Chapter 13: Is the Melon Sweeter or Your Mouth?_1

Nan Feng handed over a glass of water, "Though it's rather admirable to save water, who would have thought Guangguang would have the sense to smash the jar? For such a young lad to understand this, he's bound to have a bright future."

Isn't that how Sima Guang ended up being written in the history books, celebrated for generations to come?

With her son being praised, Aunt Sima's face lit up with a bright smile, "All this talk about bright futures; we simple womenfolk don't understand such matters. As long as he grows up well and can fend for himself, that's good enough for us."

"Don't you worry, Aunt Sima, Guangguang will not disappoint you," Nan Feng confidently assured her.

"You sweet young lady, not only have you become more clever after your illness, but your words too have become sweeter. I'll send you a big melon one of these days, we'll see whether it's sweeter than your sweet words."

"Thank you, Aunt Sima," Nan Feng smiled.

Nan Quanyou also came over, and Aunt Sima firstly took the opportunity to heap praises about Nan Feng to him, exclaiming how his daughter has become so smart and sensible now.

After that, Aunt Sima took a turn, "Actually, I came here today to notify you about the taxes to be paid. Like every year, it's still the same - five measures per head. Your family reports two adults, that makes it ten measures in total. You don't have any issues with that, right?"

Nan Quanyou's face clouded over instantly, "Paying the dues won't be a problem, but... once we've paid, we wouldn't have any grains left."

Nan Feng also asked, "Earlier, it was only my father who used to do farming, and I couldn't help him at all. And, with my father's leg being in a bad state, Aunt Sima, could you please speak with the granary officials to reduce our share a bit?"

Aunt Sima said reluctantly, "We can't reduce it anymore. The village head said in the morning that our village has been lagging behind others every year, and this year is going to be even stricter. No exceptions can be made. However..."

Aunt Sima thought for a moment, "I can spare two measures from my share. You can pay two measures less tomorrow."

Nan Feng hurriedly stopped her, "No, no, we don't need that. If it's ten measures, we'll pay ten. That's it."

Nan Quanyou, though poor but firm in spirit, stated, "Right, we will pay what we are supposed to. We cannot pay less."

"But there's still half a year to the next harvest. Will you be able to cope?" Aunt Sima asked.

Nan Feng said, "We will take one step at a time. It's different from what it used to be; now, I can share my father's burden. We won't always be poor."

Aunt Sima was taken aback for a moment.

This young girl, who always seemed a little naive earlier, was now always speaking with a smile on her face, with an air of certainty in her voice, it was as if she could actually do anything she said she could.

"Alright, put your tax grains at the threshing floor at daybreak tomorrow. Be sure to be there. Anyone who doesn't pay will be penalized threefold."

"Of course, we will definitely be there."

...

The next day.

Paying the annual tax was always the most disheartening day for Nan Quanyou. Watching the fruits of their hard work over the better part of the year being handed over haphazardly, he always appeared painfully dejected.

So, Nan Feng told Nan Quanyou not to go, and decided to go by herself.

Her tiny body was shouldered with the burden of carrying the rice to the threshing floor.

Every family had sent representatives to bring their tax rice. Of course, everyone's faces reflected regret. They had toiled for most of the year, and in the end, they had to give up so much of their produce.

Having unloaded the tax grain with difficulty, Nan Feng lifted her gaze and found herself looking at Ye-ge across her.

Ye-ge turned back, their eyes met. Nan Feng gave him a smile, but Ye-ge maintained a neutral expression.

Maybe his face was just hard to read?

Added to that, he seemed disinclined to chat, so Nan Feng quietly stood behind him.