Back to 1980: Farming the Sea and Expanding the Island

At the edge of the field, Sun Wei carefully examined the veins on the spinach leaves for a while before remembering her business.

He hurriedly unpacked the camera, revealing a slightly worn Seagull twin-lens reflex camera.

"Comrade Lin Chuan," her voice came from behind the camera, muffled, "could you take a look at these seedlings like you usually do?"

Lin Chuan nodded.

Sun Wei held up her camera and first photographed the vegetable seedlings in the greenhouse, then the mouth of the sweet water well, then the image of Technician Wang taking notes, and finally the mud-covered hoe on the edge of the field.

Each shot required fiddling with the camera for a long time, and after taking the picture, I would lean close to check the counter and mutter, "The seventeenth one..."

As she left, Sun Wei carefully wrapped the camera in layers, held it in her arms, let out a long sigh of relief, and her eyes beamed with joy.

"Comrade Lin Chuan, thank you so much."

Sun Wei gently patted the small bag and quietly exhaled.

I felt much more relaxed and said with a smile, "I'll definitely write it well when I get back. Our editor said that if the content is good, we can try to publish a news article."

Lin Chuan followed along, unable to suppress a smile.

This girl is really a novice; she's very cautious in everything she does.

Sun Wei left, and we don't know when her report will come out. Technician Wang returned to the county and told everyone about the interview he gave about the experimental field.

Everyone at the Academy of Agricultural Sciences was delighted to hear this and became more interested in and attentive to the experimental site on Canhong Island.

Su Yanqiu was also very happy, and when Technician Wang came again, he brought a letter with him.

There is also some related information. He himself has recently been studying alkali-tolerant rice varieties with his teacher and made an appointment to come back next spring to check on the island's ecology.

Lin Chuan also sent a letter, describing the situation on the island and outlining his own plans, which he entrusted to Technician Wang to take back.

A day and a night passed, and when the sun shone brightly again, the entire Qingpingzhou was shrouded in mist and rain.

Fine, hair-like raindrops drifted in the air, their coolness seeping into one's heart as they touched one's skin.

"Xiaoman, there's less than a month until the holiday, right?" Lin Chuan asked softly, splashing cold water on his face.

"Yes, the teacher said it will be on the 20th," Xiaoman shook her head in response.

As soon as he finished speaking, two little heads peeked out from the doorway. Xiao Wu called out, "Xiao Man, are you ready? We've been waiting for you!"

"Coming, coming!" Xiaoman responded quickly upon hearing this, shoveled down a couple of mouthfuls of porridge, and said to her mother, "Mother, I'm done eating."

After saying that, he picked up his schoolbag and ran outside.

"It's raining, take it easy," Lin's mother said as she chased after him to the door.

"Okay~".

"This child is getting more and more mischievous."

Lin Chuan smiled and put down the towel: "Auntie, it looks like the rain won't stop, so we won't go to the island today."

Lin's mother looked up at the sky and nodded: "Perfect, your father drank quite a bit yesterday, let him rest well."

Now that it's the off-season for farming, there's basically nothing to do except for sideline jobs. Many people gather at the ends of the village to chat and gossip.

More people are playing cards now, and with the unexpected success of sea bass this year, many families are feeling more confident.

The island has stabilized, and there's no longer a need for someone to guard it every day. Yesterday, Lin's father was taken out to drink quite a bit of alcohol.

At the dinner table, the old man put down his chopsticks after only a few bites: "Huiqin, New Year's Day is in two days. Do you have enough glutinous rice at home?"

Recently, the old man's appetite has been getting worse, and he can't eat much.

"Father has prepared everything. We have plenty of time today, so we can steam it ahead of schedule," Lin's mother replied with a smile.

"Grandpa, you want to eat rice cakes?" Lin Chuan said with a smile.

The old man nodded. "I'm craving it."

Without further ado, Lin's mother took out the wooden steamer and washed it thoroughly inside and out. Lin Chuan then went to the storeroom and carried away half a bag of glutinous rice.

"This year's harvest is good, and there's plenty of glutinous rice." Lin's mother scooped out glutinous rice and put it into a basin, rubbing the rice grains between her fingertips to wash them. "In previous years, we couldn't bear to use such good rice to make rice cakes; we always had to mix in half japonica rice to make up the difference."

Lin Chuan helped pour the rinsed glutinous rice into a wooden basin and added water to soak it: "Grandma, make more this year, and send some to Grandpa and Grandma as well."

"Yes, yes, we should send it." Lin's mother smiled, her eyes crinkling. "Your grandmother loves my brown sugar rice cakes the most. She talks about them every year, saying they're better than the ones sold on the street."

Glutinous rice needs to be soaked for half a day until the grains have absorbed enough water and can be easily crushed with your fingers.

The afternoon rain hadn't stopped yet. In the kitchen, Lin's father, having sobered up, came over to help start the fire.

Pine firewood was stuffed into the stove and crackled to life, flames licking the bottom of the pot. Before long, the water in the large iron pot boiled, steaming.

Lin's mother drained the soaked glutinous rice and layered it into the wooden steamer. After each layer, she poked some air holes with chopsticks before adding the next layer, until the steamer was full.

"Steaming glutinous rice requires a strong fire and plenty of steam; it only becomes fragrant when done in one go," she said, covering the steamer with a lid and sealing the gaps tightly with a damp cloth.

Wisps of white steam rose from the edge of the steamer lid, carrying the sweet scent of glutinous rice, filling the entire courtyard.

In the afternoon, Li Jiaye came over. He had been traveling with his father on the Qingyun train recently and had gone on a trip with him.

As soon as she entered, she sniffed the air and ran inside, exclaiming, "It smells so good! Aunt Lin, are you steaming glutinous rice?"

"It's not sticky rice, it's rice for making rice cakes," Lin Chuan said with a smile. "How's boating? Fun?"

"Brother Chuanzi, don't even mention it, I'm exhausted, it wasn't fun at all," Li Jiaye complained.

Then he chuckled again: "That monkey guy went with Uncle Wang too, he'll regret it later."

"You little rascal, you're going there to work, not to play around," Lin's father said with a laugh.

Li Jiaye chuckled, unconcerned, and began to assist.

About half an hour later, as darkness fell, Lin's father lifted the wooden steamer off the stove by its handle.

The moment the lid is lifted, a burst of hot air rushes out, revealing the glutinous rice inside, which is steamed until it is crystal clear, with each grain distinct yet tightly stuck together.

"Quick, cook it while it's hot!" Lin's father called out.

Everyone pitched in.

Lin Chuan picked up the wooden steamer and poured the glutinous rice into the stone mortar in the corner of the courtyard. This stone mortar was passed down from his ancestors, and its body was worn smooth and shiny by the years.

Lin's father picked up the heavy wooden pestle, while Lin's mother placed a bowl of cool boiled water beside him.

Time flies, especially when people are working hard; the rain stopped without them even noticing.

"Wow! Brother, you guys are making rice cakes!" Xiaoman returned home and, seeing everyone's efforts, immediately ran over excitedly.

Xiao Wu and the others following behind were also drawn in.

"You're back." Lin Chuan looked at everyone, nodded, and smiled. "Xiaoman will lead everyone to do their homework, and we'll eat rice cakes later."

"Mmm, mmm." Xiaoman nodded happily.

"Thank you, Brother Xiao Chuan!" Xiao Wu replied happily, and then, led by Xiao Man, he moved a stool out and started writing not far away.

But his eyes would occasionally drift this way, and he would sniff lightly.

With the first strike, a muffled "thud" resounded, and the aroma of glutinous rice exploded forth.

Lin's father held the wooden pestle and rhythmically pounded it.

Lin Chuan stared at the stone mortar, and taking advantage of the moment when the wooden pestle was raised, he quickly dipped his hand in cold water, scraped off the rice stuck to the pestle head, and then gathered the rice from the side of the mortar towards the center.

This job requires perfect teamwork; the hammering must be steady and accurate, and the rice gathering must be quick and skillful. If you're even a little slow, the wooden pestle might hit your hand.