Chapter 012 Desiccant

As Yang Tian had expected, Huang Biao managed to borrow forty thousand yuan from the city as starting capital. Zhong Bangcai and Zhong Qian even assured them that, should it not be enough, they could simply take the bus to fetch more. This put both the Yang and Zhong families at ease.

A new style scale was purchased, and a Feihu-brand tricycle was hired, kicking off their grand grain hoarding plan. Last year’s late rice and this year’s early rice had yielded well, so in the city, early rice was selling for forty yuan a dan, and late rice for thirty-eight. In the countryside, prices were even lower—thirty-nine for early rice, thirty-seven for late.

Following Yang Tian’s suggestion, Yang Bao and Huang Biao set their purchase price at forty-one yuan per dan for early rice, and thirty-nine for late rice. With prices this high, the surrounding villages erupted with excitement—buyers coming by tricycle right to their doors, offering a full yuan more than the city. Who wouldn’t be tempted? Late rice could be sold at the price of early rice, and many villagers emptied their stores.

Within a week, Yang Bao and Huang Biao had collected a thousand dan of rice—four hundred of early rice and six hundred of late. Though both men were exhausted, they were elated. Huang Biao wanted to go back to Zhong Bangcai for another eighty thousand yuan to hoard two thousand more dan, but Yang Bao and the others talked him out of it. Hoarding too much grain was risky—if they lost, they’d never recover. And the more grain, the harder it was to keep dry and free from rats.

So, with the twenty thousand yuan Yang Bao had scraped together, they bought five hundred more dan—two hundred of early rice, three hundred of late—and then stopped, turning their attention to warehouse management.

In the countryside, managing a grain warehouse revolves around three things: theft prevention, rodent control, and moisture proofing.

To prevent locals from sneaking in to steal grain, Yang Bao and Huang Biao simply moved into a small hut beside the warehouse. Li Xiuying and Zhong Hehua took turns bringing them meals, sometimes with Yang Tian and Huang Juan stepping in to help.

As for rats, Yang Bao and Huang Biao had their tricks—country folk have long experience in such matters. They deployed traps of all sizes and more than ten kinds of rodent poison. Even every cat in the village was borrowed and kept in the warehouse.

But the most crucial issue was moisture. As Yang Tian had predicted, floods soon swept the Jianghuai region, reaching Binhai City. Rich fields were submerged, and the recently planted crops were all destroyed.

This disaster brought both opportunity and headache to Yang Bao and Huang Biao. The weather forecast warned of a month of heavy rain, which would quickly spoil hoarded grain. The village warehouse was better than any farm storehouse—ventilation windows and moisture-proof flooring—but these features were barely adequate. The windows had to be shut tight to keep out the rain, which left the rice vulnerable to dampness. Within a week, moisture began to seep through the floorboards.

If this continued, the rice would sprout within two weeks, then mold and rot. Yang Tian and Huang Biao grew anxious, at a loss for a solution.

Neighbors quietly watched, waiting for Yang Tian and Huang Biao to fail. At first, they’d marveled at the duo’s foresight and business acumen, but as the rain poured on for more than a week with no sign of stopping, they began to gloat, convinced this grain hoarding would end in disaster and leave both families in hardship for a decade.

The Yang and Huang families were tense indeed. Grain prices would certainly rise by year’s end, but how could they keep the rice safe until then? In fact, they didn’t need to hold out that long—just until the golden autumn, when prices began to climb.

But given the current conditions, even that seemed unlikely. All the money for hoarding had been borrowed—if anything went wrong, it would be a disgrace, and paying back the debt could ruin them.

“Brother, what are you doing?” That morning, the rain had stopped. Though the sky was still heavy with clouds, the downpour had finally relented. Yang Xueling was startled to find Yang Tian squatting by the lime heap in the backyard.

“I’m making desiccants. With these, the rice in the warehouse won’t get damp or moldy.” Yang Tian held up a small gauze bag, smiling faintly.

Ever since he’d persuaded Yang Bao and his wife to hoard grain, he had realized moisture control would be the critical point, so he had started preparing desiccants early on.

There were no advanced chemical desiccants in the countryside, but there were readily available substitutes—lime. Through simple processing, his gauze bags contained not only lime, but also caustic soda and soda lime.

Because caustic soda is highly corrosive, Yang Tian used only a little in each bag. But mixing it with lime and soda lime produced a remarkably effective homemade desiccant.

“Desiccants? Those little gauze bags filled with lime can keep the rice dry and mold-free?” Yang Xueling frowned in amazement, pointing at the pile of bags behind Yang Tian.

“Yes. With these, Dad and Mom’s troubles will soon be over.” Yang Tian responded with confidence.

“Really? So that’s why you’ve been here making bags every day! I thought you were just playing. There must be a hundred bags here already?” Hearing that her parents’ worries could be solved, Yang Xueling’s face lit up with delight.

“Two hundred and seven, to be exact! Go tell Mom to bring the sacks I asked her to borrow yesterday. We’re heading to the warehouse.” Yang Tian finished the last bag, wiped the sweat from his brow, and gently urged his sister.

“So many? You’re amazing, Brother! I’ll go get Mom right away!” she replied joyfully and ran off.

They had borrowed every spare grain sack from the village—three hundred in total: burlap sacks, hemp-twine bags, even fertilizer bags—enough to fill a cart.

Yang Tian’s desiccants filled another cart. Li Xiuying and Zhong Hehua each pulled a cart, with Yang Tian, Huang Juan, and Yang Xueling pushing from behind, all headed for the warehouse.

“What’s all this?” Yang Bao and Huang Biao were puzzled to see the two women pulling carts loaded with goods.

“This is Yang Tian’s idea—he’s found a way to prevent dampness!” Li Xiuying replied, drenched with sweat but smiling. Zhong Hehua nodded in agreement.

It wasn’t that the two women lacked initiative; they had just listened to Yang Tian’s explanation. His solution made perfect sense, and now Li Xiuying understood why he’d asked her to borrow every spare sack in the village the day before.

“What’s the plan?” Yang Bao and Huang Biao looked at Yang Tian with delighted anticipation.