Zhou Yanjing heard her complaints, turned his head to look at her, and raised the corners of his mouth slightly, "Take your time, don't rush. You'll get used to it."

He paused, his eyes fell on her sunburned cheeks, and said gently, "If you feel uncomfortable, just rest under the shade of the tree for a while."

Shen Liwu shook his head and held the sickle tightly stubbornly, "No, I can do it. It's just a little itchy."

When Zhou Yanjing heard this, he hurried over to check. There was a large red spot on her neck. He frowned and helped her sit down under the tree.

"I told you to just watch from the side, but you insisted on coming with me. You feel itchy, don't you? Just sit here obediently."

There was a hint of blame in Zhou Yanjing's voice, but more of it was heartache. He squatted in front of Shen Liwu, carefully examined the rash on her neck, touched it lightly with his fingers, and frowned even more tightly.

"You're being irritated by the fuzz of the corn leaves. That's what happens to people with sensitive skin."

Shen Liwu shrank her neck and pouted her lips a little aggrievedly, “I didn’t know it would be so itchy…” Her voice was low, with a hint of coquettishness.

Zhou Yanjing shook his head helplessly, stood up and walked towards the kettle by the field. He took off the vest he was wearing, poured some water on the clothes, then turned back and gently put the wet clothes on her neck.

"Apply it like this for a while, it will give you some relief."

Shen Liwu felt the coolness coming from her neck and immediately felt a lot more comfortable, her eyes narrowed slightly, like a lazy cat.

"Thank you..."

Zhou Yanjing looked at her like this, and a smile rose unconsciously on his lips. He stretched out his hand and scratched the tip of her nose, "You, always make me worry."

"Why don't I make people worry less?" Shen Liwu grumbled unconvinced, but his eyes were full of smiles.

Zhou Yanjing smiled but said nothing. He just picked up the sickle again and continued to work. His movements were quick and decisive, and in a short while he had chopped down the remaining rows of corn stalks.

Shen Liwu sat in the shade of the tree, holding her chin, watching his busy back in the fields, a warm feeling welled up in her heart.

"Please walk faster. If you keep walking at this speed, it will be dark before we get home. If you don't walk faster, I will walk by myself."

There were curses coming from the path. Shen Liwu looked over and saw a pregnant woman and a man, each carrying a large bag of corn. The woman's belly was about eight or nine months pregnant, and it looked like she was about to give birth.

Shen Liwu's eyes were involuntarily attracted to the pregnant woman. Seeing her carrying such a big belly and heavy corn, her heart couldn't help but tighten.

"I can't walk. Please pull me along."

"Bah, I'm exhausted myself, whoever wants to pull me can pull me, isn't it just that you're pregnant? Why are you being so hypocritical? Every pregnant wife has to work and carry corn every day, but you can't walk because you're pregnant, and you complain about the weight and the tiredness. If I had known you were so incapable of work, I shouldn't have married you, you freeloader."

The man's voice was sharp and piercing, mixed with impatience and disgust, and it cut into the woman's heart like a knife.

The woman lowered her head, bit her lips and said nothing. The weight of the corn on her back made it almost impossible for her to breathe. Her steps became slower and slower, and sweat dripped down her cheeks onto the soil, soaking it all.

Shen Liwu’s heart sank suddenly, and his brows furrowed tightly.