“Now?”
Second Aunt was momentarily stunned, but she quickly understood and nodded firmly.
“Yes, we should bring it in before nightfall. Every extra day the grain stays in the fields is another day to worry.”
In these times of scarcity, when both food and clothing were hard to come by, even a single grain of rice or a stalk of vegetables could save a life.
Until the crops were safely stored away, it felt as though a heavy stone remained hanging over their hearts.
Grandmother rose to her feet with the support of her weathered wooden cane, determination shining through her clouded eyes.
“Wanwan has the final say, and we’ll listen to her. While it’s still light out, hurry to the fields and bring in the crops. We can’t afford to waste any food.”
Second Aunt immediately turned and began searching through the corner for the few old bamboo baskets and sickles the family owned.
Those farming tools had been used for many years. The blades of the sickles had been sharpened until they gleamed, while the edges of the bamboo baskets had been wrapped with hemp rope again and again. Several places had already broken and been carefully repaired.
In times of hardship, nothing could bear to be thrown away.
Second Uncle silently picked up the small shoulder pole by the door and tested its weight. Thick hemp ropes were tied to both ends, ready to bind the harvested crops.
His movements were swift and practiced. In this female dominated world, such work was traditionally done by men.
Men were also stronger, and tasks such as carrying heavy loads and bundling crops were generally handled by them.
Second Uncle had done this work all his life. He was steady and reliable, and he never made mistakes.
Everyone in the family had their own role, and no one remained idle.
Watching the scene before her, Jiang Wanning felt even more certain.
With such dependable family members by her side, along with the space she possessed, the days ahead would never be as difficult as they had once been.
“Brother, you and Second Uncle will carry the loads,” she said, quickly assigning everyone their tasks with crisp efficiency. “Second Aunt, Sister, and I will harvest the crops. Grandmother is getting older, so just watch our things at the edge of the field and rest.”
No one raised any objections, and everyone readily agreed.
Although Grandmother wanted to help, she knew that her body could no longer endure such strenuous work. Not becoming a burden to the younger generation was already the best thing she could do. She nodded and stood to one side with her cane, waiting to leave with the others.
The group headed toward their family’s fields.
The setting sun stretched their shadows long across the uneven dirt road, making them look like an elongated silhouette.
The once dilapidated little courtyard now seemed to carry a little more warmth and hope.
Their family’s land was located at the edge of the village, beside a dry earthen ditch. It was less than half a mu in size.
The fields were planted with drought resistant coarse grains, shriveled millet, thin sorghum, and several varieties of mixed beans whose names were difficult to identify.
The crops grew sparsely and unevenly, some tall and some short, as though someone had scattered the seeds carelessly and never tended to them afterward.
In previous years, the harvest would not even have been enough to fill the gaps between their teeth.
Once the husks and bran were removed, the remaining grains were pitifully few. They would not even last through half the winter before the family began going hungry.
Every year during the harvest, Second Aunt would sigh. Afterward, she would grit her teeth and store even those shriveled grains away, unwilling to waste a single one.
But things are different now.
Jiang Wanning had the space and the things bestowed upon her by the immortals.
Even so, whatever could be harvested still had to be harvested, and whatever could be stored still had to be stored. Every single grain of food was a resource that could help them survive.
Once they reached the field, Jiang Wanning was the first to pick up a sickle.
She had never been someone who was raised in luxury in her previous life. A child who had grown up in an orphanage had done all kinds of work. Pulling weeds, turning the soil, and carrying bricks were all things she had done before.
Now, after being nourished by the spirit spring within the space, this body, though still thin and weak, had grown much stronger than when she had first transmigrated.
Her movements were also lighter and quicker. With each swing of the sickle, a row of crops fell neatly to the ground.
Second Aunt and Jiang Wanxing followed closely behind, bending down to harvest alongside her. None of the three women were delicate or afraid of hard work.
Second Uncle and Jiang Baizhou followed behind them, bundling the harvested crops and carrying them to the edge of the field.
Second Uncle was exceptionally skilled at bundling crops. He would wrap the hemp rope around twice, pull it tight, and produce a sturdy bundle that was both firm and neat, one that would not come apart when carried over his shoulder.
Jiang Baizhou was strong, and carrying the loads did not take much effort from him. He went back and forth again and again, his steps light and quick.
The two of them worked with just the right amount of strength and efficiency, and before long, a small pile of harvested crops had accumulated at the edge of the field.
They had worked for less than half a shichen when the half mu of land was almost completely harvested.
Second Uncle wiped the sweat from his forehead and straightened up. Looking at the rather small pile of grain before him, he could not help sighing.
“Only this much. If Wanwan hadn’t received such a blessing, this winter would have been another difficult one.”
There was no complaint in his voice, only the complicated feeling of someone who had endured too many difficult years, someone who longed for better days but still did not quite dare to believe they had truly arrived.
Jiang Wanning straightened and planted her sickle into the ground.
“That won’t happen again. Once we return, we’ll go into the space and plant that patch of black soil. From then on, we’ll have enough to eat at every meal.”
Everyone immediately felt more energized.
By the time they carried the final bundle of crops back to the little courtyard, night had already begun to fall.
Scattered moonlight shone down, while the lingering aroma of the stewed meat still drifted through the courtyard. It was the scent of the meat they had eaten at noon, carried by the evening breeze as it lingered in the air, reluctant to fade.
The family gathered in the courtyard and looked at the harvested crops piled against the wall, and everyone felt a little more at ease.
Under the cover of night, Jiang Wanning carefully explained the rules of the space to her family once again.
“Whatever happens, not a single word about the space can be revealed to anyone outside the family.”
She lowered her voice until only the few people sitting around her could hear.
“Not even the relatives we are closest to in the clan can be told. If we take anything out, we’ll simply say that it was bestowed by the immortals.”
Grandmother was the first to grow serious. She struck her cane heavily against the ground with a dull thud.
“Wanwan is right.” Grandmother’s voice was not loud, but every word carried unquestionable weight. “The fact that we can enter space must stay buried inside us. No one is allowed to tell anyone. If anyone lets it slip, they’ll be putting the entire family in danger!”
Second Uncle, Second Aunt, Jiang Baizhou, and Jiang Wanxing all nodded solemnly and agreed.
In their hearts, Jiang Wanning was the family’s greatest source of support. Protecting her secret meant protecting the family’s path to survival.
After making sure everything had been arranged, Jiang Wanning quietly took several steamed white buns and a small dish of pickled vegetables from the space and placed them on the table.
“Have a little more to eat tonight and fill your stomachs,” she said. “After you leave the space, you need to wait six shichen before you can enter again and stay for another five shichen. Five shichen pass inside the space while only one shichen passes outside. Tomorrow morning, we’ll enter the space again and get to work. First, we’ll plant the crops.”
Seeing the soft white steamed buns, everyone was moved once again, though they no longer reacted as emotionally as they had at noon.
They were slowly beginning to accept the truth.
Their lives really were changing.
This was not a dream or an illusion. Their lives were truly improving, little by little, one day at a time.
Jiang Wanxing picked up a steamed bun and broke it in half, handing the larger piece to Grandmother.
Grandmother accepted it, took a bite, and chewed slowly. She chewed for a long time, as though savoring something incredibly precious.
Moonlight spilled across the courtyard, over the pile of freshly harvested crops, and across everyone’s shoulders. The night breeze drifted gently through the air, carrying the scent of soil and ripening grain.
No one spoke, yet everyone felt that tonight’s moon seemed brighter than it had ever been before.
There was still much work waiting for them tomorrow, so after they finished eating, everyone went to sleep early.