By mid-May, the wheat harvest in Li Family Village had just ended, and Yuan Si's personal dimension was basically empty of grain.
The reason was simple: this year's wheat harvest had been even more disastrous.
The old farmers knew what to expect from the fields. That was why during the New Year, few adults were smiling—only the children. Even for the festival, very few families were willing to eat a little extra, let alone eat well. Many could already see that the wheat harvest was not looking optimistic.
When the wheat was harvested in May, the situation was just as everyone had predicted. The yield was less than a third of what it used to be.
With so little, it was far from enough to meet the state grain quotas, to say nothing of the villagers' own rations.
Some people's faces clouded over at the sight of the wheat on the threshing ground. Others simply squatted down and began to sob.
