The myth begins with the Lotus Lantern

Chapter 173 Autumn Harvest
The sunset is brilliant. Under a small hill shaped like a lying cow, there are stretches of villages. A breeze blows by, and a field of golden wheat waves rise and fall in the sunset, shining brightly.

A beautiful pastoral scenery.

But it is not leisurely at all. Farmers are busy working hard in the fields.

It was the busy farming season. Regardless of gender, age or status, the whole family would work together to get food for the coming year. The old men and women worked hard to harvest with sickles, and then twisted hemp ropes into targets taller than a person. The men carried them on shoulder poles, and the heavy weight bent their heads and waists.

The children were not idle either. They ran in groups of three or two among the harvested fields, carrying baskets bigger than themselves on their backs. They picked up the scattered ears of wheat and threw them into the baskets. They were the carefree children of this age. Bursts of laughter rang out in the fields and wilderness, like a group of cheerful larks. This was the joy of the harvest that they had waited for a year's hard work.

There was a rich man who drove an ox cart and stacked the handles neatly on the cart. Then, under the envious eyes of everyone, he leaned on the cart with his whole body sunk into the haystack. He was reluctant to give up riding the ox as it was his life.

"Snapped!"

The whip flowers are loud and triumphant.

With an old ox transporting grain, people are indeed much more relaxed.

The freshly cut wheat stalks exude a fresh fragrance, and the tips of the ears are still a little green and yellow. In fact, the wheat is only 90% ripe, but if the crops are not harvested while the weather is sunny these days, the wheat ears will suffer even greater losses when the heavy rain falls in a few days.

Autumn is the most changeable season. Since humans make a living by farming, they naturally have their own survival wisdom and can roughly judge the weather trends in the next few days.

There is a sparse smoke in the village. Don't get me wrong, the sparse here does not describe the shape of the smoke, but the quantity. If it were normal, people would have probably eaten dinner by this time of year, but since they are busy harvesting, of course they will not miss any time of the day, and no one will go back until it is dark and can no longer be seen.

Only those who are too old to work at home will light the fire and prepare dinner in advance.

Most families have to wait until dark before they can start cooking. It is indeed hard work, but that's life. There will always be hard work and busyness. Besides, there are only a few days like these in a year, so you can overcome them and it will get through.

In this way, the figure walking back against the sunlight on the ridge of the field became particularly eye-catching.

"Erlang, you're going back so early. Why don't you work a little longer?" An old lady raised her head from between the crops, took a sip of water from the bamboo tube hanging on her body, wiped the sweat off her face, straightened up with difficulty, and took a short rest with her hands on her hips.

"My mother is waiting for me to go back and cook."

Erlang is, naturally, the Cowherd. People in the countryside are not so particular about names and they give names very casually. His family name is Niu and he has an older brother, the second child. When he was a child, he was called Niu'er by his nickname, but now he has grown up and separated from his brother, married and had children, and set up his own household. Naturally, this nickname is no longer appropriate, so the neighbors changed it to call him Erlang.

"Jin'er, Yin'er, we're going home."

The cowherd called again, there was a boy and a girl in the field, the two children agreed, although they were a little reluctant, but still sensibly said goodbye to their companions, then carried the baskets and ran over like flying, the cowherd caught them one by one, stretched out his big hands, and caressed their heads lovingly. In the sunset, the shadows of the one big and two small were stretched very long.

As soon as Niulang walked away, discussions began to arise.

"This kid, old man Niu has been tough all his life, how could he give birth to such a kid, hey, his wife," an old man raised his head, puzzled on his wrinkled face, and shook his head as he spoke. "The woman doesn't do the work, and her husband has to serve her again when he comes home after a tiring day outside, what a shame!"

"Uncle San, don't talk nonsense. My second brother is just protecting his wife."

A sturdy, shirtless young man rolled the straw into a rope. Although he was young, his hands were extremely rough. He stroked the straw stems with his big hands, not paying any attention to the small burrs on them. He twisted them a few times and a simple rope was made. He used his knees to press the haystack down. His muscles were tense, dark and shiny, shining in the sun, and he tied the haystack with the rope.

"I don't know what good fortune my second brother has, to be able to marry a beauty like my second sister-in-law. The fairies in the sky are no better than this. If I could marry such a beautiful wife, I would be willing to live thirty years less, not to mention going home to cook!"

"What do little kids know!" Another middle-aged woman took over the conversation. "No matter how beautiful your wife is, if she doesn't want to work, what's the point? You can't live on that. If you marry a wife, you have to marry a virtuous one. Look at your sister-in-law. She works in the fields, cooks, and runs the house. When has she ever been late for work? Erlang's family is like that," she pouted, showing disgust on her face, "I don't want her to be my daughter-in-law for nothing!"

Her daughter-in-law was right beside her. She said nothing when she heard this, but just lowered her head to cut wheat. Her dark hair hung down, and only occasionally half of her face was revealed as she moved. The wind and sun had long since made her face lose its beauty, and her skin became rough. Only the occasional emotions in her eyes gave her a glimpse of youth.

"Erlang's life is indeed very tiring. After we all go back, he will probably come to the fields to work alone in the dark. It will be very tiring. He is not afraid of wild animals in the middle of the night!"

Beside the ridge of the field, a man was bending over and struggling to carry a load that was several times taller than him. When he heard his mother praising his wife, he raised his head, grinned proudly, revealing two withered yellow front teeth.

"I don't know where Erlang found such a woman. She acts like a young lady in the city. They have been married for several years and have two children. She still doesn't know how to work. Erlang is so tired, but she doesn't feel sorry for him at all? Erlang is just relying on his youth and body to hold on. How many years can he hold on like this? She doesn't even think about the future. If Erlang collapses from exhaustion, what will happen to the two children?"

"Selfish, just caring about the present happiness!"

"She used to take care of the two babies sometimes, but now she doesn't even take care of them. I heard from Erlang that she seems to be sick. What's wrong with her? She can't even take care of the babies?"

"It's just a hypocritical disease!"

"Erlang is also suffering!"

There was a burst of chatter in the wheat field. The sisters-in-law were chattering like sparrows in the field. Once they found a topic, they could talk for a long time, one after another, and were unwilling to stop for a moment.

The men all shut their mouths early, with their wives' chattering lingering in their ears. They wiped their faces and then worked in silence.

(End of this chapter)