is planting vegetables—chives, spinach, and celery.”

“Oh my! Planting chives in the dead of winter? They’ll surely freeze!”

“This Zhou boy comes up with the strangest ideas. It’s bizarre, truly bizarre. And look, his sister is joining him in this madness. The siblings… tsk tsk!”

Incomprehensible, unfathomable.

The villagers discussed it animatedly. Some warm-hearted neighbors called out loudly, “Young Zhou, vegetables will freeze in winter! You’ve already missed your chance with wheat on this half-acre, and now planting vegetables is just wasting time and effort. Take your uncle’s advice and go home. Don’t make trouble for yourself.”

Zhou Zhi laughed, his tone unwavering, “I just want to try. If vegetables grow in summer, why not in winter? I appreciate your concern, uncle, but I must plant these crops.”

Crazy! This time, Zhou Zhi had truly lost his mind.

Last time, Zhou Zhi had wagered his literacy against Chen Wenju in the fields, and everyone thought him mad, but he won the bet and surprised everyone.

This time, however, was different. The villagers were all seasoned farmers, and none had ever seen vegetables grow in winter. Who could believe Zhou Zhi?

Walk your own path, let others talk.

Zhou Zhi looked at the crowd and whispered to his sister.

Yet among the villagers, some were shrewd. They remembered Zhou Zhi winning his bet against Chen Wenju and inventing the bellows, and already respected him. Seeing him build walls and plant vegetables, they silently thought: Zhou Zhi is clever, hardly mad. Perhaps he might really grow fresh vegetables in winter.

If he succeeds, that would be a rare way to make money. Next year, hmm! I’ll set aside a field to plant vegetables too.

During winter, rural folk were idle and sometimes gathered to gamble, using dice or cards. Small bets brought amusement, while big bets ruined families. They were poor, and gambling involved only eggs or a few copper coins—just a form of entertainment.

Ding Ergou, the local layabout, was among them, and suddenly shouted, “Young Zhou wants to grow vegetables in winter. Anyone willing to bet? Let’s wager whether he can produce fresh vegetables.”

At the mention of betting, many responded, but how should the bet work? Who could believe Zhou Zhi would succeed?

“Bet? Ding Ergou, are you betting Zhou Zhi can grow vegetables?”

“Of course not. I bet he can’t. I’ll give ten to one odds.”

To him, it was a sure thing. Even at a hundred to one, he’d gladly participate—it was as good as taking free money, impossible to lose.

“Ah, then what’s the point in betting? Everyone knows the vegetables will freeze in winter,” the villagers responded with sighs.

“I bet Zhou Zhi can grow vegetables—they won’t freeze.” After a long silence, a deep voice emerged from the crowd.

At once, all eyes turned to Farmer Zhang Bing.

Zhang Bing, around thirty, was not tall and usually appeared dull, but he was shrewd. Although his home was not close to Zhou Zhi’s, he paid close attention to him. While others thought Zhou Zhi mad, Zhang Bing had observed his actions, especially after the invention of the bellows, and greatly admired him.

Zhou Zhi’s mind was exceptionally sharp!

Now, examining the greenhouse Zhou Zhi had built and understanding its structure, Zhang Bing realized Zhou Zhi might actually succeed.

The villagers clicked their tongues in astonishment—Zhou Zhi seemed mad, and now another fool had appeared. What was happening in Baiyue Village?

Regardless, since a fool had turned up, why not win some money from him? Ding Ergou was the first to respond, “All right, I’ll bet with you. If Zhou Zhi’s vegetables don’t freeze in winter, I’ll pay you five hundred coins. If they do, you owe me only fifty.”

Others followed suit, clamoring to bet with Zhang Bing.

…

In the afternoon, Zhou Zhi and his sister finished planting the greenhouse. Zhou Zhi was full of excitement, but Zhou Lüyun looked doubtful, glanced at her brother, and asked softly, “Xiao Zhi, will this really work?”

“The weather now is good for sprouting. The later stages will require much effort to manage. I think it should work,” he said casually, but Zhou Lüyun could hear the confidence in his voice.

If Xiao Zhi set his mind to something, it was sure to succeed.

Zhou Lüyun forced herself to believe this.

After sowing the seeds, several days would pass before the sprouts appeared. Chives would take even longer. For the next few days, Zhou Zhi could finally rest.

He realized that with all the recent busyness, he’d neglected his studies and grown lax in memorizing texts.

This was not a good omen.

The purpose of the greenhouse was to improve the family’s fortunes; once life became easier, studying would be more convenient. If the family had extra money, once things were stable, Zhou Zhi could attend the academy.

There would be no preliminary exam next year, but there would be one in early spring the following year. If the family prospered quickly enough, Zhou Zhi planned to participate. Whether or not he passed, it would be valuable experience.

Studying was the most important thing; he must not neglect it.

“Each day I examine myself—have I been loyal in my dealings? Trustworthy with friends? Have I reviewed what was taught?”

With their own thoughts, the siblings walked home.

Just as they entered the yard, they saw their mother, Zhou He, hurrying out in distress. Upon seeing Zhou Zhi and Zhou Lüyun, she exclaimed urgently, “I was just about to go to the fields to find you. You’re finally back. Xiao Cheng started burning with fever early this morning. I thought covering him well would help, but he’s getting worse. What should we do?”