Chapter 300 Can scientists be wrong?
When the peasant comrade heard that Wang Deming was going to the countryside to collect folk songs, he was extremely happy. He smiled and showed his big yellow teeth. He pulled his arm and insisted that he stay at his home: "Comrade Deming, if you are going to the countryside to collect folk songs, then my home is just right for you!"

"My family belongs to Suiping County Satellite Cooperative! It's not far from here. Look, that's the donkey cart that came to pick me up from the cooperative!"

"Let me tell you, the wheat in our cooperative is growing very well this year! We'll start harvesting it in two days. Haha, it's a good opportunity for you to take a few more photos for us."

"Is this appropriate?" Wang Deming declined hypocritically, "I'm worried that it will affect your rush to harvest."

"Hey! With you, the reporter, by our side, we will work even harder! If our agricultural production can be reported in the newspaper, all of us will be so happy!"

The farmer comrade’s surname is Zhao, his nickname is Zhao Dadan, his real name is Zhao Youliang, and he is now the deputy director of the cooperative and the captain of the production team. He has been an expert in farming for many years and this time he went to Beijing to participate in technical training from the Ministry of Agriculture.

Since the establishment of the Chinese Academy of Sciences in 53 and the Chinese Academy of Agricultural Sciences the year before last, the research on agricultural technology, from seeds to planting to harvesting, has been progressing in an orderly manner. Every year, the Ministry of Agriculture organizes farming experts from all over the country to come to Beijing to learn and exchange with each other.

The masses are the creators of history. The Party has always been good at learning from the masses, coming from the masses and going to the masses. The same is true for agricultural technology, especially in the selection of seeds, which must rely on the vast number of skilled farmers.

Therefore, the per-acre wheat yield has increased from about 200 jin before liberation to 350-400 jin.

After getting out of Zhumadian Railway Station and getting on a donkey cart, the villagers who came to pick up Zhao Dadan were overjoyed to learn that they were welcoming a reporter to collect materials. They kept cracking the whip of the donkey cart.

The shaky journey began. It was said not far, but it ended up taking at least half a day. I got off the bus at noon and finally arrived at the cooperative in the dark at night.

I drank all the water in the kettle, ate the steamed buns I brought, and my legs were numb from sitting. How could this be called not far?

Zhao Dadan was still in high spirits. As he approached the cooperative, he could see twinkling stars in the distance. The lights of thousands of homes and the twinkling stars in the sky complemented each other, creating a beautiful scene.

Soon, I saw young and old men sitting under the big tree at the entrance of the village to enjoy the cool. Some people were reading newspapers under the kerosene lamps hanging on the tree. They were reading local newspapers from Henan: "Well, we have to work harder. Our neighboring county said that the expected yield per mu is 1000 catties, and in Hubei Naha, there is a yield of 2000 catties per mu!"

"How can this be possible? Our commune has been ranked first in grain production for many years!"

"Especially since our men built a reservoir last winter and piled up compost well, we have no shortage of water or fertilizer. How could we be outdone by them?"

"That's not right, young man. Did you look carefully? I've been farming for so many years, and I know at a glance how much grain we can produce per mu of land! At most, 500 kilograms. How could they possibly produce 1 or 2 kilograms?"

"Let me take a closer look!" The young man who was reading the newspaper read it again carefully: "Oh, they said they applied base fertilizer four times, and then piled them together in the experimental field after raising the seedlings, planted them densely, and applied chemical fertilizers every month."

"Fertilizer? But where can we buy fertilizer?"

"Yeah. I've only heard about fertilizer, but I've never seen it. I wonder if Lao Zhao can find a way to buy some when he goes to Beijing for a meeting this time."

"Old Zhao is back!"

As the donkey cart approached the tree, a group of people quickly stood up and surrounded the donkey cart, saying in unison: "Old Zhao, did you meet the leaders during your meeting in Beijing this time?"

"Old Zhao, the young man just said that some counties can produce more than 1000 kilograms of grain. Is that true?"

"Old Zhao"

"Stop!" Zhao Dabao stood on the donkey cart and waved his hand with high spirits: "I am very encouraged to attend the meeting in Beijing this time!"

"Scientists have said that as long as we plant scientifically, it is not a fantasy to achieve an output of 1 to 2 kilograms per mu!"

"It is said that we utilize less than 5% of the sun's energy. As long as we can increase it to 10%, we can probably produce not only 1 to 2 kilograms, but also 1 kilograms!" "What? Oh my God! 1 kilograms! Am I dreaming? Can we eat all the food?" An old man with only one tooth left, leaning on a walking stick, muttered to himself in a daze.

The young man who was reading the newspaper was also confused. "Well, Lao Zhao, you said to use sunlight? How can we use it? It will be dark by then!"

"Pa!" The young man was slapped on the back of his head. "Why are you calling me Old Zhao? Call me Uncle Zhao! You have no respect for your elders!"

"Haha, that's all! We are all equal now." Zhao Dabing laughed: "I don't quite understand either, but does the growth of all things depend on the sun? Scientists say so, so it must make sense!"

At this time, someone finally noticed Wang Deming on the donkey cart and asked, "Hey, Lao Zhao, why did you bring someone back with you?"

"Haha! This is reporter Wang whom I met on the train! He's going to the countryside to collect some information, so I invited him back to our agency! When the harvest season starts in a couple of days, let reporter Wang take more pictures of us! Maybe all of us can be featured in the newspaper!"

Zhao Dabing was extremely proud at this time.

"Wow! A reporter!"

"Hey, you look pretty cool as a reporter!"

"Yes, she is so delicate and tender! You can tell at a glance that she is cultured and knowledgeable!"

Zhao Dadan continued to show off: "See? Reporter Wang has the most advanced camera hanging on his chest. We don't have any in our county. It's specially used for shooting news!"

"Wow!" The young and old in the village exclaimed again.

"Hurry up, you, you're quick, go to the station and ask people to prepare food. We only ate two steamed buns on the way off the train, and reporter Wang is starving. Let's kill chickens and pigs in advance tonight and eat fine grains!"

"Oh!" The crowd cheered in unison again!

"Don't kill them, don't slaughter them! It's not easy to raise livestock in our community. Let's save them for the New Year!" But Wang Deming had no room to speak.

Old Zhao continued to laugh proudly: "Reporter Wang, our commune has been paying public grain for many years. We hang red flowers and hold red flags every year and serve as role models! Apart from the amount paid to the state, minus the commune's reserves: provident fund, public welfare fund, and management fees, our commune has enough food every year and even has surplus grain!"

"Every year before we start harvesting, we slaughter pigs and eat meat. We eat last year's fine grains first! After the harvest, we have a bowl of fresh noodles made from this year's new wheat. I tell you, you don't need to add anything to the noodles made from the new wheat flour, just a little salt, and they will be delicious!"

"You can eat without worry!"

"Haha, comrade reporter, just listen to Lao Zhao and eat with confidence!" The men and women around him also laughed and invited Wang Deming.

Don't laugh at the farmers' wine, which is abundant in the year of harvest and has plenty of chickens and pigs to entertain guests.

A raging fire was lit in the threshing ground in front of the cooperative office. Several strong men were carrying a large wooden pole with a pig with its four legs tied tightly in the middle of the pole, howling continuously.

Several peasant women grabbed the rooster's neck with one hand and used a kitchen knife in the other to cut the chicken's neck. Suddenly, the bright chicken blood drew an accurate arc and fell into a large bowl on the ground.

The children jumped and clapped their hands, swallowing their saliva from time to time.

How lively!

(End of this chapter)