It's just that they have money.

"It's not that it won't work." Huang Zi'ang thought for a moment and carefully spoke, "I've seen this idea at other picking farms. Blueberry farms, cherry farms, vineyards, they all do it this way. The problem is, why would people come here? They drive dozens of kilometers, get stuck in traffic for half a day, come and pick a basket of blueberries, which costs more than in the supermarket. And then? They leave. Will they come again next time? Not necessarily. Most people come once and never come back, it's just for the novelty. Once the novelty wears off, you can invite them but they won't come back."

Fang Chen didn't speak.

Huang Ziang is right; there is no repeat purchase after picking.

Xuwen is a perfect example.

She had lived in Jiangcheng for several years, working more overtime than resting. It was a rare weekend when she could not think about anything or rush anything, and quietly squat in the field picking fruit, eating one and smiling, eating one and smiling again.

But if it weren't for work, she wouldn't have come here on her own initiative.

I will never come back again.

A person won't want to pick blueberries again this month just because they picked them last month.

Same land, same fruit, same process—nothing changes. Guests come once, take a few photos, post them on social media, the task is done, and they move on to another location the following weekend.

Moreover, if the orchard is located around Jiangcheng, that's also a good option, as it has a strong ability to attract customers.

This place is a bit far from the big cities.

"So just picking fruit isn't enough," Fang Chen said. "When people come here, it's not just about picking fruit; there needs to be something else that makes them want to stay, have fun, eat a meal, and feel like they haven't wasted their day."

Huang Zi'ang did not refute.

The two people were standing at the entrance of the greenhouse, talking, when Xu Wen walked over carrying a full basket of blueberries.

Fang Chen glanced at the basket in her hand. "You picked so much?"

Xu Wen put the basket on the ground, stretched his shoulders, and didn't respond to the conversation.

Fang Chen noticed her expression; it wasn't the relaxed look one gets after picking fruit, but rather an expression that suggested she had something to say.

"What's wrong?" Fang Chen asked.

Xu Wen hesitated for a moment: "When I was picking fruit just now, I chatted with a lady next to me for a bit. Her surname is Chen, and she lives nearby."

Fang Chen didn't respond, waiting for her to continue.

"She rents her land to the farm for over two thousand yuan a year. She works there for one hundred yuan a day. Her husband works away from home and comes back once a year." Xu Wen paused, "She said she doesn't earn as much as she did when she farmed on her own, and she's not as carefree as before."

"She said that before, when she farmed, the land was her own, and she could plant whatever she wanted. She felt at ease after harvesting the crops. Now that she's rented out her land and works for others, the work isn't strenuous, but it just doesn't feel the same." Xu Wen glanced at Fang Chen as she said this. "She said she only has one hope: that her boss is reliable and won't run away after two years. If the land is left uncultivated for two years, it will be difficult to farm again."

Fang Chen did not respond immediately.

He recalled what Huang Zi'ang had said before: this base didn't belong to him alone, but to the farmers who rented out their land and the workers who squatted in the fields every day.

"Zi'ang, tell me, besides blueberries, what else can be grown on this land?"

Huang Zi'ang held the enamel mug and thought for a moment. "We can't mix different varieties, or the pollination will be messed up. But we can plant other things in the surrounding open spaces. Strawberries, cherries, grapes, anything will do, but the initial investment will be quite large."

"No need to plant," Fang Chen said. "You just need to prepare the land, repair the roads, and set up the sheds, and let the tourists pick the fruit themselves. It's not just blueberries; there will be fruit to pick all year round. Tourists can come all year round, pick fruit, have a meal, and after the meal, they can take their children to play and rest when they're tired. This isn't a fruit picking garden; it's a farm stay."

"Agritourism?"

"That would require running a catering business, which involves a whole host of things like hygiene permits, fire safety, and smoke extraction."

"Leave all of this to me; you just focus on the fields."

Huang Zi'ang didn't look up. "We also need someone who can cook. It has to be farm-style food, not too fancy, but it has to taste good. It can't be the kind of group meal you eat once and don't want to eat a second time."

Fang Chen thought for a moment and said, "I'll figure out a way to handle the chef issue."

"Fang Chen, the way you're doing this, the amount of money invested is not small," Huang Zi'ang said.

"I know."

"I can't predict when we'll break even."

"You don't need to calculate it," Fang Chen said. "Just focus on farming. I'll figure out how to make money."

Huang Zi'ang looked at him, remained silent for a while, and then nodded.

"Now that the picking garden is up and running, we need a lot of workers. We prioritize hiring people from the village for jobs like explaining, guiding, cleaning, and helping in the kitchen. We'll have someone like Sister Chen work as an explanation guide. She's worked the land her whole life, and she can explain how blueberries are grown to city people much better than someone we hire from outside."

Fang Chen paused and looked in the direction of the harvesting workers.

In the distance, Sister Chen was squatting on the ground tidying up her tools.

She carefully put the scissors into her canvas bag, one by one. Her movements were slow, but each one was deliberate and thorough. Her head, covered by a blue headscarf, was lowered, so her face could not be seen.

Fang Chen withdrew his gaze, turned around, and patted Huang Zi'ang on the shoulder. "Finish what you're doing first. The orchard isn't urgent; take your time thinking about it. The fruit in the fields is the foundation of this year's harvest, so don't get distracted."

Huang Zi'ang kicked the branch aside. "I know."

For the next two hours, Fang Chen squatted in the sorting area, picking fruit with the workers.

He said he was choosing, but actually he wasn't the one making the choices.

The workers were choosing, and he watched.

Huang Zi'ang set a set of standards: fruits with a diameter of less than 14 mm should not be accepted; fruits with more than one-third of their bloom damaged should not be accepted; fruits whose color is not deep blue with purple should not be accepted; fruits with scars or soft spots on the skin should not be accepted.

The selected fruits were divided into three grades.

The first-grade fruit, the largest in size, the darkest in color, and with the most intact fruit powder, is packed into custom-made pearl cotton trays, twelve fruits per box, neatly arranged.

Second-grade fruit is smaller, but the flavor is just as good. It is packaged in ordinary plastic boxes and sold through supermarkets and hypermarkets.

Grade 3 fruit has minor flaws but is still edible and is reserved for processing, such as making jam or frozen fruit.

Fang Chen picked up a box of first-grade fruit and looked at it.

The pearl cotton tray is custom-made, with a blue base and the words "Chenlan" printed on it. The font was designed by someone else, simple but not shabby.

Each blueberry is nestled in its own hollow, not pressed against each other, and when you pick it up, the bloom is intact, as if it had just been picked from the branch.

"How's the connection with supermarket channels going?" Fang Chen asked Xu Wen.

"Three premium supermarkets in Jiangcheng are willing to accept our fruit, but they said they would wait for feedback from the first batch of customers before placing subsequent orders."

"OK."

Before loading the fruit onto the truck, Fang Chen left behind two boxes of first-grade fruit and cold chain packaging.

He intends to give these away as gifts.