Spring comes to the desperate place

Chapter 273 Teaching

Only when he stood on the clean street did Song Chunlin dare to take a deep breath, and Gu Fengyue beside him laughed.

"If you don't like it, why do you have to go there yourself? Can't you just let the servants do it?"

Song Chunlin shook his head: "You don't understand, this is also a kind of enjoyment."

Okay, Gu Fengyue said that he really didn’t understand.

"By the way, the paper mill has already made what you want. I asked them to send it to the Marquis' Mansion. Let's go take a look together."

When Song Chunlin heard that the product had been made, he quickly grabbed Gu Fengyue's arm and shouted excitedly: "Hurry, hurry, I want to take a look!"

So the two of them went to the Marquis' Mansion. Song Chunlin ran to the Mansion in a hurry and happened to meet workers who were delivering something. When they saw Song Chunlin and Gu Fengyue, the manager in charge hurried forward to greet them.

"My two masters, we have brought the goods here. Do you want to inspect them now?"

Song Chunlin at least still had some sense. He asked them to carry the things into the marquis' mansion before opening the boxes. He saw that several thin wooden boxes were filled with paper, but it was not rice paper, but straw paper.

The butler and the servants were still looking forward to it, but when they opened the box, this is what was inside?

toilet paper?

There were ten full boxes of toilet paper, and yet the two young masters were so happy.

Not to mention that the servants found it strange, even Gu Fengyue thought, what was there to be happy about with just these pieces of straw paper?

Song Chunlin picked up a stack of straw paper and held it in front of Gu Fengyue like offering a treasure.

"Look, is this any different from the toilet paper you usually use?"

Gu Fengyue reached out and picked up a piece of paper, and as soon as he touched it, he felt something seemed wrong.

"This paper is so soft and tough. The straw paper we used to use would easily tear if pulled, but this one won't. Huh?" The housekeeper tore open a piece of paper, only to find that there was something else about it.

Gu Fengyue also discovered it. He was surprised to see that after the straw paper in his hand was torn open, several layers of paper as thin as a cicada's wing were revealed.

"This isn't just one sheet, but several layers stacked together?"

The housekeeper also woke up as if from a dream: "Oh, so that's how it is. A thin layer is easy to tear, but after several layers are stacked together, the paper is not so easy to tear. But how can this paper be so thin? It's incredible."

The manager of the paper mill who had been standing beside him had a proud look on his face. He smiled and explained to everyone: "This is all thanks to the book that Master Song gave us. If it weren't for that book, we wouldn't be able to make this kind of straw paper."

"Right, I said it would work. Moreover, this paper is easier to make than Xuan paper, and the material used is only bamboo, which is much cheaper than the wood used by the Lin family. Bamboo grows very fast, and there are bamboos in both the north and the south. If we just want to use it to make straw paper, we can directly use local materials. We can save a lot of money just on the transportation of materials."

Gu Fengyue stroked the paper in his hand and said, "What price do you want to sell these straw papers for, Chunlin? If you sell them at the same price as other straw papers, then yours is of much higher quality. I'm afraid you will be targeted by other paper mills."

This is also a problem, so Song Chunlin does not plan to sell it in large quantities. He wants to put these straw papers into the high-end market first. The quantity is small and the price is high. Even if other paper mills have complaints about this, the lower-level market is still their world. Song Chunlin's share is still relatively small, so it will not affect their cake.

And straw paper was just a stepping stone for Song Chunlin. What he ultimately wanted to open up was the market for Xuan paper. What he really wanted to do was to lower the price of paper and lower the threshold for reading.

The marquis's mansion had its own industry. Unlike the rule in other dynasties where officials were not allowed to do business, many officials in the Dajing Dynasty also had other businesses to make a living, which was also related to the appointment system of court officials.

There are three grocery stores under the name of the Marquis' Mansion, two of which are in the North City. The North City is mostly populated by ordinary people, which does not match the high-end market that Song Chunlin expected, so he set his sights on the one in the East City.

The things sold in the shops in the East Market are obviously higher-end than those in the North Market. Straw paper is considered suitable to be placed here. Its price is three times that of ordinary straw paper. Ordinary straw paper is twenty wen each, which is already very expensive. Ordinary civilians would never buy it. The straw paper sold by Song Chunlin is sixty wen each, which is twenty wen cheaper than the lowest grade rice paper. Such expensive straw paper attracted a lot of discussion on the first day it was put on display.

They all said that the shopkeeper was a fool, as he dared to sell straw paper at a price almost the same as rice paper.

The shopkeeper didn't explain, but just smiled at everyone who complained about the high prices.

"This is the price set by the owner. I'm not sure."

Some people touched the straw paper and felt that it was softer and thicker than ordinary paper, but after asking about the price, they backed off and chose ordinary straw paper.

After the straw paper was put on the market, Song Chunlin asked everyone to work overtime to study the simplest white paper and try to make red paper before the end of the year. He has arranged people to take care of the printing. By then, they will print out couplets with the word "Fu" and sell them directly in the countryside. There are few educated people in the countryside, so this kind of couplets will definitely sell well.

When Song Chunlin thought about the huge income the paper mill would have during the New Year, he was so happy that he almost jumped up.

Gu Fengyue didn't quite understand: "Why straw paper? I thought you would just use rice paper?"

Song Chunlin shrank his neck: "Isn't it because I'm afraid of offending those noble families? I started with the humble straw paper, and then the most common and cheap white paper. As for the market, I have to grab it bit by bit. This is called moistening things silently."

Gu Fengyue tapped his head: "Why do you have so many thoughts in your little head?"

Song Chunlin covered his head and bared his teeth at him: "It's just a lot, what do you think?"

"Of course not. It's good to have ideas so you won't be bullied."

Song Chunlin was dissatisfied: "Who dares to bully me?"

After things at the paper mill were arranged, the Song family's rice finally matured. Song Dazhuang and Song Dahao stayed in the fields every day and did not dare to close their eyes for several days. When the rice was ripe, the two brothers hugged each other and howled like crazy, letting everyone within ten miles around know that their second season of rice was ripe.

"Congratulations, Brother Song. You actually managed to grow it. Can you tell us how you did it?"

The old farmer next to them also looked at them curiously, with hungry eyes. Who wouldn't want to grow two crops on a piece of land in a year? Wouldn't that be equivalent to doubling the annual harvest?

If the output per acre of land is 600 kilograms, and two crops are planted a year, double that would be 1,200 kilograms. An adult man only consumes about 300 to 400 kilograms a year. This doubled amount can feed three adult men for a year. Who wouldn't be tempted?

Song Dazhuang saw everyone's expectations and raised his hand to signal everyone to be quiet. After everyone around him stopped, he shouted loudly to the surroundings:

"Everyone, I know that you all want to learn how to grow two-season rice. You can learn, but my family is still waiting for the rice harvest. Let me collect the grains next month and calculate the total amount. Then I can tell you whether it is worth growing two-season rice."

One of the older farmers heard what he said and readily agreed: "Brother Song is an open-minded person. Let's let him finish the work in the fields first. We still have to see how much the output is, right?"

Everyone nodded in agreement, but in fact they had a rough estimate in their minds. They were all veterans who had been farming for many years. They could roughly estimate the output of the fields with just a glance, and the final output was basically the same. At this time, someone had already estimated the output of the Song family's land. It should be more than 600 kilograms at most. The Song family's land has always been well cultivated, and the yield is higher than that of other families. Some people estimated that it should be more than that.

After sending off the villagers who came to watch the fun, Song Dazhuang asked Song Dahao to stay at home and went back to find Song Chunlin, asking him to go to the military camp and bring people to harvest the rice.

Song Chunlin was surprised and asked, "Is it mature already?"

Song Dazhuang was delighted: "The weather has been good these days, and it's more than ten days earlier than we expected. Hehe, it's good that it's early. It's just right to take advantage of the good weather now to dry the rice and store it in the warehouse."

Song Chunlin said he understood, so he went out before dawn the next day, and came back with more than a hundred people when the sun just rose. The group was so large that Song Dazhuang was startled. Looking at this huge group of men, he suddenly felt that he should discipline his son.

After Song Chunlin arranged the tasks for the soldiers, Song Dazhuang quickly pulled his son to the corner.

"You are already engaged, so don't go to the military camp alone all day, especially before dawn. If people see you, you will inevitably get gossiped about."

Song Chunlin shrugged, indicating that he didn't care, and Song Dazhuang felt very disappointed.

"You don't care, but do others not care?" Song Dazhuang couldn't help but raise his voice a little, then lowered it like a thief: "It's just that Fengyue has a good temper and doesn't care about you. If it was another boy who stayed with a group of men all day, it would be strange if his in-laws didn't have any objections."

Song Chunlin looked puzzled: "Is it really like this?"

Song Dazhuang nodded firmly, and he was really worried about his son.

However, Song Chunlin was not very grateful. He raised another question: "But those 3,000 archers were given to me by the emperor. I don't care about my own soldiers. Should I give them to others?"

Good question, and Song Dazhuang has no answer.

After asking the question, Song Chunlin ignored his old father who was in a dilemma. He turned and walked towards his own fields to watch other people work.

There is strength in numbers. The Song family did not plant a lot of second-season rice, only 16 acres in total. This group of energetic soldiers finished the harvest in one day, and their speed was comparable to that of a human harvester. Song Chunlin expressed his satisfaction.

All the freshly harvested millet was threshed on the second day. A rough calculation showed that the total yield was more than 13,000 kilograms. If it was dried in the sun to remove the moisture, the yield per mu of land could reach 700 kilograms, which was higher than their estimated yield. Song Dazhuang originally estimated the yield to be 600 kilograms, and 650 kilograms would be a bumper harvest.

Now the yield per mu has reached 700 kilograms. This is the first time to plant two crops of rice. If the weather is the same next year, Song Dazhuang is confident that the yield per mu can reach 800 kilograms.

Upon hearing the yield, not only the old farmers in the village were shocked, but the soldiers who were helping with the harvest were also jaw-dropping.

A few people who couldn't sit still had already started discussing privately. Those who came this time had participated in the harvest last season. They still remembered that the output of the Song family's land was 860 kilograms per mu. In their eyes, 800 kilograms was already a very high yield. They didn't expect that the rice planted in this round could reach 700 kilograms per mu. Such a high yield was unheard of by them before.

Some soldiers who came from farming families had even more complicated feelings. In previous years, the grain grown by their families was no more than 400 to 500 kilograms at most. In a good year, the yield per mu could reach 600 kilograms. Even these 600 kilograms were the result of the careful service of the whole family. However, the Song family could easily reach a yield of 800 kilograms per mu. The difference was quite big.

Song Dazhuang has been in high spirits recently, just like when he promoted potatoes and sweet potatoes in the village. He also asked people to inform the villagers, and the day after the grain was stored in the warehouse, he couldn't wait to share with everyone how to grow two crops of rice.

Looking at his father like this, Song Chunlin felt that his father had the potential to be an expert. He spoke very clearly and could quote various theories at will. He could also answer everyone's questions with ease.

Song Chunlin looked at the workshop that was so crowded with people that there was no room to stand, and wondered if he could open a school on the spot and teach nothing else but farming.

After seeing everyone off in the evening, Song Chunlin shared his idea with his family, but was met with disapproval from the whole family.

Song A-mo was the first to raise doubts: "It's just farming. The tricks are passed down from generation to generation. Who would want to learn this?"

Grandpa Song, who always supported his grandson, did not stand on his grandson's side this time. He shook his head at Song Chunlin and said, "Your grandfather is right. Farming is a thing that has been passed down from generation to generation. Compared to what you teach them, they are more willing to believe in what their ancestors have passed down."

But Song Chunlin did not want to compromise. He used his own family as an example: "What if I can produce evidence that convinces them? What if I can make this evidence bloom all over the land of Dajing?"

He used his own family as an example, which was hard to refute. In the end, Song Dazhuang could only weakly say that he was not suitable.

"I am a rough guy, and most people know what I know. What can I teach them?"

Song Chunlin put his hands on his waist and looked at his unconfident father: "Dad, aren't the things you said in the workshop during the day all unknown to them? When those people came to ask you how to grow potatoes and sweet potatoes, weren't you also explaining them in a clear and logical manner? Just show the same attitude you showed during the day, and it will definitely work."

"Really?" Song Dazhuang was still not very confident. In his opinion, sharing experience with others and teaching others how to farm were two different concepts.