Chapter 517 - 41: The Magical Soil (Part 2)
In the morning, he made some Baklava for his daughter to sell by cycling around, and logically speaking, she shouldn’t have returned by this time. Zhou Qizheng felt helpless about having his daughter peddle along the streets, and his identity along with his utterly poor cotton farming skills made everyone in Uluqosa Town look down on him.
The daughter calling out at this time would mean either something had happened to his wife or that wicked woman Jiva was up to her old tricks, trying to pilfer his son again.
Squatting on the ridge for a while, Zhou Qizheng felt anxious upon hearing his daughter’s calls. When he suddenly stood up, his head felt dizzy and his vision went dark for a moment. By the time his head and vision cleared, his daughter Pali Dan had already brought a young man over to the field ridge.
"Are you Mr. Zhou? I’m a technician from the town," the man said as his shoes crunched on the sandy soil. A technician sent from the town?
Hmph, just another person coming to mock him. Zhou Qizheng’s mood soured recalling the numerous occasions he’d sought advice from the wealthy cotton farmer Ahmat, who only knocked the ash out of his water pipe and stuffed tobacco into it, "This is Uluqosa Town. The deities of Heavenly Mountain bestow blessings upon the people of Uluqosa. Your land is only fit to produce cotton worth no more than rocks."
"Dad, Uncle Zhou is a good man, he said the Baklava you made is very tasty," said Pali Dan with her flushed face, her previous panic completely replaced by joy.
Uncle Zhou? Another with the same surname. Ever since living in Uluqosa Town, it’s been years since he’d heard the surname of Han people.
With his guard slightly lowered, Zhou Qizheng reached into the pocket of his jacket, only to feel the empty shell of a cigarette packet - the last cigarette had just been smoked at the edge of the field.
Zhou Ziang was also taking a good look at Zhou Qizheng, who didn’t seem like a lazy man. Judging by his wife and daughter and that piece of Baklava they had digested, he seemed a hardworking and practical person. An honest and diligent man, how could he fail to grow cotton?
At the base of the field ridge, the answer lay in the three acres of cotton fields.
"This soil..." Before coming to Xinjiang, Director Yu Gang personally gave Zhou Ziang a soil analysis report of Xinjiang.
Uluqosa, being part of Southern Xinjiang, mostly has sandy soil.
For most crops, sandy soil is unsuitable. However, for growing cotton, this type of soil’s physical properties are optimal; the so-called best soil for cotton cultivation is a mix of 60% sand and 40% clay.
"It’s sandy soil. Dr. Yu Gang, the current head of China’s Agricultural Academy, has said that this soil can grow the best cotton." Zhou Qizheng stubbornly believed in these few acres of land. He had been responsible for accompanying Director Yu Gang across much of Xinjiang, and the only soil quality praised by Director Yu for cotton cultivation was exactly what they were standing on.
"I’m not saying Director Yu Gang was wrong; with his professional knowledge, he couldn’t have made a mistake. Soil conditions change over time. If Director Yu Gang saw the current state of this soil, his judgment would be the same as mine; this land is no longer suitable for growing cotton," said Zhou Ziang, realizing that the plain man before him had clung to Yu Gang’s words as his last lifeline, pinning all his hopes on these few acres of sandy land. His assessment would likely shatter Zhou Qizheng’s last belief in cotton farming, but he still had to speak the truth.
A man, a father persisting in a belief and holding on to an endeavor is not wrong, but if he cannot even take care of his wife and children’s livelihood, then he is undoubtedly failing them.
"Impossible, Director Yu would never say such a thing; he is a man who stands by his word and actions. Back when we discussed my staying in Xinjiang to grow cotton, he also encouraged me to stay," Zhou Qizheng found it hard to believe what Zhou Ziang had said, swaying like a desolate fallen leaf.
"Uncle, my dad always manures the fields in the winter, and then he waters them daily. He cherishes the cotton fields more than anyone else in town. Why can’t we grow cotton here?" Little Pali Dan first voiced the injustice for her father.
Though still young when helping out in other people’s cotton fields, she saw cotton farmers haphazardly cutting down cotton trees after harvesting and piling them aside.
How could that be the same as her father, who almost cherished every single cotton plant in the field as if it were his own child?
"Pali Dan, have you ever tried using a bamboo basket to fetch water?" Zhou Ziang didn’t want to fob off this innocent girl with harsh botanical terms; the hardships of life should not extinguish her thirst for knowledge.
"Is it the basket for eggs? But you can’t use that to carry water; the water would leak out," Pali Dan didn’t understand. How could this seemingly clever uncle ask such a silly question? Even Abudan knew you couldn’t use a bamboo basket to fetch water.
"Your family’s few acres of land are like a bamboo basket, and the fertilizers your dad uses are like water," Zhou Ziang gently patted Pali Dan’s head, then turned to Zhou Qizheng, "Did you apply a lot of phosphate, potassium, and zinc fertilizer to the fields?"
"Yes, cotton loves potassium, and every year I spend quite a bit on it, whether it’s chemical fertilizers or the organic ones we compost," Zhou Qizheng indeed devoted much effort to this stretch of cotton land.
"But now, there isn’t a trace of potassium in the soil, and the content of other fertilizers like phosphate and zinc is also very low," Zhou Ziang picked up a fistful of sandy soil and pinched it between his fingers, "So, you should understand now."
Zhou Qizheng stood rooted to the spot.
"It’s not just these few acres of land, but even the hillside next to us, all the soil is lacking in nutrients, so I’m saying it’s not suitable for cotton. It isn’t even suitable for any other crop. If you don’t believe me, you can take some soil samples to a lab in Urumqi to have them checked," Zhou Ziang said regretfully. Pali Dan looked at her father, and said softly, "Don’t be like that."
Zhou Qizheng waved his hand and walked over to hold his daughter’s hand as they made their heavy-footed way across the field ridges. The cotton plants in the fields bore green cotton bolls, dull and lusterless.
**
Thanks to "Ning Zhihai" for the fan tickets~
**(To be continued. If you like this work, you’re welcome to vote with your recommendation tickets and monthly tickets on Qidian (qidian.com). Your support is my greatest motivation.)