Not only at Maggie’s household, similar scenes were unfolding in other homes throughout the village.
Some secretly speculated about how much inheritance Victor and his wife had left for the two brothers, some envied Lai Yi for having such good relatives, while others mocked Haggard for raising someone else’s children.
In short, there were many green-eyed monsters but few genuine well-wishers.
Brian was sharpening tools in his room while his wife Kelly sat by the window mending clothes.
“If Father has money to support Lai Yi’s family, why can’t he lend us some more?” Kelly asked casually.
“Father gives both our families living expenses every year. You shouldn’t say things like that.”
Kelly rolled her eyes, thinking about how little that money could actually accomplish. Every time Brian and Lis earned money, it always went to Haggard and his wife first – she couldn’t even buy decent gifts when visiting her parents during holidays.
“Sigh, if only we could separate from the family sooner.”
“Don’t say such things anymore.”
Brian sounded displeased, but he wasn’t the type to take out his frustrations on his wife. Picking up his tools, he opened the door and left the room.
He knew that the family’s prosperity was entirely due to his father and mother’s efforts. Once they separated, things would never be the same again, and he cherished this warm, extended family.
Kelly glared at her husband’s retreating back, convinced she hadn’t said anything wrong.
After marrying Brian, over a decade of comfortable living had made her forget the hardships she’d endured in her parental home.
Now she only remembered her parents’ kindness, not how they’d always prioritized her younger brother. She often secretly set aside things to send to her birth family.
It was only because of Brian’s good nature and other family members tolerating her for Brian’s sake that they didn’t make an issue of it.
Unfortunately, she failed to understand this, constantly urging Brian to separate early while resenting Linda for favoring her sister-in-law Fara.
She didn’t realize that Linda had treated both daughters-in-law equally during the first few years, even giving Kelly priority when good things came along. But human hearts respond to genuine affection – since Kelly had never truly embraced this family, Linda’s attitude toward her naturally cooled.
Meanwhile, the wheat in the fields had reached maturity.
This year’s crop was exceptionally good, with large, full ears promising a bountiful harvest. Every household eagerly anticipated the wheat ripening.
Despite this, they couldn’t afford to be careless.
If rain came after the wheat matured, a year’s hard work would be wasted. People visited the fields daily to monitor the wheat’s progress.
Thus time passed amid the villagers’ anticipation.
The cart had been completed these past few days. Lai Yi first took the young beast to collect the harness and other tack.
The harness maker was highly skilled. Since Lai Yi paid in full without asking for credit, the craftsman threw in an extra bell and a sturdy hemp rope.
The bell hung around the young beast’s neck provided excellent identification – its jingling while walking helped prevent loss.
Though the young beast appeared large, it wasn’t yet a fully grown Delrastoen Beast, so the harness hung somewhat loose. The craftsman made some on-site adjustments, tightening the harness until it fit perfectly.
Then Lai Yi went to collect the cart.
The cart was made from a special lightweight wood. This type of timber was light yet sufficiently tough and sturdy.
Most vehicles in this area were constructed from this wood to allow livestock to haul heavier loads.
The Delrastoen Beast possessed excellent load-bearing capacity. The young beast initially seemed unaccustomed to pulling the cart, but after trotting a few laps, it adapted to the weight.
On the journey home, Lai Yi drove the cart back.
However, the young beast grew somewhat excited, galloping cheerfully along the way and jolting Neil so violently he nearly vomited up his previous night’s meal.
This behavior of the young beast was quite problematic. If it continued like this while transporting fragile fruits and vegetables in the future, it would cause significant issues. It still needed further training before it could be trusted with cargo duties.
Lai Yi had largely stopped selling Mung Bean Soup, as the wheat harvest season was approaching—the most critical event of the year for the village. Even tunnel construction work would halt, with everyone given leave to return home and gather the wheat.
Guge’s grapes would be collected by buyers from the town, so he didn’t need to deliver them himself.
Overwhelmed with work alone, Lai Yi and Neil helped pick grapes for several days, enjoying plenty of freshly harvested grapes in the process. Old Guge didn’t restrict their consumption, but the two conscientiously selected only those grapes that were too imperfect to sell.
During any spare time, Lai Yi would drive the cart into the forest to chop trees, hauling the wood back to split into firewood for future use.
Lai Yi had a temperament that couldn’t bear idleness.
After the autumn harvest came winter, when the cold weather would require burning large amounts of firewood for warmth.
Although the current stock of firewood at home was more than enough for daily cooking, he still wanted to prepare extra wood in advance, just in case.
His days were filled with either felling trees, chopping firewood, or assisting Old Guge with various tasks. And so, the wheat in the fields finally ripened entirely.
The wind swept through, stirring golden waves of wheat, their fragrance attracting flocks of sparrows and wild birds. All villages entered the bustling autumn harvest period.
Lai Yi woke early each morning and joined the large team working in the fields.
Initially lacking experience in cutting wheat, he worked very slowly.
But by observing others and gradually honing his movements, his pace quickened. Eventually, he could even match the speed of an adult accustomed to year-round farm labor.
Sickles danced through the wheat fields, producing a pleasant swishing sound—the rhythm of harvesting, the melody of reaping.
Lai Yi would first cut two handfuls of wheat, twisting them together to form a “rope,” then place the cut wheat on top and bind it with this “rope.” Once tied, the sheaves stood upright with the wheat heads facing upward.
Neil followed behind Lai Yi, carrying a large basket to gather any dropped wheat heads.
The efficiency was still somewhat low with one person both cutting and bundling.
Later, they switched methods: Lai Yi would cut the wheat and arrange it into neat piles, then bundle them all at the end. This approach saved considerable time, and Neil could help with the bundling too.
Neil had wanted to cut wheat alongside Lai Yi, but Lai Yi refused, fearing he might accidentally cut his own leg. Instead, Neil took on the responsibilities of preparing lunch and delivering water.
They worked from morning until noon, took a brief rest after lunch, then resumed cutting wheat until dinner time before heading home.
After just one day of such labor, Lai Yi fully comprehended the hardships of farming.
It wasn’t only the exhaustion of cutting wheat but also the scorching sun. When temperatures rose, one could sweat profusely after less than half an hour of work.
Lai Yi had fair skin that didn’t tan easily but was prone to sunburn.
His skin would turn bright red first, then soon after begin to peel. Though not a serious issue, it looked alarming. Neil would become overly anxious whenever he saw it.
Therefore, while harvesting wheat, Lai Yi dared not expose his arms – partly to avoid sunburn, and partly because the wheat awns prickled intensely, affecting his efficiency.
Before long, his shirt would be soaked through with sweat. Continuing like this, heatstroke would be the least of his worries.
When Neil returned to prepare their meal, Lai Yi specifically instructed him to add some sugar and salt to the water they’d bring back, to help replenish electrolytes.
They ate lunch together in the field.
Lai Yi had prepped the side dishes before leaving in the morning. Neil simply needed to start the fire and stir-fry them before making the flatbreads.
He rolled palm-sized oil cakes with stir-fried shredded meat, potato shreds, some spring onions and cilantro – each small wrap was quickly assembled.
They ate with great relish.
Other villagers typically had bread and vegetables for their meals, with better-off families bringing an extra jar of meat stewed with greens. Of course, none could compare with Lai Yi’s meat-filled wraps.
The glossy wraps stuffed with shredded meat attracted many envious glances when unpacked. People had never seen flatbreads made so thin yet so resilient.
Lai Yi ate four wraps before feeling full, while Neil stopped after two.
“Had enough? Have one more – dinner will be late tonight.”
“Then I’ll have another.”
Hearing this, Neil rolled another wrap without any meat inside.
Since Lai Yi was doing heavier work and more of it, Neil wanted to save all the meat for his brother.
After lunch, Lai Yi crunched on a raw cucumber.
The cucumbers were beginning to mature now, not as crisp, tender, and sweet as when first harvested. Though thicker-fleshed, they still provided some hydration.
There was no need to rush pulling up cucumber vines even as the fruits aged. Letting them grow until the skins turned completely earth-yellow before harvesting preserved them best.
After peeling the mature cucumbers, the flesh could be used for aged cucumber soup or tossed with spring onions and salt as a cold dish.
The distinctive sourness of aged cucumbers gave the soup a unique flavor that vinegar couldn’t replicate. Moreover, aged cucumbers helped reduce cholesterol and lower blood sugar.
Back in modern times, Lai Yi’s grandmother would make him aged cucumber meatball soup every year. Unfortunately, after moving to the city for work, he could never find properly aged cucumbers again.
This sour taste truly carried the memories of Lai Yi’s childhood.
After resting post-lunch, they began another round of work.
Lai Yi swung his sickle vigorously while Neil spent the afternoon bundling wheat and gathering fallen ears. Though just two people, they managed to complete nearly half of this field’s work.
Tomorrow after finishing this field, they could haul the harvest home for drying in the afternoon. Then they’d move on to the next field for more reaping and gathering.
Though autumn harvest was exhausting, everyone’s face glowed with the joy of bounty.
After five or six days of working from dawn till dusk, Lai Yi finally finished harvesting over half of his wheat.
Households with more manpower had already completed their harvesting and borrowed the village threshing ground for next steps.
The Haggard family had mostly finished their harvest too. Haggard sent their most capable worker, Brian, to help Lai Yi with the autumn harvest – asking no payment, though Lai Yi would provide lunch.
Spring rolls, cold noodles, mouth-watering chicken, fruit toast, and savory flower buns.
Lai Yi prepared in advance whatever could be made ahead of time. Other ingredients and side dishes were also prepped beforehand, so Neil only needed to carefully follow Lai Yi’s instructions.
Although Neil’s cooking skills were somewhat lacking, Brian still ate with great relish.
“I finally understand why Ram always likes to come to your place,” Brian said with a laugh, taking a bite that consumed half of a flower bun.
In less than three days, Brian and Lai Yi had harvested all the wheat. This was just the first step of the autumn harvest, with many other tasks still to be busy with.
Fortunately, the weather had been cooperative, with continuous sunny days and no rain.
Gradually, every household finished harvesting their wheat, leaving only children and elderly people in the fields gathering the remaining wheat ears.