Mrs. Yang said hurriedly, "We can go gather them tomorrow. We don't have any free time right now, so we'll have to make some. We'll gather the mushrooms first, then we'll weed and harvest the wheat."
As they spoke, they finished transplanting another two rows of seedlings, and then it was time to stop for lunch.
Mrs. Yang and Zhang Huai climbed onto the ridge first. Qingmu, who was lagging behind, felt something slippery dart past his feet. On instinct, his hand shot down into the water, and he pulled out a large yellow eel.
When Zhang Huai saw it, he chuckled. "You could give Sanshun a run for his money now! Catching an eel just like that—you've really improved."
He then pulled up a few long, whisker-thin blades of grass from the edge of the ridge, threaded them through the eel's gills, and carried it over to Juhua.
