Looking out, the long-unseen green hue shimmering through the misty water was as intoxicating as a Monet painting.
The water hyacinths were so dense that a single scoop could yield dozens of pounds. The yacht encountered resistance, and its progress slowed.
Zhang Qingfang looked at the hyacinths on the water's surface and said with regret, "Sigh, this rain never stops. If the weather were just a little better, we could dry these and store them as animal feed."
Jiang Chengwu laughed. "There's so much of it right here. Why are you always thinking about making feed? Our chicks haven't even hatched yet."
Zhang Qingfang shot him a glare. "You never know what the future holds. The more we stockpile, the more secure we'll be."
"Besides," she continued, "our chicks are about to hatch, and we'll have even more later on. We might even raise ducks, cows, sheep, or pigs! They all eat so much—what doesn't need feed?"
