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After half a month of continuous rain, nearly every household experienced a thirty percent reduction in wheat production, and with sprouting, the quality of the wheat was very poor.
Hu Ruoyun heard from Second Master Kuei, who returned from the Grain Tax office, that the Grain Management Office in the township had changed the quality inspection form for grain, adding a new item: "Germination Rate." He spent the entire morning inspecting the wheat. Except for a few households with relatively clean wheat that received a grade five, the vast majority were graded six. This year, the Germination Rate determined the level of Grain Tax. For a family of five, the difference between grade six and grade five was nearly two cents per pound, which meant a loss of twenty to thirty dollars on their Grain Tax! Compared to previous years when they at least received a grade three rating, farmers were truly suffering significant losses.
But what could be done? Who could blame the weather this year?
No matter how unwilling they were, no one dared to avoid paying the Grain Tax. Reluctantly, they had to accept the harsh reality of this year's inspection ratings from the Grain Management Office.
Half a month later, the Village Chief announced through a loudspeaker: "The Grain Tax Collection is about to end. Those who haven't paid yet should hurry up. If you miss the deadline, it won't be me reminding you; it will be the police coming to collect..."
In the final days of Grain Tax Collection, Hu Ruoyun and his father loaded their donkey cart and called upon Second Uncle and his ox cart for help, bringing sixteen hundred pounds of wheat to the Grain Management Office.
The long lines of grain trucks from days before had disappeared. Seven or eight quality inspectors were chatting idly when they saw Hu Qihua's cart approaching. One inspector with a cigarette clamped between his ear and sporting a little mustache impatiently shouted, "Over here! I'm talking to you!"
Hu Ruoyun frowned but held back his words.
Hu Qihua quickly pulled on the donkey's reins and smiled as he led the donkey cart over. "Coming, coming!"
The little mustache inspector didn’t even look at Hu Qihua as he handed over a package of "Heimang Mountain" cigarettes (a popular brand among farmers due to its strong flavor). He pulled out a hollow scraper from his waist and poked it into one of the bags of wheat. The grains flowed out through the hollow handle. The inspector caught some grains in his palm, chewed them for a moment, then spat them out with a "pfft," tossing the remaining grains back onto the cart. He scribbled something on the nearby Quality Inspection Form with a ballpoint pen before tearing it off and tossing it to Hu Qihua. Since both Hu Ruoyun's father and Second Uncle were illiterate, they nervously handed it to Hu Ruoyun. Upon looking at it, Hu Ruoyun saw that all indicators like moisture and impurities were fine, but next to "Germination Rate," it read 94%, and under grade was an elaborate "sixth grade."
Hu Ruoyun turned to Little Mustache and said, "Master, your inspection can't be accurate. Look at my wheat; does it really have a 94% Germination Rate?"
Little Mustache scoffed dismissively: "This year, all across the county it's over 93%. There are plenty with 95%. What's so special about your 94%?"
Hu Qihua and Hu Ruoyun's Second Uncle, Hu Zhenhua, were at a loss.
Hu Ruoyun looked at Little Mustache and said, "You should check a few more bags and see the wheat grains; the Germination Rate definitely won't exceed 10%!"
This made not only Little Mustache laugh but also a group of Quality Inspectors nearby burst into laughter. Little Mustache stared wide-eyed and exclaimed, "Kid, are you talking nonsense? We've been testing for days, and the lowest Germination Rate we've seen is still over 90%! What’s wrong? Is your family somehow blessed by heaven? Did that strong wind miss your fields, or did that heavy rain not reach your crops?"
From a distance, a group of people emerged from the office. Leading them was a young man carrying a camera, accompanied by a stylishly dressed woman holding a microphone. The others in the group were either portly or wearing glasses, some even donned newly fashionable suits, but they all seemed to be following a middle-aged man with a pompadour hairstyle.
Among the accompanying crowd, one person noticeably tensed upon hearing the laughter. He quickly approached a middle-aged man in a Zhongshan Suit and whispered hurriedly before striding over to reprimand the Quality Inspectors: "Are you all just standing around? Journalists from the Provincial Television Station are here, along with leaders from the province, city, and county. What do you think you're doing? Don’t you have any sense of decorum? If you don’t want to work, then get lost! Don’t mess things up here!"
The group of Quality Inspectors suddenly fell silent, only Little Mustache shot an angry glare at Hu Ruoyun.
Seeing the approaching group, Hu Qihua and Hu Zhenhua were extremely anxious: what trouble had their child stirred up?
However, Hu Ruoyun was unperturbed. He rushed over and snatched the scraper from Little Mustache's hands, swiftly plunging it into his family's grain cart's bag. He poured some grains into his palm and raised them towards the person who had just scolded the Quality Inspectors, deliberately speaking loudly: "Leader, this Quality Inspector is irresponsible! The bad weather causing reduced wheat yield is a Natural Disaster, but my family's wheat being rated as six is considered a Man-Made Disaster! If you don't believe me, you can test it yourself!"
These words stunned Shi Potian; how could a half-grown child dare to speak like that to the head of the Grain Management Office?
Not only this minor leader but also the reporters and numerous officials behind him were clearly taken aback.
The leading Pompadour stepped forward and glanced at the bewildered Grain Management Office personnel. He reached for the scraper from Hu Ruoyun's hand. Without saying anything, Hu Ruoyun pointed the blade towards himself and offered it. Pompadour looked at Hu Ruoyun and took it, then plunged it into one of the bags inside the grain cart. Grains spilled out as he skillfully caught them in his palm and inspected them with his fingers before handing it to a Zhongshan Suit-clad man behind him: "Director Wu, right? You should be an expert; can you estimate what this Germination Rate might be?" After saying this, he took the scraper back to Second Uncle's Ox Cart: "Brother, are you all together? Let me check the wheat on your cart too."
Seeing that Second Uncle was speechless, Hu Ruoyun gestured slightly: "Feel free to check."
Pompadour quickly tied up four bags, examining the sampled wheat closely before distributing them to the others behind him. "County Chief Jiang, Mayor Meng... you should take a look as well."
He then called over the Quality Inspector. "You're the head of the Grain Management Office, right? Come, take a look."
Director Hu received the grains with both hands, astonished, as if he were holding a handful of precious gold beans, carefully inspecting them in front of him.
Hu Ruoyun handed over their Wheat Quality Inspection Form to Pompadour. "Leaders, please take a look at the Germination Rate and grade they provided me."
The man referred to as Director Wu quickly took the form. "I'm from our county's grain bureau; let me check this."
After just a glance, Director Wu's expression darkened. He almost shouted as he threw the form back at the head of the Grain Management Office. "Is this your level of work?"
Meanwhile, Pompadour turned to the mayor and county chief who had examined the wheat. "What do you think? You are both in charge of agriculture; what Germination Rate do you see here? What grade can you assign?"
County Chief Jiang hesitated. "I see... the Germination Rate is below 10%. It could be rated as third class."
Mayor Meng chimed in, "Given this year's unusual weather, such quality wheat is truly rare!"
Pompadour extended his hand toward the head of the Grain Management Office. "Come on, let me see the inspection results you provided..."
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