Seeing the fear in Juhua's expression, Madam Yang chuckled. "Don't listen to your brother. Our fields are pretty safe. There's none of that nasty stuff here."
As she spoke, she finished planting the rice seedlings in her hand, rinsed her hands in the water, and climbed onto the embankment.
Juhua quickly called out to Qingmu, "Brother, come up and have some flatbread! I put meat in the filling."
Qingmu called back in acknowledgment and came up a moment later.
The mother and her children squatted on the embankment. Juhua poured tea for her mother and brother, then served them the flatbread in bowls with chopsticks.
Juhua looked at the adjacent paddy field—it was still a vast, watery expanse, not yet planted with seedlings. She turned and asked with a smile, "Whose field is this? How come they haven't planted their rice yet?"
