NOVPUB
Chapter 189: Chapter 182 Wheat is Ripe
Shen Yingxue’s prestigious marriage indeed caused a sensation in Gaijiatun. After Shen Dafu held the wedding banquet at home, Shen Yingxue followed Zhao Dahai back to the county. It was said that they would first stay at her mother-in-law’s place, waiting for their new house to be allocated before moving in on their own.
Shen Yunfeng, the eldest daughter of the Shen Family who married into the county, acted as the matchmaker and busied herself with the arrangements. When the couple returned for the wedding, she also stayed at her parents’ house for a week, showing how much she valued this man, Zhao Dahai.
However, she returned alone without her husband Xue Jialong, which sparked quite a bit of gossip in the village. The second grandmother made excuses, claiming that with the children being so young at home, one had to stay behind to look after them.
When Shen Yingxue and Zhao Dahai were to return to the county the day after the wedding banquet, Shen Yunfeng eagerly followed them once again.
On that day, several members of the Shen family escorted the trio to the entrance of the village and didn’t turn back home until the figures had vanished from sight. Their reluctant farewell was comparable to seeing off their own daughter and son-in-law.
These events entertained the villagers of Gaijiatun for quite some time. There was much talk that Shen Dafu’s son-in-law must be more capable than Shen Yunfeng’s, or else the eldest daughter of the Shen Family wouldn’t be so eager to ingratiate herself with him.
At first, Shen Yunfang herself gossiped with everyone for a few days. After all in such a small mountain village, there wasn’t much to talk about concerning the neighbors. The topic of her ’adopting a son-in-law’ had been the subject of conversation for half a year, but finally, the ’golden phoenix’ that flew out of their humble nest had supplanted her family’s topic, and naturally she was pleased. She was able to chat and laugh with others for a while. However, she soon stopped participating. After all, she had been a victim of rumors herself and thought it better to retain some decency. Moreover, the most important reason was that she had no time to gossip with others anymore, for the wheat on the mountain was ripe.
In order to seize those precious few days, Shen Yunfang had specially gone to ask Uncle Shen for time off, falsely claiming to be pregnant with severe morning sickness and needing a few days of good rest at home.
Uncle Shen didn’t approve of his niece’s delicate state, noting that the village had seen many pregnant women who didn’t show signs of discomfort until much later, with most working right up until childbirth. Some even gave birth right in the fields.
Shen Yunfang knew that her uncle wouldn’t approve, but she had no choice—the several acres of wheat on the mountain had to be harvested in these few days or else her hard work would go to waste. Weighing her options, she decided it was better to let Uncle Shen be angry for a while.
On this July day, early in the morning, Shen Yunfang finished up with the household chores, then snuck out the back door, climbing up towards the mountain.
The wheat on the hillside was ripe, a golden expanse that swayed in gentle breezes, rolling waves of wheat coming near from far. Looking at the vast wheat fields before her, Shen Yunfang couldn’t suppress the joy in her heart.
She walked into the wheat field, grabbed a bunch of wheat ears, and immediately felt that her hard work had not been in vain. None of the manure or water she’d toiled to apply was wasted—all the grains in her hand were plump, as if they were about to burst open.
After reveling in her happiness for a while, Shen Yunfang took a deep breath standing in the wheat field.
"Come on, only the last step of the twenty-thousand-li Long March is left. Let’s reap."
She bent down, gathered the wheat stalks with her left hand, and grasped the sickle with her right. The blade sank into the base of the wheat, and with a ’swish’, a sheaf of wheat fell neatly to the ground.
Shen Yunfang threw the wheat she held into the open space and then reached for another handful.
Gradually, as the sun climbed overhead, sweat ran freely down her forehead and neck. After bending over for hours, she gradually felt the sickle grow heavy in her hand, her legs leaden, and her bent back stiffened.
Thinking about the condition of her body, Shen Yunfang thought it would be best not to overexert herself. So, she straightened up, took off her straw hat to fan herself, and muttered, "What lousy weather, it’s so hot." Feeling sweat trickling down her neck and the itchiness that followed, she quickly wiped it away with the towel hanging around her neck. A morning’s work had left a series of bloody scratches on her delicate hands, and the sting when sweat came into contact with them was too much to bear.
She walked to the edge of the woods and found a shady spot to sit down. Yunfang took out a bottle of boiled water from her space and gulped it down. But even then, still feeling hot from the inside out, she reached into her space again and pulled out a plate of chilled watermelon. Just as she was about to bite into a slice, she remembered the little one in her belly and decided she couldn’t be so careless. So, she put the plate of chilled watermelon back into her space and took out a room-temperature one instead. With a few swift cuts of a knife, she sliced it into several wedges and started munching on one.
It was sweet and juicy—a bite was all it took to quench her thirst and cool her down.
After eating two pieces, Shen Yunfang dared not eat any more, putting the rest away. Watermelon was fine for pregnant women, but only in moderation.
After resting for a while, Shen Yunfang stood up and resumed her labor.
Given her current physical strength, she was remarkably efficient at work. And so, she toiled from dawn till dusk for three days before she finished harvesting all the wheat planted on the hillside.
Looking back at the stubble-covered ground, she felt a sense of satisfaction. At the same time, the phrase "Labor is the most glorious" sprang to mind.
Labor was tough, but without the hard work, there wouldn’t be white, plump steamed buns on the dining table. All the fatigue was worthwhile. 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓅𝓊𝓫.𝒸ℴ𝓶
Latterly, when she went up the mountain, she took advantage of the hottest part of the day to sun-dry the wheat from her space. In the meantime, she started picking up the remaining wheat ears. They were the fruit of her six months of hard work; she couldn’t bear to waste even a little bit.
During the breaks from drying the wheat, she cleaned up the wheat stubble in the field and planted cabbage, radishes, and mustard greens. Before the ground froze, she could harvest a crop of autumn vegetables.
In a few days, after she finished planting the vegetables and the wheat stalks and grains had dried out and become brittle, the grains would fall off with a little force. Seeing that it was about time, Shen Yunfang spread a plastic sheet on the hillside and began to thresh by hand.
At that time, wheat threshing was typically done by having oxen pull a stone roller over the grains or by beating them with a flail, commonly known as "threshing".
Shen Yunfang had no oxen, so she made do with having her sheep pull a stone roller back and forth. When one sheep wasn’t enough, she tied on a couple more. Given the abundance of sheep she had, she would rotate a few out after several hours when they became tired. Eventually, she completed this arduous task.
After repeated rolling, most of the wheat grains had separated from the stalks. She neatly bundled the cleaned wheat stalks and stored them in her space, knowing they could be useful later on for raising earthworms or making mushroom sticks.
Next, she began to manually thresh with a flail, and after several bouts of thrashing, those grains still clinging to the stalks obediently fell off.
Shen Yunfang spread all the wheat grains out on the plastic sheet and let them sun-dry for two more days. Then, she shoveled the dried grains into burlap sacks and stored them in her space. When she had the chance, she would mill these grains into white flour.
Although without specific measurements, she estimated that she had harvested about 3,200 pounds of wheat grains this year—enough to keep her supplied with steamed buns for several years.
That very afternoon, Shen Yunfang carried several dozen pounds of wheat grains to the production team. Taking advantage of the time when everyone else was off working, she ground the grains into flour. That evening, she steamed herself a pot of large steamed buns—fluffy and white, each bite filled with the delicate fragrance of the wheat, as if she had never tasted such delicious buns before.
