jdhmnovel Chapter 136 136
Chapter 136 136
The seeds fall on the soft soil with a soft rustling sound, like fine salt sprinkled on bread.
Each smear landed in a different spot, none crowded together, none missed. After smearing one furrow, she patted her palms on her knees to shake off the seed husk fragments clinging to her hands, then gently covered them with soil. She pushed the soil back from both sides of the furrow, covering the seeds, and smoothed the surface with her fingertips until it was level with the surrounding soil. After covering with soil, she gently pressed the soil surface three times with her fingers—not too firmly, or the seeds wouldn't be able to emerge; not too loose, or the water wouldn't be able to reach them. The pressure was just right, ensuring the seeds and soil adhered well, like tucking someone in with a blanket.
She moved to the second row and opened the "cucumber" bag. The cucumber seeds were flat and elongated, several times larger than tomato seeds, with a smooth surface that gleamed faintly in the sunlight.
She poured the seeds into her palm, separated them with her fingers, and made sure each one was intact—one seed had a small chip at the tip, which she picked out and set aside, intending to bury it in the flowerbed in the yard to see if it would germinate. The good seeds were held between her fingertips and placed one by one into the furrow.
The cucumber seeds should be spaced wider apart than the tomato seeds. She used her fingers to poke shallow holes at intervals at the bottom of the furrow, placing one seed in each hole. After placing the seeds, she covered them with soil, smoothing the surface with the back of her hand, applying slightly less pressure than before, because cucumber seeds are large, and pressing too heavily on them would actually hinder germination.
The third row was planted with chili peppers. She opened the "chili pepper" bag; the seeds were small, round, and yellowish-white, even finer than tomato seeds, so small that they were almost invisible when scattered into the furrow. She mixed the seeds with a pinch of fine sand, then pinched a handful with her fingers and sprinkled it evenly so that the seeds wouldn't clump together.
The chili seeds were so small that she was extra careful when covering them with soil. She only used her fingertips to sweep a very thin layer of fine soil over them, not daring to press it down, but just gently brushing it over.
The fourth row was for eggplants. Eggplant seeds are somewhere between pepper and tomato seeds in shape, flat and round, dark brown in color, with a slightly rough surface that feels like fine sandpaper. She placed the seeds one by one into the furrow, leaving roughly enough space between them with her fingers. After placing them, she covered them with soil, gently pressing her palm into the surface, leaving a very shallow handprint. She stared at the handprint for a moment, then smoothed it out with the back of her hand.
The fifth row was planted with leafy greens. She mixed the seeds of bok choy and lettuce together—bok choy seeds were small, round, and brownish-brown; lettuce seeds were long and thin, and silvery-gray. She poured the two kinds of seeds into a cloth bag, stirred them in her palm to mix them thoroughly, and then pinched a small handful between her fingers and evenly scattered them along the shallow furrows. Leafy greens don't require much spacing; after scattering them, she covered them with a thin layer of soil.
All five rows were sown and covered with soil. From one end of the field to the other, the rows were smooth and indistinguishable. All the seeds were hidden beneath the soil; without markings, it was impossible to tell which row contained which seed. But they were already in the soil, lying quietly in the darkness, waiting for water, warmth, and light. She sat at the edge of the field, her knees covered in dirt, her fingernails filled with bits of soil, and her fingers still bearing fragments of seed husks.
Beside her lay a small bundle of thin bamboo strips, a writing brush, and a stick of ink. The bamboo strips were scraps of bamboo collected from the bamboo grove, cut into palm-length pieces.