Time seemed to have hit the fast-forward button. In the blink of an eye, the autumn harvest arrived once again, and the fields were filled with golden rice, the stalks bent low under the weight of their grain.
It was a bumper crop this year, and the villagers’ faces were wreathed in smiles. Even the more sharp-tongued matrons in the village had softened; where they used to speak with thorns in their words, they were now much more restrained. They claimed it was a matter of accumulating virtue, and that Heaven was showing them extra favor this year, which was why the rice and other crops had flourished so well.
Those prone to bragging were, as always, glib-tongued, but everyone knew their usual ways and simply smiled, saying nothing. After all, with the harvest being so bountiful this year, it was not the time to quarrel with anyone; everyone was in good spirits and had no desire to be petty.
Chapter 230