Melody Vance looked at her, because of years of farm work in the sun and wind, that delicate face was dark and red. For convenience during work, she didn't have the long hair typical of girls, but short hair instead.
She was thirteen, yet the questions she asked were ones that kids in urban kindergartens could easily answer.
At that time, Melody didn't ridicule her, just felt a pang of sadness.
What kind of place is this...
These children should have access to good education.
Flora Warren learned to speak Mandarin; this proved she had been carrying baskets on her back, cutting grass for cattle, and secretly coming here to listen and learn.
At that moment, she deeply understood the meaning of responsibility.
"We represent a group, and I represent myself."
After saying that, Melody worried she might not understand, so she repeated it in her hometown dialect.
Flora understood and quickly shouldered her basket full of grass, thanking her in her own dialect.
