Lin Lan bent over, swinging her sickle nonstop. The serrated rice leaves brushed against her arms and the backs of her hands, leaving red lines on her fair skin and face that were startling to see.
Lin Guoliang scooped the threshed grain from the tub into carrying baskets. Then he and Li Xiangyang hoisted them onto their shoulders with poles and started back.
The group dragged the threshing tub forward a section. Zhou Dashan said to Lin Lan, "Little Lan, go with Xiangyang to carry the grain back and spread it out to dry."
"I don't know how to dry grain," Lin Lan said to Wu Shufang with a smile. "Auntie, you should go back and take a look."
The autumn sun was always harsh and scorching. Her aunt and two cousins-in-law had come to help with the harvest, and as the host, it wouldn't look right for her to slack off instead of working hard.
Wu Shufang smiled. "Lin Hong and Little Jun are there. We'll head back after we finish reaping this field."
