Before the morning dew: An invitation from the soil

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the wooden lattice windows of the town's inn, Ah Yu's excited knocking rang out. "Get up quickly! Uncle Chen says the soil moisture is perfect for sowing in the early morning!" Her voice, as clear as morning dew, startled the sparrows pecking at the windowsill. The warmth of last night's bonfire conversation still lingered. Rubbing their sleepy eyes, they pushed open the door, only to be dispelled by the damp, earthy scent filling the courtyard—in the distance, on the ridges of the fields, Uncle Chen, a farmer wearing a straw hat, carried a bamboo manure basket on his back, his figure bathed in the bronze glow of the morning sun.

"Did you all bring handkerchiefs?" Uncle Chen's voice was rough yet gentle, like old tree bark. He squatted down, grabbed a handful of black soil, and a moist sheen immediately seeped from between his fingers. "Our soil is nourished by decaying leaves and river mud from the mountains; you could squeeze oil out of it." As he spoke, the terraced fields behind him stretched towards the distant mountains, and the morning mist flowed slowly among the rice stubble, like a crumpled piece of blue gauze. Lily couldn't help but squat down. The moment her fingertips touched the soil, a cool dampness spread along her fingertips, mixed with the sweet and pungent smell of wild grass and earthworms, making her subconsciously exclaim, "It's like...like touching something alive!"

Sowing: Spring at Your Fingertips

The work begins with separating the seedlings. Uncle Chen brings out a basket of vegetable seedlings freshly pulled from the seedling shed. Glistening dewdrops still cling to the tender green leaves, and damp clumps of soil surround the roots. "This is the local 'Dwarf Green,' with thick leaves that taste sweet when stir-fried," he explains. He demonstrates by digging shallow holes in the soft soil with a small shovel, then gently pressing the roots of the seedlings into the holes with his thumb and forefinger. "The roots need to be spread out, the soil loose, don't compact it too much, or the seedlings won't be able to breathe."

Ah Jie was the first to grab the shovel, but he used the wrong force when digging the hole, creating a deep pit and splashing mud all over his trouser leg. "Slow down," Uncle Chen said with a smile, taking the shovel and patting it down by the hole. "Farming isn't war; you have to negotiate with the land." Ah Jie scratched his head and chuckled, and his next shovel stroke was indeed much lighter. Xiao Wen, usually the quietest, handled the seedlings with unusual gentleness. She squatted on the edge of the field, placing each seedling into the hole as if it were fragile porcelain, carefully straightening any crooked leaves. Her bangs were stuck to her forehead with sweat, but she didn't seem to notice.

Ah Yu was in charge of transporting the vegetable seedlings. The bamboo basket swayed on her shoulder, but she walked quickly and steadily. As she passed Uncle Chen, she suddenly lowered her voice and asked, "Uncle, how long will it take for these seedlings to grow after they're planted?" Uncle Chen straightened up and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "Quickly," he replied. "After a rain, you'll see new leaves sprouting. If you come to see them every day, you can hear them growing." Ah Yu's eyes lit up, as if she could truly hear the soft sounds of life sprouting from the soil.

Watering: Whispers between Water and Soil

As noon approached, the sun grew increasingly scorching. Uncle Chen led everyone to the well by the field. The wooden bucket sank to the bottom with a muffled "thump," and when it was pulled up, fine water droplets condensed on the bucket's surface, the well water shimmering with a bluish light in the sunlight. "Watering has to be done at the right time," Uncle Chen said, handing over several gourd ladles. "Right now, the sun is strong, and the water is too cold; the seedlings will catch a cold if we water them. We have to wait until evening, or like now, and dilute it with some pond water that has been warmed by the sun."

Amin volunteered to fetch water from the pond, but he didn't notice the moss under his feet and nearly fell in. Lily quickly grabbed his arm, and the two burst into laughter. The splashed water landed on the pumpkin leaves beside them, rolling into glistening droplets. Xiaowen squatted by the well, dipping her fingertips into the well water, then into the pond water, muttering softly, "The well water is so cold, the pond water is definitely warmer." As she spoke, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the sycamore leaves, falling on her face, her eyelashes casting dappled shadows beneath her eyelids.

Watering requires more patience than sowing. Uncle Chen taught everyone to slowly pour water along the roots of the seedlings, allowing it to gradually seep into the soil, rather than splashing it all over. "Water and soil are old friends," he said, gently patting the soaked soil with the back of a ladle. "If you treat it gently, it will nourish the seedlings." Ah Yu followed his instructions, watching the clear water spread a dark brown ring on the soil and then be absorbed little by little. Suddenly, she felt that this scene was just like the way her mother slowly unfurled the rice grains in boiling water when she cooked porridge.

Weeding: A Game Against Time

The main task in the afternoon was weeding. Uncle Chen pointed to a few plants with slender leaves on the ridges of the field and said, "This is 'goosegrass.' Its roots are deep, so you have to pull the whole plant out, otherwise it will steal the nutrients from the vegetable seedlings in the blink of an eye." He casually pulled up a plant, and there were still a few white fibrous roots wrapped around the soil at the base. "See? It's like people fighting over food. If the weeds grow wildly, the vegetables won't survive."

At first, everyone was enthusiastic about identifying the weeds, but soon the aches and pains began to set in. Ah Jie squatted on the ground, sweat dripping from his forehead into the soil, making small dents. "How come there are more weeds than seedlings?" he muttered, casually picking up a plant with small purple flowers, only to be quickly stopped by Uncle Chen: "Hey, that's 'Veronica persica,' it's fine, don't pull the wrong one!" Ah Jie stuck out his tongue, becoming more cautious as he picked up the plant again.

Xiaowen, however, found enjoyment in weeding. She plucked a dandelion, blew gently, and the fluffy seeds were carried away by the wind, tracing silvery arcs against the blue sky. "Look!" she excitedly pointed to Ayu, sunlight dancing on her fingertips, "It's like blowing spring away." Ayu looked at the scattered seeds and suddenly thought of the lawns in the city park, where the grass was always neatly trimmed, nothing like the wild grass here, living so freely and unrestrained.

Sweat and Light: Medals of Labor

As the sun began to set, the entire vegetable garden was finally finished. Everyone sat awkwardly on the edge of the field, their clothes half-soaked with sweat, their faces and hands covered in mud. Amin took off his straw hat to fan himself, revealing a clear sweat stain on his forehead, like an invisible hat. Lily pulled out her small mirror and couldn't help but laugh, "I look like a little cat covered in dirt!" Xiaowen looked down at her hands; her fingertips were rough from prolonged contact with the soil, and black dirt was embedded in her fingernails, yet she felt that her hands had never felt so real and strong.

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