Author: Potato Sweet Potato Pie

At night, Xia Yuan was lying in front of the table, using the light of the candlelight to brush through the dots of writing. Another page was densely written. He was just about to pick up a new piece of white paper when the door creaked open.

There was a small crack, and the slight movement in the silence made him turn his head subconsciously.

Then the door opened wide and Zhao Yuerong's little head poked in. His face turned red when he saw Xia Yuan.

It was too hot in the summer. There was no air conditioning or fan, and there were candles lighting nearby. In order to cool down, Xia Yuan took off his clothes and sat there shirtless, leaving only a pair of white trousers and trouser legs.

He was also held high by his arm.

After staring for a few times, Zhao Yuerong blushed and looked away, then took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped in, holding a piece of newly sewn clothes in his arms.

A scholar's robe, a wide robe with large sleeves, is called a straight robe. The fabric is made of the same pieces of cloth that Xia Yuan bought in the capital.

"Husband, I made these based on your old clothes. You can put them on to see if they fit you. If they don't, I'll change them."

"good."

Xia Yuan was not polite. He took the clothes and put them on directly. They were made according to the size of the old clothes. The size was neither too big nor too small, just right.

Zhao Yuerong walked around Xia Yuan a few times, then stood on tiptoe to look at Xia Yuan's shoulders. He found that there was nothing inappropriate. His little face suddenly became happy. He would strengthen the stitches tomorrow and then he could wear them.

Already.

"Have you made yourself new clothes?"

"I don't."

"stop."

Xia Yuan waved his hand and made a pause gesture. When Zhao Yuerong opened his mouth, he knew exactly what this girl was going to say.

It must be that I don't need it, or that I don't use it, anyway, it's just excuses like this.

After thinking for a while, he asked: "I am your husband, should you listen to me?"

Upon hearing this, the little girl quickly said seriously: "Well, listen to your husband."

"Then you make yourself one, no, two new sets of clothes tomorrow. I will check them then, do you hear me?"

After hesitating for a moment, Zhao Yuerong nodded lightly, "Yes."

Only then was Xia Yuan satisfied. He just picked up the brush and said worriedly, "By the way, the new clothes should be made more beautiful. Don't use leftover materials to make patchwork clothes."

He suspected that if he didn't say this, the girl would definitely use the leftover scraps to make her a new, mended dress.

"Okay, if nothing happens, go back to your room and go to sleep."

To put it bluntly, Xia Yuan was not in a hurry to take off his clothes, dipped his brush in ink, and was about to write, when suddenly a small hand grabbed his cuff.

"Husband."

"Huh?" Xia Yuan turned around in confusion, "Is there anything else?"

Zhao Yuerong opened his mouth, facing Xia Yuan's probing eyes, his face started to turn red again, he lowered his head and twisted for a long time, and finally summoned up the courage to ask in a low voice: "Where will your husband sleep tonight?"

"Just sleep here."

"oh"

The little girl said softly, her hands still tightly holding Xia Yuan's cuffs without letting go, as if she still had something to say, but she hesitated.

Seeing her squeaking, Xia Yuan understood very well what this little girl meant. Unfortunately,

His eyes swept over her flat, flat little breasts, and Xia Yuan said with some regret, "You are still young and haven't grown up yet. Don't think about the bridal chamber every day."

Hearing this, Zhao Yuerong couldn't help but froze, and then she felt an uncontrollable shame. This shame made her cheeks heat up, and she felt inexplicably angry. She couldn't help but puff out her mouth and retort: ​​"I didn't think about it!

"

Well, even though the voice has been raised several notches, the slightly childish voice is still there, even if it is a bit shy and angry, it sounds like a lover acting coquettishly.

"Yes, you didn't think about it, I did."

"Really?" The little girl's hope rekindled.

"Fake, go back to your room and go to sleep."

In the days that followed, Xia Yuan's life settled down. He went to school every day and wrote about Condor Shooting whenever he had the chance.

After ten days of hard work, he had written nearly 100,000 words. He originally planned to take the manuscript to the Jingcheng Bookstore to discuss the price, but was delayed by the busy farming schedule.

In the north, wheat is grown. In early July, the wheat matures. When you stand on the ridge of the field, you can see a golden field. It is harvest time.

The farmers who were busy harvesting wheat in the fields were chatting and laughing, feeling sincerely happy about this good year.

Xia Yuan's family has four acres of land. When he and his wife arrived at the field to prepare for harvest, a group of people had already started to help his family cut wheat.

Only then did he remember that his family didn't seem to have to take care of the busy farming season every year, it was all done by these farmers.

There is a very special relationship between his family and the farmers who help with the work. It cannot be said to be employment and being employed. If we insist on boiling it down, it should be an affiliation relationship.

This is purely an institutional issue of the Ming Dynasty.

Xia Yuan's deceased cheap father was a scholar, and he himself was a scholar. According to the laws of the Ming Dynasty, those in his family who were well-known did not have to pay land taxes or perform corvee labor.

Therefore, this gave rise to a unique situation. Many ordinary farmers would name their fields under the names of scholars in the same village, or in order to evade the court's rent and taxes.

In return, they would hand over some harvested grain to these scholars every autumn harvest, which was, of course, lower than the imperial tax.

Xia Yuan's family is also in the same situation. Several families in the village have their fields under his name, but the folks in the village have never received any rent since his ancestors became famous.

But these simple farmers felt sorry for themselves, so they helped their families sow, fertilize, harvest, and expose their crops to the sun every year.

Anyway, they don't have to worry about anything in the field. In short, they provide one-stop service.

"No wonder."

Xia Yuan suddenly understood, and said that there was no scene of working in the fields in his memory. Logically speaking, his family was not rich, and he did not have any servants or tenants. It turned out to be this reason.

The two of them squatted under the big tree beside the field, listening to the chirping of cicadas and watching the people working in the field, Zhao Yuerong couldn't help but get ready to make a move again.

"Squatting here, I don't need your help. Besides, you don't know how to do farm work."

As soon as she was halfway upright, Xia Yuan reached out to hold her shoulders down. She was sewing, mending, washing and cooking, and doing housework. The little girl was definitely a good hand, but she didn't know how to do farm work at all. What could she do if she ran away.

What's more, human psychology is a very strange thing. With him squatting beside her and watching, these dealers felt at ease in their hearts.

But once they run to help, these people will feel unsure and wonder, are they planning to collect land rent?

"If you don't know how to do it, I can learn."

"Yes, you can learn."

As he said that, Xia Yuan stretched out his hand to squeeze his little wife's arm, "But you, with small arms and thin legs, are not suitable for farm work even if you learn how to do it. Didn't you see that person, just the tall, dark one?

He looks just like doing farm work. He looks tall and thick, just like Lu Zhishen. He looks energetic at first sight."

"Who is Lu Zhishen?"

"Oh, he is a monk. He is very powerful. He can uproot a weeping willow tree and beat a pork seller to death with three punches."

Zhao Yuerong's eyes widened slightly, "Did you beat someone to death?"

Xia Yuan nodded, "Ang."

"Then did he report him to the police after he killed someone?"

"."

Xia Yuan was silent for a moment and then said: "I didn't report it, so he became a monk now."
Chapter completed!