Chapter 037: The Plastic Greenhouse

Upon entering, Yang Qingtang, seeing that Zhang Qiang was also interested in calligraphy, immediately invited him into his room for a tour. Despite living in the countryside, Yang Qingtang’s chamber rivaled the study of a master calligrapher; apart from a wooden bed, it was filled with paintings and, most notably, calligraphy works.

Yet, it was not his own creations that Yang Qingtang introduced to Zhang Qiang and his wife, but those of Yang Tian. Under his guidance, Yang Tian had made remarkable progress—no wonder the old man wore a smile so bright each day.

“With your mentorship, I’m sure Yang Tian will win first prize next year!” Zhang Qiang and his wife, well aware of Yang Tian’s participation in the upcoming calligraphy competition, spoke with cheerful optimism.

“It’s not winning that matters most, but nurturing a heart devoted to the heritage of our culture,” Yang Qingtang replied, coughing softly.

“Absolutely! But you must also take care of yourself. Yang Tian often tells us how worried he is about your health. He says that once he earns enough, he’ll take you to the city’s hospital for a full check-up, and then properly nurse you back to health… Why are you glaring at me? I didn’t make that up!” Zhang Qiang, finding easy conversation with Yang Qingtang, was suddenly startled by Fang Li’s glare.

“Yang Tian told us to keep that secret,” Fang Li whispered.

“Oh, right, I forgot! Haha, but it’s good for the old gentleman to know how much Yang Tian cares for him.” Zhang Qiang was first surprised, then laughed awkwardly.

The three of them laughed together. Seeing how much Zhang Qiang and his wife valued Yang Tian, Yang Qingtang felt deeply gratified—proof that Yang Tian was a child of upright character.

When Yang Bao and his wife learned that Zhang Qiang and his wife had arrived, they too were delighted and hurried in from the fields to cook. Yang Bao originally wanted to buy fresh fish and meat from the nearby market, but Zhang Qiang and his wife stopped him.

Zhang Qiang and his wife insisted on a simple farmhouse meal—not out of affectation, but nostalgia. They themselves had lived in the countryside not so long ago, having moved to town less than ten years prior. They missed the genuine flavors and rustic simplicity of rural cooking.

At Yang Tian’s urging, Yang Bao and his wife acquiesced and started preparing farmhouse dishes. Huang Biao and his wife came to assist as well. After all, Zhang Qiang and his wife had helped the Yang family immensely; were it not for the direct sales through Zhang Qiang’s textile factory, the Yangs would not have earned money so effortlessly from their greenhouse vegetables.

Li Xiuying and Zhong Hehua took charge of the kitchen, quickly producing a table laden with country dishes—shredded eggplant with green peppers, scallions stir-fried with cured pork, braised salted fish, tiny dried shrimp, tomato and egg soup, cabbage and tofu soup… Zhang Qiang’s family of three ate with great delight.

“This cured pork is delicious!… The dried fish is wonderful… These little dried shrimp taste better than lobster!” Zhang Xinyu chattered as she ate, making everyone at the table laugh heartily. Only Yang Xueling was less than pleased, for the cured pork, dried fish, and shrimp were family delicacies, usually reserved for festivals. Now, they had all been served to Zhang Xinyu’s family.

Yang Bao and his wife, however, were unconcerned. Since Zhang Qiang and his wife had accepted Yang Tian as their godson, the Yang family would treat the Zhangs as honored guests—as their own family.

“Bao, I checked the greenhouse and noticed a problem: the vegetables aren’t growing very large—peppers are small, tomatoes are small… Also, your plot is a little cramped. Later this year, I may expand the textile factory to Binhai City; with more workers, there won’t be enough vegetables to go around!” Zhang Qiang, younger than Yang Bao, respectfully called him “Brother Bao.”

“I’ve noticed that too, but no matter how much fertilizer I use, nothing grows bigger! As for the size of the plot, don’t worry—I’ve decided to fence off a few more acres later this year, all for vegetables. Your workers won’t go hungry!” Yang Bao was baffled at first, then broke into a smile.

“Sounds like there’s a problem with your cultivation techniques. I suggest you consult an agricultural expert,” said Fang Li, sipping tasty winter melon soup. “Wait, wasn’t the greenhouse idea Yang Tian’s? Yang Tian, tell us—why is this happening?”

“It’s a matter of sunlight! Our greenhouse uses gaps between glass and reed mats to let in sunlight and promote photosynthesis. But this lighting is weak and affects temperature inside the greenhouse, so the vegetables can’t grow large!” Yang Tian set down his chopsticks and explained. In truth, this kind of greenhouse cultivation was rather primitive, not unlike the countryside method of covering seeded plots with straw.

Such greenhouses not only failed to produce premium vegetables, but the ripening cycle was long. From the start of the year to now, the vegetables had matured only twice, and Yang Bao and his wife had earned just a thousand yuan. For rural folk, this was impressive, but it fell short of Yang Tian’s expectations.

Still, as the saying goes, a skyscraper rises from flat ground. Yang Tian was prepared to proceed step by step and had always considered how to improve the greenhouse. Now, with the three families together and discussing the issue, he decided to seize the opportunity and solve it once and for all.

“Is there a solution?” Fang Li, direct as always, asked.

“Remove the reed mats and replace them with plastic film. That’ll solve all the problems!” Yang Tian replied with a smile.

“Plastic film? Is that plastic sheeting?” Yang Bao perked up. If it was plastic sheeting, that could be easily bought at the market.

“No, plastic sheeting is actually worse than reed mats. What we need is agricultural-grade plastic film, ideally greenhouse film. It must be specially made—excellent for insulation, moisture retention, frost protection, and promoting photosynthesis!” Yang Tian, having studied the subject extensively, kept his explanation simple so that Yang Bao and the others could follow.

“Where can we buy it?” Huang Biao, listening in, asked eagerly.

“It’s available in the city, but too expensive. If we could buy a batch from Shandong, that would be ideal!” Yang Tian said confidently. He had researched the matter: Shandong, closest to Binhai, had begun producing agricultural plastic film in the 1980s. After a decade, manufacturers were plentiful and prices reasonable thanks to competition.

“Oh dear, if we have to go to Shandong, this plastic greenhouse may not happen!” Li Xiuying looked troubled.

“Yes! I wonder if godfather can help us buy some from Shandong?” Yang Tian asked Zhang Qiang with a smile, seizing the moment. Zhang Qiang’s textile factory shipped products to Shandong and Jiangsu, so who better to ask?

Previously, they hadn’t wanted to trouble him further, since Zhang Qiang had already helped resolve the vegetable sales. But now things were different; with Zhang Qiang bringing his wife and child to visit, it was clear he truly regarded the Yangs as family. Surely, if asked to help purchase plastic film while distributing his goods in Shandong, he would not refuse.