Jas rose early, arriving at the fields an hour ahead of schedule, fearing that the dignitaries might have advanced the ti, potentially leading to his untily demise for being late.
Fortunately, his concerns were unfounded. However, he was not alone in his fears; nurous farrs, clutching boxes, stood, squatted, or sat by the fields, looking lost, helpless, or contemplative, awaiting the arrival of the city lord's envoy.
Laurel arrived early as well. Jas approached him, box in hand, and squatted beside him. "Laurel, have you deciphered the diagram inside?"
"More or less," Laurel replied, holding his box without apparent nervousness.
"And what does the diagram indicate?" Jas inquired.
"What else could it an? After applying it once, wait seven days, harvest the wheat, then apply it again," Laurel explained.
"But how can wheat mature in just seven days?" Jas asked, puzzled.
Laurel, the robust, wild, short far, looked at Jas as if he were a fool. "It ans the potion's effect is to make the wheat mature in seven days. Are you fucking daft? Isn't that goddamn obvious?"
Jas was stunned for a few seconds before exclaiming in disbelief, "Really?!"
His voice, young and vibrant, beca high-pitched and distorted, reflecting his tumultuous emotions.
Other farrs turned their gaze towards him, causing him to awkwardly touch his head, unable to contain his excitent, he continued to press Laurel for confirmation, "Laurel, is it really so? Can it truly—"
"Shut up, you're too damn loud," Laurel snapped irritably, indicative of the fact that, just like there are simple and pure farrs like Jas, there are also coarse and fierce ones… in greater numbers, "Don't bother , we're not that close."
"... Ah, okay," Jas could only respond awkwardly, then respectfully distanced himself from Laurel.
He was puzzled; they had chatted quite a bit yesterday and on the way here, and Laurel hadn't been so impatient. It was only when the box was ntioned that Laurel beca noticeably upset.
An hour passed quickly for the farrs, and the city lord's representative arrived on ti. He observed the scattered farrs across the vast fields, neither posturing nor wasting words, which the farrs found astonishing.
"You all should have seen the diagram yesterday. Today, I'll explain it again. Take out the potion," the dignitary commanded, and the farrs hurriedly complied, extracting the potion from their boxes.
"Return to your assigned fields and open the lid," he instructed.
Jas quickly went to his field and did as told, seeing the button indicated on the diagram upon opening the lid.
"Point it at the field and press the button firmly until the potion stops flowing," he continued.
Laurel didn't move but observed others. When he saw the first person to press the button had the liquid level in their potion bottle drop by a third and stop flowing, he then pressed his button.
"It's simple enough, rember it," the man representing city lord Leonard stated emotionlessly, "In seven days, at the sa ti, after you've harvested the crops, repeat the process."
"Rember, the second ti, repeat the process exactly, no more, no less."
"Go ahead and sow now. Water as you usually would every day, no need for fertilization. And... this farmland is yours to own, the crops as well, you don't have to submit them. Lord Leonard does not require your submission."
After finishing, the man left, showing no desire to stay any longer with the farrs.
Jas stood transfixed, gazing at the man's retreating figure for several seconds before murmuring in disbelief, "Does this an, does this an... in seven days, the wheat can truly go mature?"
"Laurel, what you said is true—"
Just as he was about to excitedly call out to Laurel, he noticed that she had already shouldered her hoe and started to toil with a grunt.
Jas looked down at the soil beneath his feet, unable to discern any change after the application of the potion, but since things had co to this point, what else could he do but cultivate and sow?
Ignited with passion, Jas threw himself wholeheartedly into the farm work, thinking... if it were truly possible to harvest a crop of wheat in seven days, if he could control the yield...
Even hands that wouldn't tire after hundreds of hoe swings, now just beginning to labor, started to tremble.
Jas' lips quivered as the sound of his heartbeat echoed through his throat and bones, resounding in his mind.
His family was not poor, but they lived a life of re subsistence. Generations of farming had not accumulated any wealth for his lineage, and more arduous work had not led to increased compensation. Instead, taxes depended solely on the whims of the current lord. If it weren't for the sowhat visionary and capable Count Watson of this generation, Jas' life would be much harder.
But if he had this piece of farmland...
Could he not buy a better pipe for his father, a brand-new coat for his elder brother, and perhaps... perhaps even a pair of pretty shoes for Susan?
The young man gripped his hoe tightly, feeling an endless surge of strength within him.
His eyes shone brightly, as if harboring a brilliant and undying hope.
*
For these expert farrs, summoned from all over the Watson domain by the Count, completing the sowing in a single day was a trivial task. Filled with hope, Jas even considered cultivating another plot of land.
However, he dared not overstep his bounds. After the sowing and watering were done, he could only leave the field, looking back every three steps.
Today, he arrived at the calculated ti for the second watering, only to find soone had already arrived early, squatting at the edge of the field.
"...Laurel?"
Jas paused, then approached with joy to greet her, "Laurel! How is your plot? Laurel... Laurel?"
Receiving no response, Jas was puzzled and then realized that she seed reluctant to communicate with him, so he resignedly headed towards his own cultivated land.
And as he walked... Jas understood why Laurel was silent and squatting there like a statue.
-->
Reviews
All reviews (0)