Chapter 2147: Chapter 1833: Look! Daylilies! (Part 2)
He really did love studying, probably because studying for him didn’t feel like a task at all.
Xiaoyang nodded and replied, "In this heat, if we don’t have to drive the farm machinery today, we should get home by around eleven in the morning."
Qiaoqiao perked up, but also felt a bit sorry for Yang Zhengxi:
"Xiaoyang, is it that your family couldn’t lease any fields nearby? All your land is this far away, that’s so pitiful."
"In our village, every household’s vegetable plots have to be close by, so it’s convenient to look after them, sow, and harvest."
But since he was a kind-hearted person, he quickly comforted his good friend as well:
"But don’t feel bad, lots of people’s fields are really far. Like my eldest uncle’s family’s hill, you have to walk forever to get there."
How long a walk is that?
The narrow path twists and turns the whole way; it takes over forty minutes to walk there, almost out past the village.
But precisely because it was the abandoned Tea Mountain, and because they had already secured jobs in the city early on, when land was being divided they just kept asking for more.
They’d figured that later on they’d be relying on Song Sancheng for their retirement and living expenses, so that’s how they discussed and divided up the land.
Sure enough, years later—just last year—he’d even complained about this again.
Yang Zhengxi knew what Qiaoqiao was saying wasn’t exactly the case for his family, but at this moment he still happily accepted Qiaoqiao’s good intentions:
"Right? I keep saying my dad and them weren’t hardworking enough back then, they didn’t arrange to have the fields close by. Otherwise, if we got up at four, had a bite to eat, then went to the fields, it’d still be early enough."
Unlike now, where they just shove down a couple of mouthfuls sometime after three and have to head out. By the time they reach the farm, it’s about four-thirty and dawn is breaking; that’s when you’re supposed to start picking daylilies.
As for whether they can start a bit later... absolutely not.
If they start later, first off, the temperature will be higher and the flowers will bloom; then they’re no good.
Besides, in the height of summer, with temperatures up in the thirties or forties, who would choose to start working only once it’s fully light?
Outside, the young driver had driven a more stable car over and was waiting at the door.
These days he’d been assigned especially to accompany the two kids on their activities; now that the meal was ready, he too had been called in to eat together with the chef—though of course, he was eating the regular food.
Eating and quietly muttering to the chef at the same time, he said, "Look how well-off they are at home, and they still make the kids get up before dawn like this. The way President Yang’s family raises their kids really is something else."
"You’re telling me," the chef, who often chatted with the housekeeping staff and had all the gossip at his fingertips, replied:
What kind of families aren’t there in this whole villa complex?
Some kids are just like our Xiaoyang—winning gold medals, bringing glory to the country—yet in private they’re so down-to-earth and hardworking.
And then there are some kids... honestly, their families don’t teach them a thing; they’re full of every vice you can think of, and there’s nothing they don’t dare to do.
Just look at this: in the dead of night, at this early hour before dawn, not only does the chef have to work, the driver has to get up and run around too.
It’s tough. Tough for everyone!
The driver himself, however, said with a big grin:
"Don’t put it like that. Whatever makes you willing to work the night shift is what makes me willing to come and drive first thing in the morning."
Even though he was getting up really early, most of the time the kids were just playing at home; he was basically just driving back and forth to drop them off and pick them up, with plenty of downtime in between.
On top of that, drivers had a special kind of job; they had to be on call, so they got an extra allowance every month.
Why do wage work?
Wage work is to make money, of course!
His attitude was in a great place.
If he had to say he wasn’t satisfied with anything...
The two of them, gulping down their rice while breathing in the faint aroma drifting in from outside, couldn’t help but dream out loud:
"Tell me, with us working this hard, when do you think we’ll get to eat that tribute rice too?"
It had to be internal supply; otherwise, with Chairman Yang’s clout, how come the whole family only fussed over getting ten or eight jin of it each month?
It had to be that even with money, there was no channel and no qualification to buy it.
If even a driver was saying this, the chef felt even more tormented.
Because not only could he handle ingredients of the same high quality as that rice, he’d personally cooked quite a lot of them.
The problem was, there wasn’t a single one he’d gotten to really taste!
Come on, for someone who’s a chef, who doesn’t love good ingredients? Just look at how some people tend a jar of aged master stock for years and you’ll know.
"Ah," the chef, who was very ambitious, sighed, "if President Yang could get even more successful someday, or if our Xiaoyang, with his grades, becomes some big official or a scientist—if I want to go be a chef then, I wonder if I could even pass the political background check?"
Yang Zhengxi had no idea the family’s chef had such high expectations of him.
It was just that getting up a little after three really went against his biological clock; once he’d eaten all those carbs, the drowsiness immediately washed over him.
He got dressed, put on mosquito repellent, slung his shoulder bag on, and picked up two bottles of mineral water.
