"Bah! Unfilial son, heartless thing!" Old Mrs. Song wanted to open the second son's head to see what had happened to him.
Boss Song's face darkened. "Second brother is too heartless. We are all family. There is no such thing as overnight hatred."
"Tsk tsk... You're so shameless! Why didn't you just say we were family when you were bullying Daya and her daughter? Now you're thinking we're family?!"
"They're so partial to the second brother that they point their fingers at him and bully his family. No wonder the second brother and his wife want to separate the family."
.....
After eating and drinking, the busy harvesting began again in the fields. Even children of four or five years old carried baskets and followed the older children to pick up the leftover grain in the fields.
Because the amount was small, the children did not have to hand in the scraps they picked up to the government, but could take them home, which was a disguised way of supplementing their family income.
Therefore, the children were very active and picked up the trash very carefully.
"Xiaowu, come here quickly~" Si Ya ran very fast and picked up a big ear of wheat first with her sharp eyes.
"Here I come~" Wu Ya ran very fast with a small basket on her shoulder, and the little bun on her head swayed back and forth.
....
As the rumbling sound of the tractor echoed throughout the threshing grounds and fields, the sky gradually darkened.
The threshing ground was bustling with people and dust, and threshing was in full swing.
Song Guoliang also joined the team in the rush to harvest. Under the dim firelight, the muscles in his arms were clearly visible, and he was threshing the grain skillfully.
The fire in the threshing ground continued to burn until nine o'clock, when the brigade members finished their work and dragged their tired bodies back.
When the couple returned home, the children were already asleep and the house was dark and quiet.
Song Guoliang scooped out the steaming hot water from the stove and filled a basin with it for washing feet. "Wife, wash your feet first."
"Yeah." Du Xiaoying washed her face quickly, sat on the kang in a daze to wash her feet, and her eyelids began to droop.
"Wife, you——"
When Song Guoliang came in, he noticed that his wife was so tired that she was half asleep leaning against the kang. He quietly put down the warm basin in his hand.
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