"Thank you, husband." Di Yao didn't notice his shaking hands hidden behind his back, because her own heart was pounding like a drum. And the feeling was strangely familiar.
That evening, Wei Xunzhou helped Di Yao plant the soaked seeds from the morning. After planting, she handed him the tools and told him to rest, but she stayed behind.
After he left, Di Yao looked up at the blood moon hanging like a sickle on the horizon and bowed devoutly in every direction.
When she finished, she didn't see Wei Xunzhou, but she spotted Xibian, who was peeking curiously.
Xibian was panting, his tongue lolling out and a knowing grin on his face, his tail wagging wildly. Di Yao ran up and hugged his neck, threatening in a low voice:
"I warn you, don't you dare tell my husband." She wrinkled her nose at Xibian. "You hear me!"
Xibian, good at reading her expression, opened his mouth to bark, but Di Yao quickly clamped his mouth shut.
The second batch of seeds died even faster than the first. Di Yao couldn't figure out what difference between the two plantings had caused this.
Still, she kept guessing optimistically. Maybe the survival time was random; if so, there might still be a chance of a wheat harvest!
Then she planted a third batch.
It died.
A fourth batch...
With each failure, she reviewed her methods, even clearing out the inconspicuous stones from the soil.
If she failed again, she wouldn't know what else to improve.
Di Yao propped her head on her hand and looked up at the sky helplessly.
"Heavens, if it doesn't grow, my chance of survival is over."
As soon as she spoke, a flash of lightning split the sky across its entirety, followed by a thunderous roar that seemed to condemn her rash words.
Di Yao froze, muttering to herself: "No, what day is it today? Grain Rain! Damn, my seedlings!"
She shot up from the reclining chair and rushed to find Wei Xunzhou. He was nowhere to be seen, and then she remembered he had gone out early that morning.
Without a second thought, she grabbed a backpack and ran out into the rain to save her seedlings.
As Meng Po had said, the rain was indeed problematic. The emerald green seedlings dropped the moment they touched the raindrops. She resolved to save as many as she could. Putting down the backpack, she took out a shovel and waded into the muddy field, quickly digging up the seedlings.
But the rain was unusually penetrating; within moments, it had seeped deep into the ground. Each time she dug, she brought up a large clump of mud. Ignoring the dirt, she pulled off the biggest clumps and threw the seedlings into the backpack.
Soon the backpack grew heavy.
Di Yao looked over her shoulder at the remaining seedlings, which had begun to blacken. Gritting her teeth, she dropped the shovel and ran toward the front yard, clutching the backpack.
Mud from the surface and inside the backpack washed down her clothes and arms, and she vaguely smelled a sour odor.
The backpack became heavier and heavier; Di Yao quickly ran out of strength. To catch her breath, she parted her lips, letting the rain splash into her mouth.
For the first time, she thought that having a big house wasn't so good. The distance between the front and back yards was too long...
Gradually, her vision blurred—not because of the rain. Amid a piercing tinnitus and her frantic heartbeat, her sight went dark, as if ink had spilled across her eyes, spreading wildly at the touch of water.
She shook her head violently, her steps unsteady, almost falling. Her legs lost strength, and she could barely stand.
"Husband... Wei Xunzhou..." Helpless, she thought of him instinctively, but she had no energy left. Her mind moved slowly, and then she remembered she hadn't seen him all day.
She was on her own now. Summoning her last strength, she forced herself to run to the front yard, where she saw the dry area under the eaves. Like a lifeline, she climbed the steps and managed to place the backpack in a safe spot.
Then she collapsed, hugging the backpack tightly, intending to rest but gradually losing consciousness.
Her lower body remained exposed to the rain.
...
Four days later, Di Yao woke. She recognized the familiar bed canopy and slowly regained her senses. Someone had changed her muddy clothes and cleaned her up. Now lying in a soft, fragrant bed, she felt utterly comfortable.
She moved her neck gently, and a brief ringing sound echoed in her ears. When she forced herself to sit up, the ringing faded.
Her legs were cramping, but her feet were warm. Reaching down, she touched a still-warm hot-water bottle.
She tried calling for Wei Xunzhou, but hearing no response, she stopped. She massaged her sore, weak legs and looked out the window. The sky was now clear.
Only then did she realize she had been unconscious for at least three days.
What about the seedlings she had saved? Were any still alive?