The rows of silkworm sheds had been built in neat order.
Shen Tang had come by especially to take a look.
A group of female workers tending the silkworms were settling the eggs in an orderly fashion.
When Shen Tang stepped inside, a wave of warm air greeted her. Rows of wooden racks, staggered at different heights, were covered with densely packed silkworm eggs—a sight that made her trypophobia threaten to kick in. In the corner of the shed, tools such as silkworm nets of various sizes, bamboo poles, trays, and brooms were stacked neatly.
The temperature inside was noticeably higher than outdoors, to maintain the ideal temperature for hatching. Apparently, some effort had gone into the sheds' construction. Inspired by heated brick beds, they had used bamboo tubes and other materials to create an indoor insulation system.
The only trouble was that they had no thermometer. The indoor temperature had to be adjusted by the workers themselves, based on their experience raising silkworms, which wasn't very convenient.
"With this many, we can make a silk quilt later."
If they had enough, they could even use them as year-end bonuses for the government staff.
Gu Chi asked, "Year-end bonus?"
Shen Tang teased him. "What, you think that's too shabby?"
Gu Chi shook his head. "Of course not."
Don't underestimate one little silk quilt.
That thing was truly precious.
Though plenty of families raised silkworms, yields were low. Only the wealthy and powerful could afford to wear silk and sleep beneath silk quilts. Those a little worse off filled their quilts with rabbit or sheep wool, or feathers from other domestic fowl.
And the ordinary folk at the very bottom?
Their quilts were usually stuffed with poplar catkins, willow fluff, reed flowers, or even rice straw. You could imagine how well