The golden age began in 1977

Chapter 272 Ready to Use, Effective Upon Use

The next day, before dawn, Qian Lie wrapped himself in a military green cotton coat and rode his bicycle to the suburbs early in the morning.

The goal is to build the first mechanized chicken farm in Hongxing.

It won't be easy for him to find this chicken farm without a map.

Fortunately, the meat-making team of the labor commando team had to go to the state-owned pig farm every morning to get pig heads and offal.

The chicken farm and the pig farm were not far apart, and with a friend showing him the way, Qian Lie easily found his workplace.

It was a vast frozen land enclosed by barbed wire.

The cold wind whistled, swirling up the fine snow on the ground, which stung people's faces.

Qian Lie hunched his shoulders, his old, worn-out military cotton-padded coat, which was pilling, bulkily covering his thin and tall body.

Even with the trouser legs tied tightly with hemp rope, it still couldn't stop the cold wind from seeping in.

He trudged along the frozen, white dirt road, his steps uneven, toward the barbed wire gate.

On the newly painted white wooden sign at the entrance, the words "Hongxing First Mechanized Chicken Farm, Haibin City" are written in black.

He was clutching a satchel tightly in his arms, which was filled with heavy books.

The various books on scientific breeding were partly collected by him in southern Yunnan, and partly given to him intermittently by Qian Jin after he returned to the city.

Among them, the books that Qian Jin gave him were the most important; each one was a comprehensive collection of veterinary medicine knowledge!
The old gatekeeper at the chicken farm opened the door and looked at him suspiciously. Qian Lie showed him the letter of recommendation. The old man muttered, "Another one who got in through connections," and then impatiently waved him into the farm area.

Qian Lie blushed.

But he had no answer. Theoretically, it was indeed the four brothers who used connections to get him in.

The old man pushed open the creaking old wooden door of the farm office, and a wave of heat, mixed with the strong smell of chicken manure, cheap disinfectant, and choking coal smoke, rushed out.

A middle-aged man in an old military uniform, with a broad face and thick eyebrows, was slamming his fist on the table in frustration, making a loud clattering sound as he shook the enamel mug on it.

“…Useless! All of you are useless!”

"They used imported penicillin and streptomycin obtained through foreign exchange as water? And they mixed sulfonamides into the animal feed?!"

"Forty-one died yesterday! And fifty-three have already been reported by this time today! Zhao Degui, have you fed all thirty years of your veterinary experience to chickens?!"

His roar echoed in the shabby office, carrying the ruthless aura unique to veteran soldiers.

Upon seeing this scene, the old man quickly pulled Qian Lie away.

When the man in the old uniform saw them, he said impatiently, "Come in! What are you doing? Can't you see we're in a meeting?"

The old man chuckled and said, "Director Wei, it's like this, a comrade came to report for duty with that letter of recommendation."

"Who sent me this huge Buddha statue again?" The old soldier was about to slam his fist on the table when he suddenly paused, "Uh, it was my old sergeant who sent it?"

The old man nodded hurriedly: "It's Chief Yang's autograph."

Wei Desheng sighed and muttered, "The old squad leader really knows how to find time to send people away. I'm too busy to handle this now."

"Alright, let him in."

In this almost frozen, tense atmosphere, Qian Lie walked in somewhat awkwardly, his military cotton shoes still covered in mud.

He took off his equally worn-out dog-skin hat, revealing his ears, red from the cold, and a face sculpted by the wind and snow.

Wei Desheng ignored him and continued to lash out at the several people who had their heads down and faces drooping.

These people were all dressed in doctor-like uniforms, but instead of white, they were blue.

The leader was a gaunt old man wearing thick, bottle-bottom glasses. Qian Lie learned from Wei Desheng that this man was Zhao Degui, the factory's veterinarian and epidemic prevention supervisor.

The old supervisor now has a hunched back, a worried expression, and looks like he's in a real pain.

He wanted to say something, but his lips moved a few times before he swallowed it back, and he just kept pushing up his glasses that were about to slip down to the tip of his nose.

After Wei Desheng finished his tirade, he sat down and drank tea.

Only then did he remember that a new recruit had joined his team, and he looked over with a gloomy face: "What's your name?"

Qian Lie quickly and solemnly presented the letter of recommendation: "Hello, Director Wei, hello, Veterinarian Zhao. My name is Qian Lie, a returned educated youth. This is my letter of recommendation."

Still furious, Wei Desheng rudely grabbed the thick letter.

His gaze swept over Yang Dagang's familiar handwriting and the bright, heavy seal at the end of the signature, then he looked Qian Lie up and down, scrutinizing the marks left on his body from his rough work. The intense anger in his eyes faltered slightly, but his tone remained as stern as the north wind:
"Hmm? A sent-down youth returning to the city? You used to be a veterinarian? Have you ever taken care of chickens and ducks?"

"Reporting to the farm manager, I used to work at the commune's veterinary station, mainly responsible for the diagnosis and treatment of diseases in large livestock such as donkeys, horses, and cattle. However, I have also treated the chickens and ducks raised by the various teams when they got sick." Qian Lie's voice was not loud and somewhat wooden.

"Hmph, a livestock veterinarian?" Zhao Degui glared at Qian Lie from the top of his glasses.

He was very honest with Wei Desheng, but he put on airs when facing these newbies.

With the arrogance typical of a veteran and absolute contempt for outsiders, he said, "How big is a horse? How big is a chicken? Can the dosage be the same?"

"Especially since our factory is currently raising a batch of foreign White Locker chickens that we imported at a high price, they are like precision instruments in the factory!"

"What good are your big iron barrels for feeding cattle and your black medicine for boiling horses here? You'd better go somewhere cool and stay somewhere else and stop causing us trouble!"

As he spoke, he impatiently waved his hand, as if shooing away flies.

Qian Lie's face flushed, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he didn't argue anymore, but subconsciously tightened his grip on the handbag in his arms.

Seeing Zhao Degui's cowardly and bullying behavior, Wei Desheng's thick, dark eyebrows furrowed tightly again, like two twisted iron chains:
"What are you so arrogant about? His methods didn't work, but yours will? You wanted those advanced antibiotics from those foreign devils, and I pulled so many strings to get them for you. And what was the result? Did you even solve my problem?!"

Zhao Degui habitually hunches his neck.

Wei Desheng had lost all interest in cursing at this point.

He glanced at the report on the rampant chicken plague, then at the letter of introduction on the table bearing the weight of personal favors and an official seal, and waved his hand impatiently: "Alright, Lao Zhao, stop standing around here, hurry up and go to shed number one, think of a solution!"

"Qian...Qian Lie, right? Since Old Yang gave the order, we can't refuse. Go and help Old Zhao out first, and learn a thing or two."

"Remember, you have to handle this chicken feather with the utmost care! This batch of White Lockheed Martins is our prized possession. If even one dies, you'll lose a month's wages!"

His final warning carried the chilling weight of a battlefield command.

Qian Lie nodded silently, said nothing more, and followed the sullen Zhao Degui into the chilly chicken coop area, carrying his satchel.

Rows of simple chicken coops covered with tarpaulins looked like crouching black monsters, and a faint, mournful croaking came from the direction of chicken coop number one.

Pushing aside the thick, greasy cotton curtain of the No. 1 chicken coop, a strong, foul stench, carrying the scent of death, rushed out and hit me right in the head.

Under the dim light were rows of wire cage compartments.

The imported broiler chickens that should have been white and glossy were now all huddled in a corner.

Their feathers were disheveled like tattered cotton, their combs were dull and purplish, their eyes were half-closed, and thick, yellowish-white droppings were pasted on the bottom of the cage and on the tail feathers of the sick chickens.

In the passageway of the chicken coop, a few dead chickens were haphazardly piled in broken baskets.

Zhao Degui returned to his territory and began to lash out, jumping up and down and pointing at two worried-looking laborers as he started cursing:
"Xiao Zhang, are you blind?! What are those bastards still doing in there? Damn it, drag them out right now, before they catch anything!"

"Xiao Wang, what are you standing there for? Add the potassium permanganate solution to the maximum concentration! Hurry up and give him the medicine! What? He can't swallow it? Damn it, can't you just force-feed it through a tube? Hurry up and save the chickens, save as many as you can!"

Qian Lie remained silent.

But Zhao Degui didn't let him off the hook. He turned back and glared at him, asking, "What have you studied? Can you treat chickens? Can you tell what's wrong with this one?"

Qian Lie silently opened his satchel to show the books inside.

At the top is a yellowed and curled copy of "The Barefoot Doctor's Handbook (Rural Edition)," below which is a thick, hardcover copy of "Traditional Chinese Veterinary Medicine," and a mimeographed copy of "A Compilation of Traditional Chinese Medicine Treatments for Common Poultry Diseases," which has been read so many times it is almost falling apart.

At the bottom are several books with calendar paper covers, so you can't see the titles, but they are all thick booklets.

Qian Lie opened a book titled "A Collection of Effective Prescriptions for Poultry Diseases".

Zhao Degui chuckled upon seeing this: "Ha, good heavens, a scholar has come to my chicken coop?"

"Come, come, everyone, look! Is this scholar preparing to go to the capital for the imperial examination? Haha, why did you bring so many books?"

He glanced at the book title and sneered, "It's all about traditional Chinese veterinary medicine? Hey, you're so young but you're more like an old fogey than me. Do you think this stuff is any good?"

"Let me tell you, young man, antibiotics are essential for raising chickens!"

Qian Lie lowered his head and said, "Master Zhao is right. Western veterinary medicine is very advanced, but it can be ineffective. Sometimes we can get lost and look back at the dirt roads our ancestors walked on. There might be life-saving seeds hidden in their footprints."

"What nonsense!" Zhao Degui waved his hand dismissively. "Is this all you've ever watched?"

"Haven't you studied veterinary medicine abroad?"

Qian Lie said, "I have studied it, and I have studied it even more, but that requires the use of instruments and medicines. The conditions here are poor now, so I have found that the knowledge of traditional Chinese veterinary medicine left by our ancestors is more useful."

Zhao Degui sneered: "Hmm, it works. If it works, then show me what's wrong with these chickens?"

"Come on, let's ask our ancestors to bring them back to life, okay?"

Qian Lie pretended not to notice the sarcasm in his words.

He squatted down to look at the dead and dying chickens, examined their conditions to get a general idea of ​​what was going on, and then quickly walked to a corner where there was a thick layer of runny droppings from the sick chickens.

Ignoring the pungent stench emanating from the ground, Qian Lie squatted down, picked up a dry twig, and carefully examined the state and smell of the filth.

Then, he walked to the water trough, picked up the greenish, sticky sediment at the bottom of the trough, and sniffed it.

Finally, he got up and looked around the chicken coop, where the air was stuffy and the roof was hanging low.

After thinking for a long time, he began to rummage through his bag, quickly opening the thick book "A Collection of Prescriptions for Poultry Diseases," comparing the illustrations and densely packed descriptions of symptoms.

Ultimately, his gaze lingered on the description of "damp-heat trapping the spleen, qi stagnation and blood stasis, and weakness of the lower body."

So he went back to check on the sick chickens and went to look through the "Compilation of Traditional Chinese Medicine Treatments for Common Poultry Diseases".

This book lists various herbal formulas for treating dysentery caused by heat or diarrhea caused by cold.

After carefully reading through the contents, an idea gradually took shape in his mind.

With the courage and ruthlessness ingrained in him from his years in southern Yunnan, Qian Lie strode up to Zhao Degui and asked, "Master Zhao, what do you think is going on?"

Zhao Degui was sighing over the few chickens that had just died. He knew that if the situation was reported, he would be scolded again.

Being scolded is a small matter; the real responsibility is killing the chicks that the country bought at great expense!
Hearing Qian Lie's words, he was very annoyed: "Am I asking you or are you asking me? What's wrong? You've been putting on airs for a while, and now you realize you have nothing to say?"

Qian Lie's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a sense of reckless courage and a subtle confidence:
"Master Zhao, you don't think this is chicken plague, do you?"

Xiao Wang blurted out instinctively, "What else could it be but chicken plague?"

Qian Lie shook his head: "Comrades, I don't think this is a simple case of chicken plague. It seems more like the patient ate something damp and toxic, then was trapped in this stuffy environment, and the evil qi of the late spring cold came in, attacking from both inside and outside, which trapped the spleen and stomach to death."

"This is the same principle as the dysentery that calves suffered from when I was in the countryside in early spring when the snow melted. It's all due to damp heat."

"I believe this is caused by a sudden onset of heat and cold attacking the internal organs. The book calls it 'cold-damp dysentery,' and it is curable!"

"What?!" Zhao Degui turned around abruptly, like an old cat whose tail had been stepped on, his small eyes behind his glasses almost spitting fire.

"Did you eat something that's damp and toxic? What kind of spleen and stomach problems are you having? What else? What cold foods? Do you eat eggs as a cold food?"

Qian Lie ignored the sarcasm in his words and repeated his judgment.

Zhao Degui asked, "You little rascal, you really dare to talk back. I'm asking you, where did you get these conclusions from?"

Qian Lie honestly replied, "I learned it from a book."

Zhao Degui immediately interrupted him: "Books? What books?!"

"I've been a veterinarian for thirty-two years, and I'm not even as good as your lousy book?! Cold-dampness dysentery? Do chickens have spleens? Do chickens have internal organs? You, a educated youth who's never raised chickens for more than three days, are lecturing me?!"

His spittle almost landed on Qian Lie's face.

Qian Lie subconsciously took a half step back, his face turning even redder, but his gaze remained stubborn.

Of the four siblings in the Qian family, he was the most stubborn.

Zhao Degui continued to berate him: "What's wrong? You're not convinced? Let me tell you, this is the new China, the new society. We're not going to stick to those old-fashioned traditional Chinese medicine and yin-yang deficiency theories anymore."

"Traditional Chinese medicine is all fake. You young man are more feudal in your thinking than an old man like me in this regard."

"Let me tell you, all these meridians and pulse patterns are just vague and unreliable. Can you take a chicken's pulse? Huh? Can you perform the four diagnostic methods of a chicken: smelling, observing, and palpating?"

"Let me tell you, hospitals are using Western medicine, and you, a young man, are trying to teach me traditional Chinese medicine..."

Qian Lie couldn't help but say, "Master Zhao, that's prejudice."

"There is no distinction between traditional Chinese medicine and Western medicine, only between empirical medicine and modern clinical medicine. Western modern medicine is certainly very powerful, but I actually read more medical books on modern medicine."

"However, this does not mean that traditional Chinese medicine, Tibetan medicine, Miao medicine, and Mongolian medicine are completely unacceptable. They are not fake; it's just that the productivity they represent is not as advanced as modern medicine."

"As I just said, if we have a laboratory, microscopes, petri dishes, and even X-ray machines and other equipment that can be used in conjunction with modern medicine, I would definitely be willing to use modern medicine to solve the problem."

"But we don't have that advantage, so we need to make good use of this situation..."

"Give me a break," Zhao Degui said impatiently. "You should be thinking about how to explain yourself when you get scolded."

"Let him speak!" Just then, Wei Desheng's burly figure suddenly lifted the curtain and rushed in.

Like Yang Dagang, he was a retired military officer with a strong sense of responsibility.

The daily death toll in Dormitory No. 1 is approaching one hundred.

How could Wei Desheng possibly sit still in his office?
After reviewing several urgent documents, he rushed over to check the details and happened to overhear Qian Lie's words outside.

Then, Qian Lie explained his diagnosis and treatment to Wei Desheng.

Wei Desheng asked bluntly, "What is cold-damp dysentery?" His voice was like the north wind whipping up iron sand, making people very uncomfortable: "Stop giving me this bookish nonsense. I'm a rough man and don't understand this. Speak plainly, what's the solution?!"

"There's no time for that now, the people's chickens are all dying!"

Qian Lie met Wei Desheng's almost murderous gaze and was about to explain.

Wei Desheng wouldn't listen at all: "I need a solution! Do you have a solution? I'll pay any price!"

"If you can resolve this crisis, I'll recommend you for a reward! If you can't, then get out of here and cool off somewhere else!"

Qian Lie remained calm: "It doesn't cost any money. Although the things I need are scarce this season, I can still find them."

"I need purslane, plantain, and then get me some dried ginger."

"Purslane clears toxins and reduces internal heat, plantain promotes urination and stops diarrhea, and old ginger warms the middle burner, stops diarrhea, and dispels cold!"

"As long as you boil them in the right proportions into a large pot of medicinal soup, mix it into the chicken's drinking water, and give it to the chicken twice a day, you can save their lives."

"Then open the windows appropriately for ventilation—chickens have a high body temperature and their feathers have a strong ability to retain warmth, so as long as you don't suddenly bring in too much cold air, they'll be fine if they get a little cold wind."

"When you open the windows to ventilate, burn a few bundles of aged dried mugwort leaves in the chicken coop. This stuff is the best for dispelling dampness and evil spirits."

"We need to smoke the chicken coop to fumigate it—but we still need to be careful, chickens have very sensitive respiratory systems, so we have to be careful with the heat when burning the aged mugwort leaves, so as not to choke them..."

As he spoke rapidly, he handed the open book to Wei Desheng, pointing to the herbal illustrations and clear text descriptions drawn in ink.

"Plantain? Purslane? Isn't this...isn't this pig feed?" Zhao Degui was so angry that his beard trembled and his voice changed.

"And you even lit mugwort in his mother's chicken coop? Why don't you come and perform a shamanic ritual..."

"Old Zhao, shut up!" Wei Desheng shouted suddenly, startling the sick chickens in the coop, who flapped their wings twice.

He stared intently at Qian Lie with bloodshot eyes and asked, "Can you guarantee it..."

“I’m not afraid to take responsibility, but as I just said, traditional Chinese medicine is based on experience, and this is even more true for traditional Chinese veterinary medicine.” Qian Lie interrupted him nonchalantly.

"However, manager, I'm 80% confident that these methods will work."

He stared directly at Wei Desheng.

Wei Desheng was so intimidated by his gaze that he couldn't help but look away: "I'll try anything, even if it's a dead end!"

"Kid, I'll trust you this time, all for Old Yang's sake. If this method doesn't work..."

He sighed deeply.

Exhaustion finally showed on his face.

The country went through great lengths and spent foreign exchange to buy foreign chicken seedlings, and used them to build new breeding farms for them.

What a great expectation this is.

The greater the expectations, the greater the pressure.

If this chicken farm cannot complete the breeding work, then Wei Desheng has suffered a defeat and brought shame and disgrace to the country and the army!

Thinking of this, he gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his neck: "Are you still standing here waiting for dinner?!"

"Xiao Zhang, Xiao Wang, grab your weapons, call all the epidemic prevention workers, and get to the wasteland by the ditch to dig up purslane and plantain!"

"Give me the warehouse key, and bring out all the dried ginger you have!"

"Old Zhao, go find me some mugwort!"

"Go to the logistics department and see if they have any old stock. If not, look for it at the relevant departments. Mugwort isn't rare; we're sure to find some!"

"In an hour, I'll start a fire in the open space outside! I'll set up a big pot to brew medicine. If anyone messes up for me then, I'll deal with them!"

Once this order, carrying the flavor of a desperate, life-or-death situation, was issued, the entire chicken farm instantly erupted into chaos, operating at breakneck speed, just like a military camp in an uproar.

Xiao Zhang and Xiao Wang were still a little dazed, but Director Wei's murderous expression made them dare not be negligent in the slightest.

Qian Lie took the lead and rushed into the biting cold wind of minus five or six degrees Celsius, leading the two towards the desolate ditch on the north side of the site, which was filled with garbage and overgrown with withered reeds.

With keen eyesight and nimble hands, he shoveled away the snow and withered leaves, precisely picking out the purslane that, though frozen black and wilted, still revealed its thick, juicy outline, as well as the plantain with its broad leaves edged with frost.

His fingers quickly became numb from the cold, but he didn't care and just kept pulling, digging, and tugging.

Half an hour later, a large iron pot was set up in the open space in the center of the field.

The low-quality bituminous coal shoveled from the boiler room, mixed with wood chips, ignited into a raging fire.

Bundles of purslane, still covered in ice and mud, were simply washed, weighed, and thrown into a pot.

Plantain should be treated in the same way.

The chef reluctantly smashed large, rough pieces of dried ginger into small pieces with the back of a cleaver and threw them in.

A pungent, spicy, and bitter aroma, mixed with a strange, grassy smell, rose into the dim sky with the rising steam.

The pungent yet refreshing herbal soup was mixed with water and carried into the No. 1 chicken coop.

Qian Lie deftly poured the brown medicinal liquid into the sink.

On the other side, as the window was opened, cool yet refreshing air rushed in.

At this time, small piles of semi-dried mugwort were lit in several corners.

A bluish-white wisp of smoke, carrying a strong medicinal smell, rose and spread through the chicken coop, which was filled with the aura of death. It was like crude incense offered before a god or Buddha, pungently driving away the filth that clung to it.

That night, the lights in Chicken Coop No. 1 were on all night long.

Wei Desheng did not return to his relatively warm office at the farm headquarters.

That evening, wrapped in an old military overcoat, he sat cross-legged on a straw mat sheltered from the wind at the entrance of the chicken coop, his eyes fixed on the chicken coop under the dim yellow light.

Zhao Degui also leaned against the cold brick wall, his old eyes behind his glasses were bloodshot, he forced himself to stay awake, but he no longer mocked Qian Lie.

I just don't have the energy.

He was also nervous at that moment.

Qian Lie practically lived in the chicken coop.

He would go in and inspect the chickens every half hour, carefully scanning each sick chicken with the beam of his flashlight, probing the temperature of their combs through the wire mesh of the cage with his fingers, then prying open their eyelids to check the condition of their irises, and recording each one in a register.

In the latter half of the night, people couldn't stay awake any longer and started snoring.

Xiao Zhang huddled in the corner, shivering from the cold, and muttered, "Comrade Qian Lie, take a rest. These chickens will kick if they're going to die, you don't need to keep an eye on them..."

Qian Lie ignored him and once again crawled into the stinking chicken coop.

Time passed incredibly slowly, like solidified ice.

The only sounds in the chicken coop were the occasional weak gurgling of the sick chickens and the soft crackling of the stove fire.

midnight.

Late at night.

The east began to lighten with the first hint of dawn.

Qian Lie didn't sleep all night. When he came back, he saw Wei Desheng staring at him with bloodshot eyes.

Wei Desheng also didn't sleep all night.

Qian Lie nodded to him: "Director, you can go to sleep now, there's no problem."

Wei Desheng stayed up all night, and his brain was actually a little foggy.

He didn't sleep, but it was because the pressure was too much. In fact, his energy level is not as high as when he was young and in the army. Now he can only force himself to stay up all night, and his brain is as sluggish and rusty as a machine.

So when he heard Qian Lie's words, he was momentarily stunned and asked, "What do you mean no problem?"

Qian Lie said, "I have been keeping an eye on those sick chickens. Yesterday, including the first half of the night, a total of 42 chickens were picked out. Of them, 15 died and the other 27 were fine."

"Then, according to my statistics, starting from 11:00 AM, no more sick chickens appeared..."

Wei Desheng suddenly stood up.

He stared at Qian Lie as if he were a madman.

If this is true, then why do you still have this indifferent expression? Shouldn't we be cheering and celebrating?

So he kicked Zhao Degui and the others next to him: "Get up, go in and see what's going on."

Xiao Zhang went in rubbing his face, and soon he stumbled out, his face beaming with joy: "Who slapped me?"

Wei Desheng raised his hand and slapped her.

Xiao Zhang was startled when he saw his farm manager's large hand covered in thick, yellow calluses. He quickly shouted, "I'm awake now, completely awake!"

"Manager, they're alive! They're all alive!"

“Those sick chickens didn’t die last night. Some of them can move again, some—well, their eyes are open, some have their claws retracted, and a few are even standing up to reach for water!”

"What?!" Zhao Degui jumped up from the ground with a start, not even noticing his military overcoat fall to the ground.

Xiao Wang, as if he had springs under his buttocks, suddenly darted into the chicken coop.

Wei Desheng followed closely behind.

Under the dim light of the chicken coop, the deathly and heavy scene seemed to undergo a subtle and invigorating change.

The sick chickens, which had been completely paralyzed and on the verge of death in the corner, were now managing to stand up.

Most of the sick chickens opened their cloudy, half-closed eyes a little, and they even seemed to have a luster under the light.

Although their necks were still drooping limply, they would occasionally let out a faint "clucking" sound.

The birds closest to the water trough struggled to stick their heads out and stretch their necks to peck at the murky medicinal soup.

His movements were still weak, but everyone could feel the pulse of life, which was completely different from the cold, lifeless death they had experienced before.

"I... hey!" Zhao Degui was speechless for a moment.

He stumbled and nearly fell onto the wire cage. His wrinkled old face trembled violently, his mouth opened and closed, and a white mist quickly rose from his glasses.

Wei Desheng carefully touched a chicken drinking water, but the chicken shook its feathers and swerved to avoid his hand.

I feel more energetic now!
"It's done! Damn it! It really worked!"

Wei Desheng wiped his face hard, his thick eyebrows twitching. He excitedly spun around twice, then slapped Qian Lie hard on the thin shoulder, the force making Qian Lie stagger.
"Kid, you're pretty good! You've got some skills. My old sergeant really cares about me, sending me a sharpshooter!"

"Amazing! Absolutely amazing!" Xiao Zhang took the statistics sheet to check the details, and finally his face was full of smiles.

No need to get criticized!
Medical interventions will continue to be implemented.

Qian Lie stayed at the venue as soon as he entered.

After three days and three nights, the mortality rate in the No. 1 chicken coop miraculously returned to zero!
The condition of the sick chickens has visibly improved!
The imported antibiotics that Zhao Degui had previously treasured were now discarded like trash.

A wave of rushing to harvest purslane and dried mugwort swept through the area.

Qian Lie quickly collected all the antibiotics: "This time it's just a case of the wrong medicine. Master Zhao is right, these antibiotics are the real good stuff."

"Antibiotics are indispensable for raising chickens. Not a single dose can be wasted. If they get infected with some bacteria in the future, we'll still have to rely on antibiotics to save their lives!"

This time, no one doubted his words.

As the first novice in the chicken farm, he suddenly became a celebrity on the farm, a "chicken-saving hero" with a mysterious aura.

The young employees quickly accepted him, and they began to frequently contact Qian Lie and befriend him.

His books on traditional Chinese veterinary medicine were treasured and eagerly passed around among workers and epidemic prevention personnel.

Zhao Degui was embarrassed, but he was stubborn and convinced. When he met Qian Lie, he snorted and stopped making things difficult for him.

When Wei Desheng saw him, he greeted him with a smile. Every time he ran into Qian Lie in the canteen, he would pour him a glass of wine that his comrade had given him.

"You're something else, kid! You've earned merit right after enlisting. You're our Ning Xiangxun from Red Star Field!"

Ning Xiangxun was a role model for the people in the 1950s and 60s, and a war god in the War to Resist US Aggression and Aid Korea.

Just as Wei Desheng said, he made meritorious contributions as soon as he joined the army and participated in the war.

At that time, his company was under fierce attack from the enemy, and they quickly ran out of bullets, putting their position in imminent danger.

Ning Xiangxun noticed kerosene barrels on the position, so he filled them with stones, then added explosives, and then more stones to make explosive barrels.

During combat, he would roll barrels of explosives toward the enemy, detonating them in large numbers.

Seeing the immense power of the weapon, the enemy dared not attack again, and the position was held. Ning Xiangxun was awarded a third-class merit for this.

For Hongxingchang, Wei Desheng could also award Qian Lie a third-class merit.

If Qian Lie hadn't discovered the core problem and provided timely treatment, all those foreign chickens that the country had carefully imported would have died!

The state may not shut down the Red Star Farm, but it will inevitably face severe criticism, especially for the farm director, Wei Desheng, who will likely have to make a self-criticism at a major meeting.

This is an insult that a retired veteran can never accept.

Therefore, Wei Desheng genuinely had a good impression of Qian Lie, and as a result, Qian Lie was able to establish himself firmly in the Hongxingchang.

(End of this chapter)