"We dug them from the mountains, and there's more. Your grandma and I are planning to go up the mountain again," Song Rong explained.
Lin Qiao's eyes lit up, and she praised, "Grandpa, you're so amazing!"
They had been to the mountains dozens of times, but they hadn't seen any wild yams.
"I learned while hunting in the past," Song Rong, a bit embarrassed by his granddaughter-in-law's praise, said.
It seemed that Song Tingfan's shyness was inherited, causing Lin Qiao to hold back a laugh. "Then I'll go to the mountain with you, Grandpa."
After grabbing hoes and baskets, they headed to the mountain. The spot for wild yams was a bit remote, no wonder no one knew about it.
But even if Lin Qiao got there, she doubted she could recognize the wild yams.
Song Rong clearly had a knack for digging wild yams. The roots ran deep; the one they were digging was already as high as a calf but hadn't reached the bottom yet.
