Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest
Chapter 133 - 5: Autumn Plowing and First Snow

Chapter 133: Chapter 5: Autumn Plowing and First Snow

The bustling autumn harvest celebration went on until the world seemed to turn dark, and the drinking led to thorough intoxication.

Bonfires were still lit at midnight.

There was a trend towards an all-night revelry.

Roman did not stop them.

These fools have been busy for half a year, what’s wrong with enjoying two days?

On the second day after the celebration, everyone returned to their work positions.

Because autumn plowing had begun.

Farming allows no rest; after the harvest, you must immediately return to labor.

Now it was late autumn, and the cold winds from the Extreme North Icefield began to blow towards the Black Iron Land, while the Northern Land had already entered the cold season early.

Sige Town, surrounded by mountains, blocked the cold winds; it was still high autumn with clear skies, showing no signs of winter’s onset.

But the daily drop in temperature could be felt subtly.

There’s still time to plant a round of winter wheat!

Roman regarded this autumn plowing as extremely important, to put it bluntly, Sige Town’s main staple food for next year all depended on this round of winter wheat.

Therefore, he made thorough preparations.

Next, they had to deeply plow and turn the soil again, accelerating soil maturation.

While sowing, every acre of land had to be mixed with 1,500 pounds of peat and manure, turning into nutrient-rich soil, allowing winter wheat seedlings to spend the winter in the most comfortable and nutrient-rich environment, gathering a large amount of energy for next year’s harvest.

This time, he increased the wheat seed per acre to 40 pounds, raising the yield through increased sowing.

Plant fiercely!

Grow fiercely!

Roman increased the winter wheat planting area to 10,000 acres – in addition to the well-maintained 6,000 acres, adding another 4,000 acres of carefully selected land with a farming base.

Such a vast farming area was not just one piece but spread across Sige Town.

Steel farm tools greatly improved production efficiency.

Now Sige Town lacked neither steel nor livestock; the old inferior heavy plows were directly discarded.

Over 700 oxen and draft horses, pulling sharp and new steel heavy plows, turned the deep black soil, exposing the insect eggs and grass seeds buried in the ground, bringing them to the surface to dry and freeze to death.

The benefits of autumn plowing were greater than spring plowing; Roman would not miss this opportunity for anything.

He fed the oxen and draft horses ample soybean grain, allowing them to plow to the maximum extent, with the mindset of using them to death, they completed the deep plowing task in seven days.

Sowing and fertilizing were much simpler.

Last time Roman worried about the fertility of the soil and manure, using row sowing and row fertilizing.

Now he used broadcast sowing, simply needing to evenly scatter the wheat seeds on the surface, then throw in 1,500 pounds of peat soil and manure into each plot, breaking them down, and burying the seeds in the loose soil.

This sowing method produced higher yields than row sowing, its drawback being the need for even spreading, hence those clumsy farmers were extra cautious.

This made Roman very satisfied; as long as they were patient enough and mastered the right methods, yields would not be low.

The silhouettes of numerous farmers diligently sowing and laboring each day stretched through the fields to the horizon.

Although the autumn plowing task was heavy, with so many hands and working over ten hours daily, deeply plowing and sowing seeds hand in hand, within about ten days, it was nearly completed.

Roman found there was actually a surplus of time.

The mountains blocked the cold currents; at the moment, the temperature of the basin had not fully dropped.

Roman also urged them to plant 300 acres of cabbage, 400 acres of radish, 500 acres of turnip, as well as lettuce, onions, and garlic.

Although individual farming areas were small, collectively they amounted to 2,000 acres.

As many overwintering vegetables as can be planted should be planted; once missed, one has to wait until the next year.

Each type of crop had a small planting area, but planting them was quite troublesome.

The fallow land was full of dry wild grass and shrubs, with no resemblance to farmland.

First was slash-and-burn cultivation, deeply plowing, clearing debris, and applying plenty of peat fertilizer.

Another ten days passed.

Finally, the vegetable seeds were buried in the soil.

This autumn plowing mobilized a significant amount of manpower and time, to the extent that salt boiling and iron refining work came to a complete halt.

Everyone looked forward to next year’s harvest.

It was at this time the basin welcomed a first snowfall.

...

The autumn plowing ended a bit late.

If it were outside, there’d be no way to plant vegetables.

The imminent cold current would choke off those seeds that hadn’t yet released their vitality.

The vast sky dropped fine snowflakes, like pear flower petals, landing on the freshly turned black soil, melting away quickly without a trace.

The wind wasn’t strong, the snow wasn’t heavy, giving a light feeling uncharacteristic of winter.

Is this the winter of the Black Iron Land?

Agata sat by the window, gazing into the distance, as if trying to perceive certain grand rules of operation from the obscure sky.

Here was the mess camp, known to those familiar with it as the "Big Kitchen."

Initially a spread of simple open sheds, the summer’s heavy rains wreaked havoc on them, causing wooden beams to collapse at one corner.

Luckily, they stayed in the livestock barn at the time, avoiding becoming drenched.

It then transformed into a professional kitchen with chimneys, ovens, and stoves.

During that hot summer, the young gentleman oversaw the work of the masons here.

He personally built the tallest chimney, saving them from the ordeal of smoke-filled suffering.

He designed a unique kitchen layout, dividing several areas—baking, vegetable washing and cutting, cooking and porridge boiling, each space had its corresponding function, with various cooking tools placed in order, dozens of cast iron pots settled on the stoves.

Every day over three hundred people busied themselves here.

Not all had to cook; some were responsible for meal transportation, some for serving meals, collecting and washing dishes.

There were also special diets provided solely to the Guards undergoing training.

Her work was relatively simple, just needing to stay by the ovens, waiting for the bread to bake.

They baked three to four thousand whole wheat loaves each day.

A row of more than two-meter-high bellows ovens, with six layers of racks, each able to hold 30 loaves of bread, getting baked in twenty to thirty minutes, wasn’t tiring though sometimes required overtime at night.

After cooling and hardening, the bread was sliced with a chopper, each loaf yielding ten slices.

At first, it was a bit chaotic, but once accustomed, it became routine, leaving little else to do other than daydreaming.

The early winter snow was white and crystal-like, matched the color of her hair.

But she had never seen such gentle snow.

As if lying on a warm bed, with a roaring fireplace, waking from a sweet dream, opening her eyes languidly, feeling nothing but comfort...

This was the snow of this land.

But Agata still remembered her former homeland, the snow of that Northern Land wasn’t like this.

It was a reproach from All Gods; the ancient souls buried on the land wandered every day, causing constant snowstorms.

Frozen ground couldn’t grow food.

The food would be taken away by the noble lords and priest lords.

The noble lords would take the food to train soldiers entering the whirlpool of war.

In those vague legends, the Wandong people could not escape the Northern Land, only the Guardian God could save them.

The Wandong Royal Family, who once prided themselves as descendants of the Guardian God, lost great power, unable to protect them from the wind and snow.

Under the Wind Snow God’s scourge, there was no path of survival but flight...

Agata gazed blankly for a long time.

When recalling those ancient legends difficult to remember, she shivered involuntarily, avoiding looking away, afraid that the howling wind and snow from the Northern Land would haunt this land, turning it into a place of suffering, freezing all life.

It won’t happen!

Agata comforted herself, turning her gaze to the baby girl beside her.

That lovely, rosy face, tender white hair, even and steady breathing, all indicated a child full of energy.

She had completely survived that crisis, now quietly sleeping in a dream.

Agata told herself.

The bitter destiny from the Northern Land will never entangle with her, the Guardian God will protect her! That gentleman will protect her!

...