In the blink of an eye, three days passed.
As the townsmen cultivated and planted for most of the day, Lynn stepped out of the farmland.
A gentle breeze blew over the still-uncultivated wasteland, causing the dry, yellow grass with specks of green to sway up and down.
The scent of soil and grass wafted into Lynn's nose.
It brought a sense of unexplainable comfort, and the sweat beading on his body was dried by the wind.
The efficiency of the townsmen kept improving, and by the time nearly ten thousand acres were cultivated and planted, it was already mid-March.
But, apart from the daily consumption of food for half a month within the territory, the barley seeds soaked in saltwater were about to run out.
There were at most two or three days left, and if merchants did not deliver large quantities of food, the cultivation efforts of five thousand townsmen would have to come to a halt!
Although Lynn was reluctant, there was nothing to do but wait in silence.
