"Mr. Yang!"
Seeing Yang Yong, Zhao Hu hurried to his feet and went over to meet him in a few quick strides.
"Look at this ear of corn. The kernels are so uniform!"
"Uncle He said that with more time, he could raise the breeding success rate even higher!"
"Good," Yang Yong said.
He glanced at the field.
The corn stalks still stood taller than a person, their leaves green tinged with yellow.
A dozen or so people were busy working, some picking ears, some filling baskets, and others clearing away stalks.
The few elderly, frail, women, and children among them worked slowly but diligently, their faces a little more alive.
Yang Yong pulled Zhao Hu aside and lowered his voice. "How long has it been... since Great-Grandmother Huang Shan came out to maintain the array patterns?"
Zhao Hu's smile froze.
"Huh? She... hardly ever comes out."
"How long since she last repaired them?"
Zhao Hu's eyes went blank. His lips moved, but no words came out.
"Th-three days? No. Half a month? Or..."
The more he spoke, the more confused he became. Finally, he gave a dry laugh. "Mr. Yang, I... I really haven't paid much attention to that."
Yang Yong asked no more.
He could tell Zhao Hu wasn't pretending.
The man really was trying hard to remember.
But his memories seemed to have been wiped with a cloth by something. The harder he tried to think back, the hazier they became.
Each attempt scattered them, leaving nothing.
That image of "Great-Grandmother Huang Shan maintaining the array patterns" seemed to lie behind a layer of water, impossible to see clearly.
Yang Yong patted Zhao Hu's shoulder, then turned and left.
His suspicions grew stronger.
If even someone like Zhao Hu, who had lived in the village for almost