CHAPTER 2: SEEDS AND STRANGERS
Wei Jian stared at Jiang Qiyu for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he shook his head slightly, a small smile touching his lips.
"Making land grow takes more than good intentions, sister. The soil here is thin, and we've got no fertilizer to speak of. Even if you were well enough to work it tomorrow—which you're not—you'd struggle to get enough for the five of you."
Jiang Qiyu leaned back against the wall, her mind already mapping out possibilities. In her modern life, she'd turned barren industrial lots into thriving urban farms; she'd developed drought-resistant crops and built supply chains that connected small producers to big markets. None of that existed here—but the principles were the same.
"Fertilizer we can make," she said, looking at Da Wei. "Tell me—are there any animal pens in the village? Pigsties, chicken coops?"
The boy nodded eagerly. "Uncle Li has pigs, and most families keep chickens. But we can't afford to buy manure, Mom."
"You don't need to buy it," Jiang Qiyu said. "We'll trade for it. What do we have to offer?"
Before Da Wei could answer, a new voice cut through the room—clear, sharp, and carrying the accent of someone used to city life.
"Not much, by the looks of things."
The door swung wide, letting in a blast of cold morning air. A man stood in the doorway, dressed in a well-tailored jacket and trousers that looked completely out of place in the dusty village. He was tall, with dark hair styled neatly, and his eyes scanned the room with a businessman's calculating gaze before settling on Jiang Qiyu.
"Zhou Yang," he said, stepping inside and offering a hand that she couldn't quite bring herself to shake. "I've come about the land your family occupies—it belonged to my grandfather before the reforms. I'm here to reclaim it."
The blood drained from Da Wei's face. He stepped forward, small shoulders squared in defiance. "This is our home! We've lived here since before I was born!"
Zhou Yang's lips twisted into a condescending smile. "I'm not going to throw you out onto the street, boy. I'll give you enough money to find somewhere else to live—though I'll admit, options are limited around here. Or you can work for me once I've developed the land into a proper farm."
Jiang Qiyu watched him closely, noting the way his eyes kept drifting to the window, to the fields beyond. He wasn't just here for family property—he saw potential, the same potential she did.
"Develop it how?" she asked, her voice calm despite the tension in the room.
He turned to her, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment longer than necessary. "I have connections in the city. I'll plant cash crops—cotton, tobacco—hire workers from the village, build proper facilities. It'll be good for everyone."
"Except the families who lose their land," Jiang Qiyu countered. "What happens to them when you turn their only means of survival into a commercial operation?"
"That's business," he said simply. "The old ways can't last forever. Times are changing."
"Then let them change for the better," she shot back. "Not just for your profit."