As far as the eye can see, the most obsessive and intoxicating thing is still the wheat fields that have rolled up layers of golden waves.

On the slopes of the mountains, at the top of the ridges, on the banks of the ditches, on the plains, those that are embraced by dense trees, those that are supported by the dark soil, and those that are surrounded by those silver streams, are all patches of ripe wheat fields that seem to be broken. What the overwhelmed wheat straw desperately picked up were bunches of bloated and fat golden ears of wheat, along with sharp and sharp wheat mangs. Walking into it, you can hear a faint popping sound in the wheat field. If you want to listen carefully, there will be a wave of heat surging in all directions. It burns the skin, fascinates the eyes, blocks the breath, and unblocks the sweat glands.

At this time, I longed for a gust of mountain wind to fall from the sky to dispel the heat and exchange for a refreshing body with cool sleeves. Sure enough, the mountain breeze rose from the dense forests of the mountains in the distance, sliding through the thick shade, through the branches, and over the wheat fields, driving away the heat hidden in the wheat. Then, he swaggered and walked away. As a result, the fields were suddenly filled with undulating layers of wheat waves. Sometimes, if the waves are sparkling, ripples ripple and gently spread in the same direction. is like a soft invisible fingertip, carefully combing the delicate hair of the girl to be married, tender like water, and love. Sometimes, like a stormy wave, it roars from afar, carrying the majesty of "whoosh", setting off a golden wave that soars into the sky, tumbling and surging. Rushing in the face, dancing for a while, and then going away with a bang.

In the nearby wheat field, there were already figures swaying, and the voices of people were loud and audible. The dancing scythe slashed across the steamer-like ears of wheat, cutting away a few sparkling rays of sunlight and extinguishing the remaining light in an instant. Behind the flickering and extinguishing light lay a large thick field of wheat, along with a thick sheaf of wheat.

The Maosheng family's wheat fields are scattered. There are both on the slopes of the mountains and in the south rivers, but most of them are on the slopes. This is all due to the fact that when the lot was drawn to distribute the responsibility field, the xylophone was fighting for power with the then branch secretary Sour Xing. The fields of the sour apricots, Maolin and Zhenfu are mostly good and fertile, while the fields of the xylophone family are mostly thin and poor.

After the field was divided, Xylophone has been busy with the management of apricot forests, widening roads, and setting up factories, so he has not taken into account the re-pumping and adjustment, and his family has been cultivating these second- and third-grade fields. As for the extra population in the village, they are all drawn from the mobile land set aside in advance or from the land occupied by the deceased.

After Feng'er took over the management of village affairs, she repeatedly proposed to reallocate the fields. This is not only in line with the vital interests of the majority of villagers, but also in line with the reality of rational use of land. Xylophone, which had just taken a breath from the hard work of setting up the factory, finally agreed. Prepare to clean up the crops after the fall, and then re-allocate the land and divide the fields of responsibility.

Such news spread far and wide, and those who are still haunted by the bad luck of not catching good fields back then are still very happy. Especially Maosheng and others, they are looking forward to staying up until the end of autumn all day long, so that they can show their skills and grab a piece of fertile land for themselves again. Moreover, many villagers no longer work hard to transport soil and fertilizer to their fields. After the land is readjusted, I will apply fertilizer to the new land with all my might. Xylophone once laughed at Maosheng for being cautious, saying, if you keep so much fertilizer and don't use it, don't you want to ruin this year's harvest. Maosheng replied noncommittally, I have a number, don't worry about you, just take care of your own business.

In fact, when it comes to managing crops, xylophones are really not good at it. Of course, Maosheng knew what to expect. [End of Chapter]