Xiaoyao glared at Ye Qingying with some resentment.
People were talking; how could one get distracted and ignore what was said?
Still, with patience, she repeated her question:
"Why don't the people here plant crops suitable for winter? I can't see anything growing in the fields."
Ye Qingying glanced outside and casually replied, "The pest infestation is severe, nothing can be grown."
"Pest infestation?" Xiaoyao furrowed her brows, "What kind of pest?"
"A kind... of pest that cannot be completely eradicated, which appeared out of nowhere a few years ago. They ravage the fields from the start of summer, and even in winter they persist, eating anything and everything in the fields, making it impossible for any crops to grow."
"Why not find a way to deal with it?" It seemed like a waste that there was such a large area suitable for planting, yet the common people couldn't even afford to eat white rice.
