plumnovel #609 - Autumn Harvest Mutual Aid Team
#609 - Autumn Harvest Mutual Aid Team
The harvest season always passes so quickly; a week feels like Henderson's prostate—once it gets going, it doesn't stop.
For Larol, however, time accelerated to the extreme within this week.
Under a sky that was half sunset and half stars, the wheat field next door remained a golden expanse.
The farmers who had once robbed him of his wheat were still bending over, sweating and wielding their scythes.
But he was now standing in front of the wheat stubble, holding a scythe, staring blankly, while Ansel and Bryson were tying up the last bundle of oats behind him.
Brushing the dust and grass clippings from his hands, Bryson and Ansel stood beside Larol.
Bryson looked at the empty wheat field before him, feeling an indescribable sense of satisfaction despite his exhaustion.
All 18 acres of land had been harvested, and he had even gone to the lord's private plot several times during that period.
It was still three weeks before September, and in the past, he would have been frantically rushing between the lord's fields and his own.
For the first time, Larol took the initiative to find Ansel and even grasped his hand: "What do you want me to do? Just say it, as long as I can do it."
Larol was ready to accept the so-called missionary work of this monk regarding the Sacred Path Sect and perpetual lease rights.
But Ansel's answer was beyond his expectations: "We've saved you two and a half weeks. After deducting the week you'll be working for the lord and giving yourself half a week to rest,
a total of seven days, if you have free time, work with me."
So, during the following period, there was one more person helping Ansel and Bryson harvest in the fields.
Two days later, after they helped the second poorest farmer harvest, the number of people following Ansel and Bryson became two.
Every time they arrived at a field, they formed a group of five, with four people harvesting and one person binding, and they could harvest 10 to 12 acres of land each day.
Adding the fields that the farmers had already harvested themselves, they could basically help a family lacking labor harvest all their wheat fields in two days, and then use favors to keep them going.
By mid-August, there were already eight people following Ansel and Bryson, forming two teams of five to help with the harvest, and they could basically harvest 20 acres a day.
In the following week, the number of people behind Ansel and Bryson increased by almost one or two each day.
Ansel then took the opportunity to form them into harvesting teams of five, and even had them elect their own team leaders.
In theory, some members of these harvesting teams agreed to work for a week, while others agreed to work for three days, but in the end, almost no one left.
Because they found that harvesting as a family unit was far less efficient than working in these teams.
Taking harvesting as an example, if two families each had 10 acres of land, and each family had two or three laborers working hard for a day, they could only harvest 2-3 acres, which would take four or five days to complete.
If they followed Ansel's method of four people harvesting and one person binding, they could finish one family's field in one day and the other family's field in one day, completing the task in two days.
The extra two or three days could be used to collect more hay or repair their houses.
Not only harvesting, but also threshing, winnowing, and even collecting firewood, splitting wood, or repairing fences were all more efficient than each family working alone with two or three laborers.
Many people even slapped their foreheads in regret: "We know to cooperate when hunting wolves and foxes, why don't we know to cooperate when doing farm work?"
Although the promised labor time had passed, they would still stay in the team to enjoy the benefits it brought.
Of course, with more people, there were bound to be problems.
During the expansion of the team, Ansel and Bryson dealt with several such disputes, where someone was delaying or being lazy and was discovered by others.
But what kind of society were the mountain people?
As soon as someone was discovered, social death was the least of their worries. With the mountain people's explosive tempers, they would really pin the lazy person to the ground and kick them, and even if they kicked them to death, no one would speak up for them.
As for what Ansel had to do, it was to appease the furious mountain people and then make a reasonable judgment, which would be executed if everyone agreed.
Unfortunately, Ansel and Bryson came a little late. They only came in August and missed the soil loosening phase in mid-July, and not all farmers needed help.
In the end, there were only 22 households in this "mutual aid group", accounting for about 30% of the manor's farmers, and they were also the poorest households.
At this point, Bryson had to sincerely admit: "Where did you learn this trick? The previous village priests couldn't even leave the church door."
Ansel had just gone to dredge the irrigation ditches with the other farmers during the slack season. He was covered in mud, with mud stains all over his face, looking like the resurrected Niggersacks.
Hearing Bryson's words, Ansel turned around and walked backwards, facing Bryson. He grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth in the black mud: "This is the experience summarized by the Diocese of Langsand in promoting the Hundred-Household District. I just adapted it a bit."
"Tonight, let's call everyone together and finalize this harvesting team. Your first step is complete, right?"
Ansel shook his head: "Still on the first step..."
Just as he finished speaking, Bryson frowned, not because there was a problem with Ansel, but because a loafer following Henderson was walking towards them.
Bryson had a bad feeling in his heart.
With bright eyes, Ansel, who was facing away from the road, was about to explain when another foot suddenly stuck out.
Caught off guard, Ansel staggered and didn't even have time to shout before he fell to the side.
There was a patch of thorny bushes wrapped in a fence.
"Hey!" Bryson exclaimed in shock and immediately reached out to pull him, but it was too late. Ansel fell backwards into the thorny bushes.
The thorns instantly pierced his skin and clothes. Although Ansel adjusted his posture, a hand-length wound instantly appeared on Ansel's cheek and arm.
Crimson blood dripped down, and the loafer's insincere smile followed: "Oh dear, isn't this Monk Ansel? I didn't even recognize you."
"Bullshit." Helping Ansel to sit up, Bryson's eyes flashed with anger for the first time, and his fingers trembled as he pointed at the loafer, "Didn't you see Monk Ansel, didn't you see me?"
"How can you say that?" The expression on the loafer's face was extremely sincere, even with a hint of grievance, "I didn't see clearly, I accidentally bumped into him. With this outfit, I thought he was a beggar—"
"Aminoas! (*Mountain County curse word, derived from beastmen*)"
"Ugh—"
Before the loafer could finish speaking, his waist suddenly thrust forward, and Bryson even heard the crisp sound of bones dislocating.
Amidst the flying dust, the loafer let out a pig-like scream and suddenly fell forward to the ground, kneeling in front of Ansel.
"Ah—" Covering his lower back, the flesh on his face was all twisted together, wriggling on the ground like a large maggot, "Who, who dared to attack me?"
Others might not have seen it clearly, but Bryson did.
After Ansel fell, Larol, who was not far away, started running from five or six meters away with zero frames, and a flying kick directly hit the loafer's butt.
A flying kick ripped the loafer's vest open.
Struggling from the ground, the loafer tried to get up, but as soon as he propped his hands on the ground and looked up, several thick, hairy calves filled his vision.
Before he could even see clearly, farmers stepped on his fingers one after another.
Before the screams even ended, his cheek and bridge of his nose were kneed, and bright red nosebleeds flowed down, and the farmers' sarcastic voices came from his ears.
"Oh, who's there? I almost tripped over them."
"I don't know, I saw a black thing lying there, I thought it was a dog."
"Some stray dogs don't even know who their owners are when they run around."
After being kicked dizzy, the loafer finally got up, covering his lower back, his face twitching in pain.
But he was still stubborn: "Who kicked me? Who? Who kicked me? Stand out, let's fight one-on-one!"
The peasant women stopped chasing chickens and ducks, the farmers stopped carrying straw, and the area suddenly became quiet.
After asking several times, none of the farmers answered, and Larol had long been hidden behind everyone.
The loafer was still scanning with fierce eyes, but all he could see were pairs of eyes that were either cold or mocking.
For some reason, a strange sense of fear enveloped his heart. He looked left and right for a while, and continued to be stubborn: "Don't let me catch you, I already know who it is! I'm in a good mood today, I won't bother with you."
As he spoke, he limped along the path, gritting his teeth in pain, and left the area.
After he left, the other villagers immediately turned their concerned eyes to Bryson and Ansel, and several nearby farmers hurried up to help.
Turning his head to look at the other villagers surrounding Ansel and asking questions, and glancing at the loafer who left in a mess, Bryson had to admit that Ansel had really opened up the situation.
Perhaps there was really hope? Although there were only 20 or so households, they finally had their own people.
Crouching beside Ansel, Bryson lowered his head and lowered his voice: "Is this the second step?"
"Not yet." Ansel shook his head and held up one finger.
"Still the first step?" Bryson scratched his head, "When will your second step come?"
"It has to wait until an important thing is delivered." Although his face was covered in mud and blood, Ansel's gaze towards the outside of the manor was unusually bright.