Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 44 Boring

After returning from the back mountain, Lu Chuan went back to the flat and open grain drying ground in the village.

It was afternoon, and the sun hung overhead like a giant fireball.

The rice stalks were spread out on the ground, emitting a slightly smoky aroma.

Lu Chuan sat back down in the shade by the field, still clutching the bird-scare pole with the red ribbon tied to it.

This job is extremely taxing on one's will.

In this almost still heatwave, people are very prone to drowsiness, but then flocks of sparrows arrive, swooping down from the shade of the trees one after another.

"Hey!"

Lu Chuan flicked his wrist, and the red cloth strip left a blur, startling several sparrows that were about to land into flight.

"Brother, here you go."

The younger sister produced a large lotus leaf from somewhere, filled it with several crystal-clear purple mulberries, and handed it to Lu Chuan.

Her little face was flushed from the sun, and her big eyes were full of life.

Lu Chuan took the mulberry, and its refreshing sweet and sour taste melted on his tongue.

"Xiaoman, look at this threshing ground. Doesn't it look like the paper we used to practice calligraphy in the school?" Lu Chuan pointed to the neat rows of grain piles that had been pushed by wooden rakes.

The little sister tilted her head and looked at it for a while, then giggled: "It looks like it! Those rows and rows are the horizontal strokes that my brother wrote. And these sparrows are just random ink drops."

Lu Chuan chuckled and ruffled her hair: "You're right. That's why you have to write neatly."

When the villagers who were passing by saw the brother and sister, one holding a stick like a pen and the other sitting on the ground like a meditator, they couldn't help but give them a thumbs up.

By evening, the heat had finally dissipated somewhat.

Lu Shouye and Dashanbo, along with a group of men, returned from the fields carrying heavy baskets on their backs.

They were soaked in sweat, their skin tanned a bronze color, but looking at the golden rice on the threshing floor, joy shone in everyone's eyes.

"Chuan'er, you must be exhausted?" Lu Shouye walked over, wiped the sweat from his brow with his rough hands, and nodded with satisfaction as he looked at the grain field that Lu Chuan had turned over and dried evenly, without any bird damage.

Lu Chuan shook his head and handed over a bowl of cooled tea: "Dad, I'm not tired. Seeing all this grain going into the granary makes me feel at ease."

Although the work at the threshing ground was grueling, what Lu Chuan found most appealing was the brief moment of tranquility when they finished work in the evening.

As dusk settles and the summer heat is gradually dissipated by the evening breeze, Lu Chuan would always take Xiao Man and slowly walk home along the ridges between the fields.

At this moment, neat rows of broken stalks remain in the freshly harvested rice paddies.

The cicadas' chirping in the roadside grass had become somewhat hoarse, replaced by the low humming of other insects.

"Brother, look, what's that?" Xiaoman suddenly pointed to a patch of light by the ditch in front of her.

Lu Chuan looked closely and saw that it was a few naughty children from the same village, who were groping around barefoot in the ditch that was over their ankles.

"It's a loach!" Lu Chuan smiled, then took off his cloth shoes, rolled up his trousers, and led Xiaoman into the water.

The cool canal water instantly enveloped his ankles, which were burning hot from the scorching sun, and the refreshing coolness made him let out a long sigh of relief.

He mimicked the way he remembered farm children, clasping his hands together and holding his breath as he peered into the murky mud.

"flap!"

A slippery little creature flicked its tail in his palm and darted into the depths.

"It's gone! The loach is gone!" Xiaoman clapped and jumped on the shore.

Back at the big locust tree at the village entrance, a circle of men were already sitting there resting.

Seventh Uncle sat cross-legged on a smooth bluestone slab, staring blankly at the distant sunset.

Seeing Lu Chuan approaching, he waved and pulled out a wild melon warmed by the embers from his pocket.

"Chuan'er, try this. It was dug out from a crack in the rocks behind the mountain. It's incredibly sweet."

Lu Chuan took the sweet potato, peeled off the soil-covered skin to reveal the bright red flesh, took a bite, and found it was indeed more refreshing than the fruit sold in the shops in the county town.

"Seventh Uncle, this year's harvest looks much better than in previous years." Lu Chuan sat down next to the old man.

Uncle Qi's cloudy eyes shone with light: "Yes, thank God, we didn't suffer from drought. But Chuan'er, everyone knows that what truly puts our minds at ease is the hundred acres of Pinellia ternata on the back mountain. We've farmed all our lives, and we've never seen any kid plant herbs like grain."

A man nearby chuckled and said, "Chuan'er, tell everyone, can you match one of those couplets you learned at school for our old ox? So it can have another calf next year?"

Everyone burst into laughter.

Lu Chuan laughed along with him. Looking at these people who were bent over by life but were still cheerful, he suddenly had a very strange feeling.

He studied at the academy to change his life and for fame and fortune; but now, what he wants to protect even more is the fragrance of sweet potatoes in the garden and the freedom of sitting under the locust tree and laughing heartily after a hard day's work.

He stood up, brushed the dirt off his clothes, cupped his hands in a gesture of respect to the amusing man, and winked mischievously: "Second Uncle, I do have a couplet for this calf, but I'm afraid it'll get too smug after hearing it and refuse to pull the plow anymore."

The crowd burst into laughter again.

On his way home, Xiaoman carried the few unlucky loaches he had caught in the ditch, banging them against the earthenware pot.

"Brother, now that you're back at the academy, can I catch loaches like this every day?" Xiaoman asked abruptly.

Lu Chuan stopped and squatted down, looking at his sister's hair, which was damp with sweat: "Catching loaches is fine, but Xiaoman, after we sell this batch of pinellia, I want to send you to the embroidery shop in town to learn a trade, or hire a literate aunt to teach you accounting."

Xiaoman nodded as if she understood, and hugged the earthenware pot tighter.

The joy of the summer harvest had barely begun when people in Lujia Village were already rushing to plant new crops.

On this land, July is not only the harvest season, but also a crucial time to race against time and seize every opportunity.

Standing on high ground, Lu Chuan looked out and saw that the once golden rice fields were now nothing but neat rows of stubble.

Even a day's delay in planting could significantly reduce the autumn harvest, directly impacting the village's food supply for the next six months and the heavy taxes they would have to pay.

The tribespeople had no time to catch their breath; they practically put down their harvesting sickles and immediately picked up their plows and rakes to turn the soil.

The few old oxen that the village had become the most valuable source of labor, and each household took turns carefully leading them.

They were harnessed to heavy wooden plows, and with their owners' shouts of both heartache and urgency, they strained forward, their nostrils flaring and their breaths rumbling.

"rise!"

Lu Dashan stood barefoot in the muddy water that reached above his ankles, his arms bulging with veins as he gripped the plow handle tightly.

With a "thud," the hard iron plowshare cut through the hardened soil, turning over the old rice roots and burying the weeds deep in the mud, preparing a warm bed for the new crop of seedlings.

Most of the cattle herders were shirtless, their bronze backs tanned and shiny under the scorching sun.