"Sir, life has gotten better, why do you say that? If the rice isn't sold and gets drenched by rain, it will mold."
"Ha-ha, I've been farming all my life, do you think I don't know that? But I'm afraid of hunger, I dare not sell."
Feng Xuxu was very dizzy from his words and asked, "Isn't your son filial?" He should be, shouldn't he? In this era, a filial son risks his neck—it might be too far to say that, still, such cases exist in some villages.
"No, no, no, it's not that, my son and daughter-in-law are very filial. I'm just afraid of some disaster striking."
Feng Xuxu suddenly turned pale; she had made such a big mistake and yet was ignorant of it. She only knew about farming but was unaware of the saying about natural and man-made disasters. Man-made disasters might be avoided, but natural disasters couldn't be. Remembering this, she broke out in cold sweat.
