On the other side of the field ridge, Mr. Zhang looked at the rice seedlings growing strong in each seedbed, and his heart filled with a joy he couldn't put into words. For an old farmer, nothing is more exciting than a good harvest.
It wouldn't be long before the fragrance of rice flowers drifted through the air, the ears of rice forming and filling; when autumn came, the sweet, fragrant rice would arrive with it.
Uncle Zhang raised his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He saw his second younger brother up ahead, bent over, grinning foolishly as he stroked the rice ears, and couldn't help rolling his eyes. Really had nothing better to do.
"What are you giggling for? There's none of it for you."
Mr. Zhang straightened his back and walked toward him with a chuckling "hey hey."
"Did you come looking for me this morning? What's up?"
