Chapter 289

Just like that, Song Tan watched with her own eyes as Song Youde pinched the tobacco leaves he had stripped, then brought out a cutting board and a kitchen knife to slowly slice them into fine shreds.

The movement was neither rushed nor slow, exceptionally meticulous; the tobacco shreds were sliced extremely fine, barely any different from what one would be desperate to buy on the market.

Song Tan:...

Qiaoqiao came out of his room to pour a glass of water, and at this moment, seeing the pile of golden tobacco shreds before him, he turned his head and let out a fierce "Hmph!"

Song Youde hurriedly gave a fawning smile, then shouted loudly: "Qiaoqiao! Grandpa will weave a straw mat for you in a bit, you'll be able to sleep on it tonight."

Song Tan let out an "Oh?" and said: "Grandpa, if you weave it now, I can have him sleep on it right now!"

Song Youde:...

He gave a sheepish smile, put down the kitchen knife for the moment, looked at the several large bundles of rushes, and then spoke the truth: "The grass hasn't been prepared yet. You go find those few of them first and have them sort this grass by length for me. I don't have much of this tobacco, I'll be done slicing it in a moment."

He intended to smoke it himself, so he really hadn't sliced much.

By now, the large clump of tobacco leaves had been pressed flat, and he was already nearly finished slicing.

Song Tan let out a hum that was neither a smile nor a frown, and only then went to the side to tidy up the grass.

Looking at Song Youde again, he seemed to be meticulously handling his most cherished treasure, bit by bit, strand by strand, until the entire cutting board was covered in golden, finely shredded tobacco leaves, only then did he take out a plastic bag and carefully place all the tobacco shreds inside.

Afterwards, he pulled his tobacco pouch from the small of his back and stuffed the remaining handful of tobacco shreds into the cloth bag hanging below the pipe.

He didn't do anything else, first filling a pinch into the mouthpiece, lighting it with a "snap" of his lighter, and sitting there puffing away, his expression as intoxicated as an immortal.

Song Tan suddenly felt her heart soften.

Tobacco is not a good thing, but for her grandfather, it was the only thing that could comfort and soothe his body and mind after heavy farm work.

What's more, Grandpa is already at such an advanced age...

Fine, anyway, the tobacco has already been planted, so there's no point in stopping him now.

She called Zhang Yanping and Song Sancheng over to help sort the several bundles of rushes by length, and while sorting, she asked: "Does it still need to be dried later?"

"No rush." Seeing the two siblings sorting with nimble hands and feet, Song Sancheng simply took out a knife and sat to the side, splitting the grass in two.

Rushes aren't thin, long strands; rather, they are quite thick and sturdy, and all of this grass needs to be split open.

The process is quite troublesome!

From this, it's clear that what Song Youde said earlier about Qiaoqiao being able to sleep on it tonight was purely to fool his grandson.

By the time all these bundles were finished being prepared, it was already noon.

During this time, Song Youde had finished his smoke and also came over to help.

He split them even more nimbly and skillfully than Song Sancheng, and soon, there was a pile of grass strands on the ground.

Only then did he stop: "Move them to the open space outside to dry. Since we're weaving the straw mat for our own family, there's no need to tie them up; just spread them out to dry, it'll be more thorough."

Song Tan:...

So troublesome?

No wonder they don't weave them anymore; this really is quite labor-intensive.

However, straw mats aren't as icy cold as bamboo mats, and they work just as well in an air-conditioned room. When there's time, she'll have to go get a few more handfuls of grass to weave a few more beds.

That way, in case the old folks are reluctant to turn on the air conditioning, at least sleeping on this will be more refreshing.

Qiaoqiao's class was over, and he came out with Xin Jun, helping to spread these grass strands out evenly to dry, and then, seeing Song Youde, he hurriedly said loudly:

"Grandpa, can I sleep on it tonight?"

Song Youde:...

This child, why is his memory so good?

He pretended to be old and hard of hearing, walking straight up to Grandpa Qi Biao:

"Where is your tobacco pipe?"

Grandpa Qi Biao glanced at him: "I left it at home and haven't brought it back yet."

That was one he had picked out himself on Tremble, and then asked Song Tan to help buy; it looked about as pretty as Song Youde's, except Song Youde's had been used for a long time and was now oily and shiny, which his new model couldn't compare to.

Song Youde, however, opened his cloth bag of tobacco shreds like he was showing off a treasure:

"How about it, is it good?!"

And then he couldn't wait to suggest: "It's still early in the day, why don't you go back and get yours? Let me tell you, my tobacco this year—"

He took a deep breath, stroking his pipe, the poor old farmer suddenly at a loss for words.

He thought for a long time, not knowing how to describe the goodness of this tobacco.

Finally, he concluded: "You'll know once you take a puff. It's really good!"

Grandpa Qi Biao, however, became vigilant:

"The way you put it... I see you've been busy for half a day without smoking; are you feeling itchy inside right now?"

Song Youde was stunned, puzzled: "Not itchy? I usually just like to have a couple of puffs, the addiction isn't heavy."

He then realized: "What do you mean by that? I don't even want to share this good tobacco of mine with you! Forget it if you don't want it."

Grandpa Qi Biao then gave a sheepish laugh.

"The way you describe this kick, it doesn't sound like tobacco..."

"If it doesn't sound like tobacco, what does it sound like!" Song Youde glared at him, the two old men stared at each other, and then each let out a hum.

Song Tan just had to chime in: "Grandpa, the tobacco has been planted for you, this winter we have to go to the hospital for a physical."

Last winter, the old man had back pain, stayed in the hospital for a few days, and thinking that since he was already there and it could be reimbursed, he had an X-ray taken.

It showed a shadow on his lungs.

And even with that, he's still smoking!

Song Youde had a mind to stubbornly refuse, but his tobacco next year still depended on his eldest granddaughter, so he could only hum twice: "I'll go, I'll go."

While muttering: "Let me tell you, if you don't check, there's nothing wrong, but once you check, all sorts of ailments appear. You young people just have money and nowhere to spend it..."

But he didn't dare to resist, turned his head to look at the sky, and brought out another large bundle of tobacco leaves from the room:

"That Secretary Xiao Zhu brought two bottles of such good Maotai last time, we have to return the favor. I'm going to slice two jin of tobacco shreds for their family."

This was rare.

Song Tan was curious: "There are only 200 jin of tobacco leaves in total, aren't you heartbroken?"

Song Youde glanced at her triumphantly: "What's there to be heartbroken about? You silly girl, do you know how long 200 jin of tobacco leaves can last me?"

He picked up his pipe, preparing to use data to speak, but after thinking about it, he only smoked such a small pinch at a time, so there really wasn't any data to speak of.

He simply changed to another example: "If you use these tobacco shreds to roll cigarettes, one jin of tobacco shreds can roll 600 cigarettes. Think about how many cartons that is? Giving two jin of tobacco shreds isn't shabby."

Originally, the tobacco on the two-fen plot was planted casually, without much care, and the yield was just about enough for the family for a year or two.

Who knew that once Tan Tan planted it, good heavens, it directly multiplied several times over, and now the harvest seemed quite abundant.

Song Tan was a bit surprised: "One jin of tobacco shreds can roll 600 cigarettes? Then these 200 jin of tobacco shreds are quite a lot!"

Song Youde became vigilant: "Not a lot."

"Don't these tobacco leaves still need to have their stems stripped off? That's going to lose weight too."

"You and Grandpa Qi Biao both need to smoke, and then giving Xiao Zhu two jin, there's no extra, no extra..."

The old man guarded his treasure very tightly.

Song Tan just said it, but seeing her grandfather even build a special drying room for these few tobacco leaves, she knew how much he treasured them in his heart.

However, the drying room wasn't wasted; now that it had been slightly modified inside, it had become a simple toilet.

After all, they were going to build a house in the summer, and keeping it was of no use, so it was better to let everyone use it for convenience first!