[Post-Apocalyptic Farming] [Stockpiling Food] [Farming] [Infrastructure Building] [Rags-to-Riches] [Feel-Good] [No System]
The black rain lasted forty days. The crops were wiped out, and human lives were worth less than a handful of wheat seeds!
My name is Tieniu. I was born a refugee, and for four years I farmed alone in the mountains to survive. I fought bandits over land and risked my life against wild dogs.
At long last, I made it into the Beihe Base, only to be given thirty mu of salty, alkaline wasteland and told, "If you know how to farm, why be picky about the land?"
They don't understand: there are two kinds of alkaline soil.
The kind that reaches the bone is beyond even the gods' help. But when the alkali is only on the surface, dig ditches, turn the soil, leach out the salts, and you can grow crops in a year!
I don't rely on a System or special powers. I rely on hands that can read the soil, choose the right seeds, and predict the weather!
A forty-person team can farm a hundred mu of fertile land and hand over twelve thousand catties of grain in a year.
I have thirty mu of alkaline wasteland all to myself, and a goal of four hundred catties per mu.
While the whole base laughs at me, I'll hand over more grain than an entire team!
Thirty mu is only the beginning.
Today I farm alkaline wasteland, tomorrow I take over barren hills, and the day after that, the entire wasteland will be my granary!
When everyone at the base is fighting over half a steamed bun, they'll remember:
That big fool sent to the alkaline wasteland had already taken his livelihood into his own hands.
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