Because the portions were generous, and they were doing farm work, the old lady was not stingy this time. She gave each person a large bowl of meat and vegetables, two steamed corn buns, and a sweet potato.
The old man had just picked up his bowl when he suddenly remembered something. "Qiao'er, have you eaten?"
"I already have."
As Su Qiao answered, she rolled up her trouser legs, picked up a sickle from the ground, and headed into the fields.
Seeing this, the old man froze. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to help you cut some. That way, we can finish the work in the fields sooner."
As she spoke, she walked toward the patch of wheat that was clearly lagging behind the others without even looking back.
It was obvious who that patch belonged to—her father and brother.
Neither of them could endure hardship. They worked slowly and sluggishly, and they were not very skilled at it either.
Second Uncle Su Huai'an hurriedly set down his bowl. "No, no. I'll cut it after I finish eating. Be careful of the wound on your hand."
The old man hurriedly added, "That's right, Qiao'er. Come back quickly. You don't need to cut it. Your grandpa and your second uncle will take care of it later."
Su Yaohui and his son, Su Yichen, felt somewhat embarrassed.
That patch was their father-and-son assignment.
They cut slowly and unevenly. They had originally thought that, since Second Brother and their father would come over to help anyway, they might as well slack off even more.
"It's fine. The wound is almost healed."
As she spoke, Su Qiao bent down and began cutting the wheat stalks.
Su Yaohui coughed twice. "Cough, cough. Let her be! She just thinks it looks fun."
The others agreed