Chapter 415

However... 10,000 stalks?

You're probably weaving a mattress, not a mat.

She asked curiously: "Grandpa, how many stalks did you use for the one you wove for me before?"

"At that time, there wasn't enough grass..." Song Song Youde said nonchalantly while tidying up the dried grass in the courtyard: "I just wove a single layer for your straw mat, and it was quite narrow, so it didn't even use 1,000 stalks."

Song Tan:...

"What about Qiaoqiao's?"

Song Song Youde grew proud: "Wasn't Qiaoqiao's particularly good? Let me tell you, I reckon it used 3,000 stalks! Both sides were woven evenly! It was woven to the exact dimensions of your bed."

"After summer is over, wash it, dry it, and roll it up; it can last for many years! Don't look at the fact that I haven't woven these in a long time; doing it now, what do you call it? Still got it!"

Look at how proud this little old man was!

Song Tan then stiffened her face: "Grandpa, your favoritism is too blatant."

Song Song Youde was also stunned: "Why are you bringing that up again? This child, I told you it was because there wasn't enough grass then. You knew there was such a large meadow, why didn't you tell me sooner? Look, now I have to weave another one for you—otherwise, what should I do? Weave you one with 10,000 stalks?"

"I don't want that."

Song Tan shook her head: "New mattresses nowadays are very ergonomic; when you lie on them, there's no gap under your waist. If you weave one with 10,000 stalks on top, it'll be uneven, wouldn't it break quickly?"

"Forget it! Your granddaughter isn't the type to nitpick; just weave one with 2,000 stalks."

Song Song Youde:...

He finally couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Look at you, being petty; and you say you're not the type to nitpick? Fine, fine, fine, I'll weave you one with 2,000 stalks—but is your mattress really that soft?"

"Sigh, too soft is bad for the waist."

Song Tan laughed: "Grandpa, we like to play on our phones in bed; the bed board is too hard and it hurts."

"Besides, the spring mattresses made nowadays are all good, and they even emphasize spring zoning, where different springs are used for different parts of the body. The head is the head, the waist is the waist, the feet are the feet..."

So, when choosing mattresses this time, the contemporary phone-addicted generation all chose the same model.

Wu Lan and Song Song Sancheng were used to sleeping on hard mattresses, so they bought coir mattresses.

Song Tan liked soft ones, so she added a layer of latex.

Qiaoqiao, Zhang Zhang Yanping, and Xin Jun were afraid of the heat, so they added a thin layer of palm mat on top.

Good heavens, these words left Song Song Youde stunned—

Is sleeping so particular nowadays?

Like him, he still sleeps on a hard bed board.

When Song Song Sancheng got married, he specifically spent money to buy a spring mattress in town—but after a long time, he said some springs were always collapsing...

But this also made Song Song Youde frown.

"If you say mattresses can conform to the body, then it's not just a flat board—then if I weave you a straw mat, I'll have to split the grass even finer."

Song Tan was stunned: "Even finer?"

"Yeah." Song Song Youde picked up the first batch of dried grass he had sun-dried to show her: "Look, does it feel hard in the middle when you touch it like this? It's summer, so weaving it like this gives it resilience and it won't break easily."

"But think about it, when spread on the bed, people toss and turn on it; after a long time, the uneven parts will definitely break easily, so it has to be split finer."

"Like weaving a straw hat, the more you rub the grass leaves to make them soft, the better—that way it'll be both soft and comfortable."

It's just labor-intensive.

Song Tan quickly comforted him: "If it's labor-intensive, then it's labor-intensive. I'll help you sell it for a higher price; it's worth it."

Song Song Youde didn't have much of a concept of "selling it for a higher price," calculating that since the grass was already split, he would have to find a few more people to split it again, and he'd also need people to rub the grass—

That meant tying these long rush stalks into bundles and rubbing them slowly on a stone slab or concrete floor, and he'd also have to pick out the ones with uneven colors, otherwise, the woven result would look mottled and ugly...

But this workload

Was huge.

With the rush grass on these two mu of land, he'd probably be weaving until winter, right?

"That's no rush; when winter comes, we'll just sell it the second year."

Song Tan quickly soothed her grandfather's heart.

Song Song Youde frowned: "It has to be fast, otherwise it'll be dry in winter, and the grass will become brittle and break easily; you have to spray it with water constantly before weaving."

Song Tan:... Is it that complicated?

"Why don't we weave bamboo mats instead."

In her impression, when she saw people in her family weaving bamboo mats and baskets when she was a child, they just had to split the bamboo into strips or filaments; there weren't that many requirements.

"What are you thinking!"

Song Song Youde didn't hold back in criticizing her: "Straw mats are so flexible, and I'm still worried they won't be sturdy enough on your mattresses. Bamboo mats are even more brittle... think about it, what if a heavy person sleeps on it, and after a long time it suddenly breaks, and when they reach out to wipe it, a bamboo splinter stabs their hand—"

"Hiss!"

Just thinking about it made Song Tan frown:

"Fine."

She looked into the distance at the large bamboo forest by the road and had to sigh: "It seems they have no use other than growing bamboo shoots."

"Who says?"

Song Song Youde didn't like hearing that:

"Don't you use them for the cucumber trellises in your vegetable garden?"

"Besides, if we can't weave mats, can't we weave baskets? We'll talk about it when I have some free time."

However, Song Song Youde clearly still had worries on his mind—

"If straw mats are woven this meticulously, there's no way to weave one in a day. If we keep dragging it out like this, I'm afraid summer will be over before we can gather many."

Thinking about how much money was spent hiring people to cut the grass, Song Song Youde felt some regret in his heart.

"What are you afraid of?"

Song Tan was open-minded: "If it's too late this year, we'll definitely catch up next year. Grandpa, weave it meticulously; many people nowadays love such meticulous handmade work and will buy it!"

With the grass piled on the ground, Song Song Youde just sighed, but hearing Song Tan's confidence, he couldn't help but laugh...

The grandfather and granddaughter were chatting when they heard the sound of a three-wheeler puttering outside.

Zhang Zhang Wangjia came down the mountain under the scorching sun and asked Song Tan anxiously upon seeing her:

"Tan Tan, I saw the weather forecast saying there will be heavy rain for several days starting tomorrow. The watermelons in the field can't handle the rain! Let's pick them all this afternoon!"

【Stable and running for many years, comparable to the old version of the book-chasing artifact, used by all old bookworms, huann.】

Theoretically, watermelons in the growth stage aren't afraid of this kind of rain, but the problem was that many of the large watermelons in their field were on the verge of ripening.

If the air pressure dropped and the rain hit them now, they would burst and crack in the field before anyone could pick them—at 20 yuan a jin, who could afford that?

Song Tan:...!

She had almost forgotten about this, even though she had been watching the forecast for several days!

"Okay, then Uncle Zhang, I'll tell my family, and we'll all go up the mountain to help pick watermelons!"

"Good."

Zhang Zhang Wangjia got back on his three-wheeler: "The second batch of early melons hasn't arrived yet, so no rush. The main thing is the large watermelons that are ripening right now."

Because they were so big, they hadn't planted many, but altogether there were still several mu, which was hard labor.

Song Tan thought for a moment and simply called the vegetable peddler: "Old Zhao, do you want watermelons?"

Song of Thorns