Farmhouse Green Plum

"She was only five years old at the time. She was staggering while holding the younger one in her arms, and she couldn't even walk steadily. But this girl was very careful. Even when she fell, she still protected her little cousin tightly, and she didn't let Song Yuan get hurt..."

The peddler looked at Daya carefully, and a look of realization appeared on his face: "Is she Song Fuping's daughter?"

"Do you know Fuping?" the village chief was surprised.

The peddler smiled and said, "My wife is from Wangjia Village. Her parents had a big affair back then, so we naturally know about it."

The village chief sighed, "Fu Ping has been honest all his life, but he repeatedly disobeyed his mother on matters concerning her and her daughter. He was determined to marry a sickly girl, and after much difficulty getting her pregnant, she died during childbirth, and the baby was a girl.

Old lady Li tried her best to persuade him to marry another girl to continue the family line, but he refused to listen, saying that he was worried that his stepmother would abuse his daughter. But he died, leaving behind only this girl, with no one to carry on the family line.

"Well, who says it's not true?" The peddler was also full of emotion. "Fortunately, this girl is sensible. I heard that she could wash clothes and cook at the age of five. Such a sensible little girl, pitiful! I remember she was born in the winter month. She must be nine years old this year, right?

Oh, her eyebrows and eyes look like her mother. Her mother was born beautiful and smart. If she wasn’t weak, the people who came to ask for marriage would have broken down the door..."

The peddler and the village chief chatted with each other, and from time to time they looked at Daya with pity.

Daya bit her lower lip in embarrassment, her body trembling slightly.

She had seen such looks too many times. Every time the villagers praised her for being sensible and capable, they would sigh about her miserable life and like to tell it to every stranger they met.

She felt that she was a local specialty of Xinghua Village, famous far and wide. Those she knew, those she didn't, those she had met once or twice, or those she had never met at all, all knew her miserable life story.

Moreover, today, besides being at a loss, she also felt endless fear for her life as an orphan.

Without taking a break, she took a deep breath and found an opportunity to interrupt: "Grandpa Village Chief, we're going back first."

After saying that, he quickly picked up the backpack, pulled Song Yuan with him, and walked towards the village as if escaping.

However, even if she used all her strength, she could not move the basket full of pine needles quickly, and the words of pity from the village chief and the peddler behind her kept drilling into her ears.

There was no one at home. Grandma and my second uncle and aunt were still harvesting rice in the fields, and Song Tian, who was herding cattle, had not returned home either.

She put the pine needles in the woodshed, took a bowl and poured water into it. She drank it until she felt full and then she felt her thirst was quenched.

Seeing that the last ray of light was about to set on the horizon, Daya hurriedly began to harvest the millet.

The millet was drying in the yard, and the ducks were in the silt fields by the river. Logically, she should have gone to drive the ducks back, but she was worried that the ducks would peck at the millet as they passed by.

If the ducks pecked more, they would have less to eat and would be scolded by their grandmother.

There is no other way, I can only go and drive the ducks in the dark later.

Even though Daya worked non-stop, it was still too late. The three Li family members came back before all the grains were put into the basket.

Uncle Song walked in front carrying two full baskets of rice, while Mrs. Li and Mrs. Yang each carried a large backpack.

Daya hurried forward and first helped Li put the backpack on the ground, and then went to help Yang.

As soon as the baskets were placed on the ground, the ground was quickly soaked. Looking at the three people again, their clothes were also completely wet, and it was unclear whether it was sweat or water from the millet.