Twenty years of cold chain

"A team of experts from the city is coming to our village to assist with a cold storage project. Please send a representative from each household to a meeting at the village office!"

"A team of experts from the city is coming to our village to assist with a cold storage project. Please send a representative from each household to a meeting at the village office!"

The village loudspeaker kept broadcasting the message.

After shouting for more than half an hour and then another hour, only a few people stood outside the village office with their sleeves tucked in and watched for a while. Seeing the sparse crowd, they didn't wait any longer and went about their own business.

On the contrary, in other parts of the village, small meetings were held under lush trees and beside empty stages.

"Mr. Weng, isn't a cold storage room just an underground cellar? Why can't it be built there?"

Weng Huzi sat on a wooden chair under a big tree, with a wooden frame in front of him. A groove was carved out to support his long opium pipe, which was more than two feet long. He first lowered his head and slowly took a puff, then looked as if he had seen through the secret.

"You only watch two episodes of 'The Grand Mansion Gate' on TV a day, and you have to turn it off when 'GG' comes on. You don't turn on the lights unless it's completely dark. What kind of calculation are you making? You're just trying to save on electricity! But do you know how much electricity a cold storage facility consumes? One run of that huge machine is equivalent to watching TV for a month straight. This isn't a cellar; it's like having a money-burning ancestor!"

These words sent gasps of shock through the crowd. Then, the old man with the mustache started banging his pipe again, "What's a subsidy? A subsidy means you spend the bulk of it first, and then they'll fill in the gaps later. To build this cold storage facility, you first use up your savings, then wait for it to burn through your coffers. Think about it carefully!"

After saying this, the old man leaned back, covered his face with his straw hat, and ignored everyone.

Liang Dafeng started a small kitchen on the other side of the village.

An older man asked, "Dafeng, so what's the village committee's opinion on the cold storage issue?"

"Fourth Uncle, isn't it obvious? This so-called expert group has been here for over half a month. If the village committee really had this intention, they would have gathered everyone together long ago. If they keep dragging this out, the smart ones will have already moved on!"

"Discuss? No matter how much we discuss it, in the end we'll still be getting money from you. Why didn't this happen a few years ago? Because everyone knows we didn't have any spare money back then. Why didn't we mention subsidies then? How can we give you subsidies if we don't have the money! I looked into this at the village office first. If we don't work together, we won't give those guys a chance to stir up trouble! And the oranges are about to be harvested. We can't afford to delay this!"

People nodded repeatedly, praising Liang Dafeng for his practical work and saying that having such a pillar of support gave them peace of mind.

"Fourth Uncle, I see you're quite interested in this. How about I take some money from your pocket and build one for everyone to see?"

"Go away! I won't do it!"

The fourth uncle instinctively covered and patted his pocket, but instead of money, he had three eggs in it. With a forceful pat, the yolks and whites spilled all over his hand, eliciting a burst of laughter.

People's will is the hardest thing to go against. The matter was now completely at a standstill. The old and decrepit village chief seemed powerless. He couldn't possibly go door-to-door to ask for help. Everyone could see the situation clearly; even if he went, one of them would be deaf or lame.

Before we knew it, it was almost December, and the oranges from Lianghu Village were in season.

Every time a truck arrives, a few familiar faces are always chatting happily with the truck buyers. When they can't agree on a price, these people are very helpful in getting things done. They just offer cigarettes and exchange a few jokes.

At the same time, Hu Shutong also saw many surprising things in the transactions. Slightly smaller ones, or ones with a few blemishes on their skin, were rejected without hesitation. In the end, only the large, round, and plump goods were put on the truck.

Oranges may look firm, but their peels wilt easily. Unlike many citrus fruits, which have soft peels and don't show much difference when left at room temperature for a while, oranges are easily visibly stale once they lose moisture from their peels.

So the remaining fruit farmers put their carts on the road and sold whatever they could find in the townships and counties. They didn't feel bad about the wilted or spoiled fruit, since they had already picked out the leftovers, and they still made a lot of money.

As time went by, Hu Shutong felt the growing hostility. He didn't know what was being said behind his back, but the villagers became increasingly unfriendly to Hu Shutong and his group, as if they were there to swindle money from them.

The cold storage incident made the village seem lifeless, like a stubborn old man who wouldn't listen to anything.

But if you change the subject, you'll immediately realize that the people here are well-behaved and full of spirit.

Under the large banyan tree at the village entrance, a "banyan tree blessing" ceremony, held once a season, is taking place.

A circle of tables was set up under the banyan tree, with various kinds of fruit placed on tall plates and bowls. Every household, adults and children alike, had ribbons tied around their wrists, mostly red and gold. After praying for a while in front of the banyan tree, they hung the ribbons on the drooping branches.

The sight was so surreal that it seemed like something out of a cave, waiting to spring forth at the first clap of thunder. This was a rare opportunity, so Hu Shutong grabbed the megaphone hanging from his waist and shouted it out after finishing his prayers.

"Fellow villagers! I'm a student from Mingda University. Cold storage isn't just a money pit; it's something that can actually make us money! With cold storage, what we can't sell today can be stored for half a month or a month. And this time, we can get agricultural machinery subsidies; the government subsidizes 35%, and a cold storage facility can last for twenty years!"

"Everyone disperse! Everyone disperse!" someone shouted from the crowd.

Hu Shutong glanced around and saw that the troublemakers were the ones who started it all. His voice rose even louder, "Fellow villagers, with cold storage, our fruit won't wilt and spoil. We won't have to wait endlessly for trucks, worrying about getting a few cents' worth! Big or small, it'll all be good fruit outside! Fellow villagers, this is all our harvest! During peak season, we sell cheaply, but with cold storage, we can avoid the peak season. We all know that watermelons cost 12 cents in summer and 45 cents in winter. Nothing is worse than a fuller wallet!"

"Let's go, let's go!"

"Fellow villagers! How can you get rich without investing! Everyone knows that turning three rows of grapevines into nine rows will earn you more money, and a high-powered water pump makes the seedlings grow better. It's the same principle. Plus, there are government subsidies. What else do you have to worry about!"

Hu Shutong's words were not without effect, especially when it came to money; many people slowed down. But no matter how loud the words, they couldn't stop those who were rushing them. Fruit farmers were small businesses, and if any of the truck drivers took a dislike to them and said a few words to the truck drivers, they might not be able to harvest their fruit for months.

A moment later, when I looked again, all I could see was a figure silhouetted against the wind, like a reed bed swaying in the wind.

……

I've loved cold chain logistics for twenty years.