The little one's purse connects the two worlds, turning a desolate village into a paradise.

After finishing their afternoon meal, the villagers of Lotus Village cleaned up the pots and pans, rested for a while, and then got back to their work.

Gou Ya and Dr. Chen continued to work on the solar photovoltaic panels and inverter integrated machine that had been moved to Dr. Chen's yard, while Ji Chuntao stayed by the stove, slowly simmering chili sauce and stewing chicken and snail soup.

This sauce isn't just for casual family meals; it's for sale. So, I added more minced meat than before, and used pork belly that my daughter brought back yesterday. The meat I used before was foreleg meat, which doesn't have the same even fat-to-lean ratio as this pork belly.

Grandpa Wang, Grandpa Sun, and several others were busy weaving straw sandals. They still needed about a hundred pairs more to finish the order.

Zhao Hu led Fang Daniu to the place where the construction waste and slag that Nannan had brought back in the past few days were piled up. Now these small cement blocks are enough to fill in a layer on the road that everyone in the village often walks.

The Qingming Festival is in three days, so we need to pave the road with a simple layer of paving before it rains.

The village chief carried two large bamboo baskets to the abandoned yard where the four horses were temporarily housed. Fang Tiesheng followed behind with a small notebook in his hand. Grandpa Liu, Grandpa Li, Niu Cuihua, and a few others also came over, each carrying a hoe and a rake.

There were also several smaller bamboo baskets in the yard, filled with potato seedlings that had already been sprouted. On top of one of the baskets were two sprouted sweet potatoes, which stood out among the row of yellowish-brown tubers.

After checking all the seeds in the basket, the village chief pulled out a piece of coarse burlap and covered the opening of the basket tightly to block the slanting sunlight and prevent the tender sprouts from drying out.

In the corner sat a large, coarse cloth bag, filled with the ashes left over from burning firewood.

"Put all the baskets on the horse's back. While the sun is still gentle in the afternoon, let's plant these potato seedlings." The village chief took the lead, securing two large baskets to the horse's back with ropes on either side, and then took the reins.

The village chief believed he had developed feelings for this jet-black horse and named it Black Egg.

"Our Black Egg is really strong. Look at its glossy fur and its muscular shoulders and back."

Black Horse snorted disdainfully but did not resist, letting the village chief's rough hands caress his body.

Grandpa Liu also led the horse that Ya Ya had named Pipi, put the remaining baskets on the horse's back, and carried the bag of ashes in his hand. Several old men and women walked along the dirt road toward the sunny barren slope behind the village.

The mountain breeze at the beginning of April still carried a bit of chill, making one feel refreshed when it blew against one's skin.

In previous years, this wind was cold and biting, making you shiver just from a gust.

But now everyone is wearing warm quilted work clothes. The outer layer of material is solid and stiff, so the wind can't get in. The cotton-padded coat inside feels like a small stove, and the pants also block the wind. As you walk, you feel warm all over.

On the way, Grandpa Li looked at the wasteland in the distance and said, "Gousheng, this slope of ours is raw soil, without any manure. With just the soil's strength, can anything grow? I heard that these potato seedlings can yield a thousand catties. I don't want the soil to not be fertile enough to ruin such good seedlings."

"Let's put some wood ash as a base first. Nannan said this stuff isn't picky about the soil, and if it doesn't grow well later, we can add more fertilizer. Right now, we don't even have manure to put at the bottom."

Niu Cuihua chimed in from the side, "There's not much in the newly dug pond yet, but luckily we've added four horses now, and we'll have two more chicks tomorrow. We can collect more animal manure and once it's fully decomposed, we won't have to worry about fertilizer."

The group quickly reached the foot of the barren slope. The village chief reined in Heidan and stopped the horse. Everyone unloaded the bamboo baskets from the horses and placed them properly on a flat spot at the bottom of the slope. They also carried the bags of ashes to the edge of the field.

Looking up, the entire sunny slope was overgrown with wasteland, with vines and weeds tangled together and the soil hard and compacted in one place.

"First, remove all the weeds and tree roots, then break up the clods of soil. The slope can't retain water, so the soil needs to be loosened up," the village chief said, picking up his hoe.

Grandpa Liu and Grandpa Li, carrying hoes, cleared the hillside from the top, cutting the roots and stems of the weeds with each stroke. Niu Cuihua, holding a wooden rake, followed behind, gathering the weeds and dead branches and piling them all up in an open space at the bottom of the hill.

These weeds and withered branches can be dried and burned into wood ash for later use.

Fang Tiesheng squatted to the side, taking out a small notebook and recording the land reclamation data on paper.

All of them were elderly, and digging through the hard, raw soil was particularly strenuous. After digging only a small patch, the village chief's back began to stiffen, and Grandpa Li's knees started to ache. Grandpa Liu shook his leaden arms, supported his back, and slowly sat down under the shade of a tree on the slope.

"I can't go on, I need to rest."

"I'm getting old and useless." Grandpa Li also walked to the side, supporting his knees and slowly squatting down, raising his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

After resting for a while and getting over the stuffiness, the two of them helped each other to their feet. "Cuihua! Gousheng! We've rested enough, you two should rest too, don't overwork yourselves."

The village chief, supporting himself with a hoe, was about to refuse when two heads popped up from the bottom of the slope.

"Uncle!"

"mother!"

Zhao Hu and Da Niu strode closer and took the farm tools from the village chief and Niu Cuihua.

"How did you two get here? Is the road paved?" Fang Tiesheng looked up.

Da Niu waved his hoe: "No, we've only paved half of it. We'll pave the other half after we finish clearing the land. We can pave the road day or night, it won't delay us. Mom, you go and rest."

Zhao Hu held a rake in one hand and put down the bamboo basket on his back with the other: "I also brought a few bottles of hot water. Uncle Village Chief, Uncle Liu, you can have some and rest."

"You guys..." The village chief, supporting his back, moved to the shade of a tree.

The two young men were strong and focused on digging out the gnarled old tree roots buried deep in the soil. When they encountered hard clods of earth the size of a fist or a bowl, they would swing their hoes high and bring them down hard to crack the soil.

With two young men helping out, the progress was much faster. After resting for a while, the elderly continued to clear away the remaining small weeds, carefully digging out the soil that Da Niu and Zhao Hu had knocked away. When they encountered pebbles buried in the soil, they picked them out and threw them into the basket to prevent them from rubbing against the tender shoots when planting later.

After working for almost an hour, all the weeds on the slope were cleared away, and a new layer of soil was turned up over the entire slope.

The village chief grabbed a handful of soil, made sure there were no obstructions that could get the plow stuck, then led the two horses under the tree over, retrieved the wooden plow, and harnessed the two horses side by side with a rope.

"The roots and stones have been cleared away, but the soil in this raw land is stiff. Tiger, Da Niu, give me a hand and hold the plow tail."

Da Niu and Zhao Hu stepped forward to stabilize the back of the plow handle, while the village chief held the plow head steady.

With a soft shout, the two horses strode forward in unison, their shoulders and backs tense. The group slowly advanced down the slope, the plowshares cutting deep into the soil, thoroughly turning over the hardened earth beneath.