Chapter 88: Wanting to Run Away
With so much land, how long would it take to turn the soil by hand?
Standing by the fields, Wen Xiuyi already regretted his decision. Was it still in time to go back to the dock?
“What are you standing there for? Get to work!” Old Wen kicked him lightly, clearly disappointed.
Wen Xiuyi pointed at the vast land. “Father, how long will this take if we rely on ourselves?”
“With so many people, a few days will do,” Old Wen replied calmly.
Wen Xiuyi fell silent. By the time they finished, he might be crippled.
Still unwilling to give up, he asked, “Isn’t there an easier way?”
Old Wen eyed him suspiciously. “Trying to slack off?”
“No, no! I just think this is too much land to dig one hoe at a time.”
Old Wen patiently explained that generations had always farmed this way and urged him to start before Luo Shi came and scolded him. At the mention of her name, Wen Xiuyi obediently picked up his hoe and went to work.
In reality, the real laborers were only the older couple, the three brothers, their wives, and two boys aged twelve and ten. The girls handled lighter tasks—shaking soil from wheat roots and breaking clods. Datou and Wen Ying mostly ran around playing.
Although Wen Xiuyi had gained some strength at the docks, after digging a quarter of a mu, he felt his arms were about to fall off. At that moment, he desperately missed modern agricultural machines.
To the elders’ surprise, he had already worked longer than expected. Wen Xiuzhu kindly told him to rest, but seeing everyone working hard—even the children—Wen Xiuyi forced himself to continue. His hands were already numb.
Wen Yao followed behind, gathering roots and breaking soil. “Professor Wen, how does it feel? Experiencing the hardships of labor?”
“My arms are fine. Are you okay?”
“My back is breaking,” she sighed. They had to adapt to this life.
He sighed deeply. “I’ll figure out a better way. We can’t rely on manpower forever.”
Her eyes lit up. “You have an idea?”
“We used machines. Even earlier generations had oxen and tools. Farming didn’t have to be this hard.”
“Then let’s recreate those tools,” she said excitedly.
He nodded. “We’ll discuss it tonight.”
They worked until exhaustion, pausing only when Datou brought water bigger than his head. By noon, Luo Shi took Wen Yao home to cook, clearly out of concern.
They made meat pancakes and vegetable cakes and ate together on the field ridges. By sunset, they had only finished a little over one mu.
Back home, Wen Xiuyi collapsed into a chair, unable to move. Though Luo Shi scolded him, she heated water and gave him hot compresses for his sore arms.
Dinner was unusually lavish—rice, shredded pork, braised dishes, and vegetables. In the past, two meat dishes on one table were unimaginable, even during New Year.
