Chapter 419: Brewing Wine with Sorghum

The heavy rain lasted for a whole day, and Wu Lei Ge had just dragged the clean sofa cover out of the washing machine—

Don't ask why he was washing clothes on a rainy day; the answer is that he was too tired from working normally. Having finally encountered rain, Qiao Qiao, Xin Jun, and Zhang Yanping had already arranged the work maniacally—scrubbing, washing, mopping the floor, changing the four-piece bedding set...

In short, he hadn't been idle all morning.

Wu Lei Ge felt very bitter.

"Living in a villa and still having to do housework yourself, what kind of villa is this..."

Coincidentally, Xin Jun passed by clutching a brand-new bed sheet and couldn't help but be puzzled: "But this villa isn't ours; aren't we just staying here for free?"

"Oh," he realized again: "I have a proper package that includes food and housing."

Wu Lei Ge:...

He, he also had a blood relationship with Tan Tan!

And downstairs, Seventh Uncle stood under the corridor watching the drizzling rain, and found a spot in the courtyard: "Just right, rainy days can save some effort; this area will be easy to scrub later."

"Scrub what?" Song Tan looked over curiously.

On a rainy day, except for Grandpa who insisted on going to Grandpa's side early in the morning to study weaving straw mats, everyone else was idle. It was a rare and cozy time to relax.

Song Tan wanted to try if she could dissolve spiritual energy into water, so she had been tinkering for a long time, and turned her head to see Seventh Uncle saying this.

Seventh Uncle glanced at her: "Did you forget the sorghum planted in the two plots of land next to the peach forest?"

"It's already July; I went over last night to see, and it's ripe, but I didn't have time to harvest it because of the rain."

"Ah!"

Song Tan had truly forgotten—after all, sorghum, like corn, wasn't planted in large quantities, and it was Qiao Qiao who had planted it with all his heart.

"If it's ripe and we don't harvest it quickly, will it rot in the rain!"

For example, rice; if it rains during harvest, not only can it not be dried, but it will even sprout again directly on the stalks...

Seventh Uncle shook his head: "Have you heard the saying, 'Sorghum raises its gun, unafraid of water'? This thing isn't afraid of water or drought, don't worry."

"I'm thinking that no one eats sorghum now, so let's just brew it all into wine when we harvest that patch."

Oh my, having worked at Song Tan's house for several months, they only drank a little wine when guests came; life had lost its fun.

"Ah?" Song Tan hesitated: "Coarse grains, don't you want to try them?" It's said they have high nutritional value and a fragrant, sweet taste; she hasn't tried them yet.

Coincidentally, Song Sancheng walked out to smoke a cigarette and was shocked to hear this:

"What?! Eat sorghum? No, no!"

He detested it deeply: "It's bitter and astringent and hard to swallow, and it pricks the throat... Isn't our family's rice good? Why must we eat that?"

Song Tan:??? Is it that hard to eat?

"Then forget it!" She decided decisively: "Let's brew it all into wine!"

Speaking of wine, although Song Sancheng wasn't addicted to it, he drank it occasionally.

He was excited and huddled with Seventh Uncle: "What kind of wine is this? Sauce-flavored or strong-flavored? I'm not used to sauce-flavored."

Seventh Uncle was also happy: "Anyway, there's plenty of sorghum, let's brew it all!"

It was just a bit troublesome.

He asked again: "Are the rice husks from threshing the rice still there?"

"Yes!"

Song Sancheng pointed to the warehouse: "A whole pile."

The rice straw was piled into a haystack behind the mountain, and the rice husks were intended to feed chickens and ducks, so they were all packed in burlap bags.

"That's fine." Seventh Uncle pondered for a moment:

"Tan Tan, then you'll have to buy a large steamer, a distiller, and jars and bottles for the wine."

Otherwise, relying on the large iron pot at home would be too troublesome to steam.

Song Tan quickly took out her phone: "How big should it be?"

Ah, this.

Seventh Uncle hadn't brewed wine for many years.

Now that it was mentioned, although he was confident that his skills hadn't been lost, it was hard to say—

Therefore, he said conservatively: "The steamer doesn't need to be too big, fifty jin is enough. I estimate that your two fen of land can yield two or three hundred jin of sorghum, which should produce about one hundred jin of wine—you should prepare accordingly."

One hundred jin of wine?

Song Tan couldn't help but ponder: "You say, if this is sold, how much should it cost per bottle?"

She didn't know much about the white liquor market yet.

Seventh Uncle was speechless—the sorghum hadn't even been harvested yet!

He had no choice but to hum: "It will take at least a month to know the taste; it's too early for you to worry about the price. You'd better think about what to use the soybeans in the chestnut orchard for."

After harvesting the sorghum, the next one would probably be soybeans.

Speaking of soybeans, Song Tan was truly looking forward to it:

"I'll buy a large bean sprout machine first!"

Stir-fried bean sprouts, vinegar-braised bean sprouts, small crispy pork stewed with bean sprouts!

Bean dregs, soy milk, tofu pudding, water tofu, dried tofu sheets—

Stir-fried soybeans, bean flour, soybeans braised with pig's trotters—

She stared at her phone, her eyes gradually becoming maniacal:

"Do I need to buy a millstone too..."

Seventh Uncle:...

The three bitterest things in life are rowing a boat, blacksmithing, and selling tofu; you really can't think straight.

But...

"Show me a small millstone, the palm-sized kind. I'll grind some seasoning particles; the ready-made ones I buy are either too fine or too coarse, and the grinder at home doesn't do a good enough job."

Song Tan nodded, finally feeling that her half-year of effort hadn't been in vain—not to mention anything else, there were more and more things she could eat at home!

When the large stone mill comes back, tie Wu Lei Ge Ge to the mill and let him turn it a couple of times in his spare time...

*Cough, cough, cough. *

No, he's a relative after all, and Wu Lei Ge Ge's strength is purely a waste of her soybeans.

In short, I have to find something to pull the mill!

She thought about it, and gradually set her sights on the back mountain—

And at this time, Song Sancheng, who had finished smoking a cigarette silently, looked at the vast rain and suddenly asked again:

"Now that this rain has fallen, there's no need to drain the water in the rice fields anymore—Tan Tan, how are the seedlings growing now? Can they be planted? This month we have to harvest sorghum and soybeans, I estimate your peaches are almost ready too, and we still have to plant rice here—I estimate there aren't enough people in our village."

】

Song Tan was stunned: "Weren't there so many people helping to plant peach trees on the mountain in the spring?"

Song Sancheng waved his hand: "In previous years, in July, August, and September, many of them went out to work, and they all had to prepare."

At this time of year, going to electronic factories, toy factories, or shoe factories in the south, if they encounter a lot of overtime, they can earn five or six thousand a month.

But if they are older, it's harder, and the income is less, but they can still earn three or four thousand yuan.

Working until the New Year, not to mention anything else, the rice, flour, grain, oil, and gifts for next year... should be enough, right?

Although it's good to stay in the hometown to work, Song Tan's work here is intermittent and not secure.

Song Tan:...

What about the hundreds of acres of mountains she just contracted!

Keep people, this wave must keep people!

Of course, not only must we keep this group of middle-aged and elderly people, but this year, we must indeed, as Secretary Xiao Zhu said, desperately pull some young people for our hometown! ===== CHAPTER 420 =====