Chapter 603: 603. The Power of Sorghum_1 Chapter 603: 603. The Power of Sorghum_1 The sky gradually darkened.
Qiaoqiao was so busy she barely stopped moving. No sooner had she come down from the mountain than she picked up the dog food Wu Lan had prepared earlier and placed it on the tricycle, then grabbed the pig food bucket and climbed back up the back mountain.
The seven pigs had an extra meal today, but they still greeted her arrival with thunderous oinking. Qiaoqiao fed them steadily, and then swiftly scooped up the sorghum and rice husks into the chicken coop.
In an instant, chickens from all over the mountains swarmed in again, and the whole mountain gradually filled with a faint aroma of alcohol.
After Qiaoqiao left, Big Wang set aside the pumpkin by his mouth and curiously looked at the sorghum in the chicken coop that was different from his own food.
But soon he sneezed and buried his head back into the pumpkin.
In a corner that he didn’t notice, the grey-furred squirrels on the mountain, who had been behaving for a long time, couldn’t hold back any longer and cautiously descended from the trees again.
Then, taking advantage of the dim night, they quickly and nimbly climbed onto the chicken coop.
They moved deftly and orderly, their shiny black eyes fixed intently on the sorghum pecked around by the chickens; they really wanted to try it!
But they were put off by the pungent smell of alcohol, hesitating for a moment.
One grey-furred squirrel, lagging behind, had now landed on the ground, embarrassingly scratching its own behind with very human-like paws, and now hardly daring to move…
If Song Tan were here, she would have recognized it as the squirrel she had used to make an example to others — its behind had been swollen from being hit by small branches!
But soon, the allure of new food diverted their attention, and with their inherent thieving nature, it had been so long since they’d last pilfered!
Every day, they looked enviously at the delicious food within human grasp, even that golden-furred field mouse inside the house only ate and ate… they really craved it badly!
So, the squirrels followed the plump bellies of the chickens, weaving through them until they reached the pile of sorghum. Without hesitation, they started scooping it up with their little paws and stuffing their cheeks full, so bulging that they accidentally swallowed a few grains…
Hmm, why does it taste so good yet so strange?
One by one, two by two, three by three…
They lined up, retreating in an order? But the smell of sorghum in their mouths was weird, something they had never tasted before, and also brought a subtle intoxicating sensation that made their movements up the tree slow down.
Somehow, their eyes began to feel wobbly — the wind’s so strong, why is the tree swaying?
A few squirrels strangely flexed their cheeks and tried hard to hold onto the swaying branches. By chance, gripping the tree bark, they “scuttled” upwards, but for some reason, felt weak in hands and feet…
So sleepy! So dizzy… who’s spinning around?
Afterward, there came a “thump” from the pile of leaves, and a grey-furred squirrel dropped straight down, lying softly on the ground, unable to get up.
“Squeak squeak squeak squeak!”
Did it die? What’s going on?!
The squirrels instantly became alert and hurriedly climbed down to check.
But no matter what they did, the one below just wouldn’t wake up.
And at that moment, the chickens in the coop also started making odd cooing sounds, one after another.
When they looked again, they saw the chickens wobbling, then gradually collapsed, closing their eyes even before making it into the coop!
That shiny-feathered rooster was especially proud, and in the late evening, it actually jumped onto a high point, craning its neck —
But before it could find its footing, its claws suddenly slipped, and with a “thud” it fell back onto the grass. It took a good while before it staggered to its feet, strutted around a bit, and let out a soft “coo” before squatting down again, finally at peace.
Not far away, Big Wang cautiously dropped the pumpkin and stood up.
His nose twitched as he carefully sniffed the strange aroma in the air, but aside from the food Qiaoqiao had provided, there were no other miscellaneous smells!
He let out a low growl, threatening an imaginary enemy, and then, not feeling reassured, stood up. His massive silhouette was especially intimidating in the dim twilight.
After that, he circled the henhouse, but failed to detect any abnormalities or catch the scent and footsteps of anyone else.
The king cocked his head in bewilderment.
Yet, as his ears twitched, he saw the pigs in the pigsty stumbling and bumping into things, one black pig even bashed into a tree, and for some reason began rubbing its body against the bark.
While rubbing, it simply lay down on the ground.
With its belly rising and falling gently, it was obviously asleep.
In the thick shadows of the woods, the king sat crouching there, lifting his front paws back and forth in puzzlement.
Meanwhile, at Lao Song’s family, where Song Tan was helping set the table, she suddenly tilted her head and then asked:
“Mom, how much sorghum did you put in the feed?”
Wu Lan didn’t pay much mind, “It was just enough to fill a sack that didn’t fit in the freezer, so I just dumped it all into the basin. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Song Tan slowly picked up the plate and then said, “It’s just that I remembered our chickens and pigs have never drunk alcohol, so they probably can’t hold their liquor. Next time let’s use less sorghum.”
“What?” Wu Lan was startled.
However, before Song Tan could respond, Qiaoqiao suddenly ran back in:
“Sister, what’s going on? Big White and the ducks fell asleep after eating, and they won’t wake up even when I poke them!”
“Big White ate a lot of rice husks and now can’t be woken up. How’s he going to protect the ducks tonight?”
Qiaoqiao was really worried.
Wu Lan’s first reaction was: Oh no! Could it be an epidemic illness?!
Then she realized–could it be the alcohol?!
She was full of regret, “Aiyah. Wasn’t that sorghum steamed? How can it still be so strong? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have put so much.”
“What’s this about steamed sorghum being so strong?” overhearing bits and pieces, Seventh Uncle chimed in:
“You mean that sorghum? If it weren’t strong, Sancheng wouldn’t have suggested using it to bait the fish. It needs to get those fish drunk enough.”
Wu Lan felt helpless, “I didn’t expect this… Big White is drunk. This… this is too much.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Song Tan hastily reassured her, “Aren’t the cameras installed? There’s one by the duck pen; I can watch the monitor tonight.”
“Don’t worry, mom. It has a recognition feature and will automatically broadcast if it detects people.”
There was no other solution. They couldn’t stay up all night to watch, could they? They would have to remember this lesson.
Just then, Song Youde came over with a group of people, including the excavator operator who had just finished his work, taken a bath, and changed his clothes.
After working for two days, his skin had turned even darker, second only to Zhang Yanping who wasn’t at home.
Seeing Wu Lan, he flashed a broad smile, showing off his bright white teeth, and asked what he did every day:
“Auntie, what are we eating today?”