At this moment, quite a few people were gathered at the village entrance, clustered around watching the process of popping rice.
From a distance, Mu Shuangshuang saw an elderly man with dark skin and white hair, hunchbacked, busy managing both the fire and the task at hand.
With a tin box for popping rice, a bit of firewood, and a cloth bag, these simple items in his hands turned cups of rice into popped rice.
Generally, everyone would bring a cup of rice to pop or watch how much others popped and then go ask for some themselves.
After a loud "bang," the last batch of popped rice was ready. Everyone took a little bit, and then they were satisfied and about to leave.
A few young wives approached after seeing Mu Shuangshuang.
"Hey, Shuang! Is your family also popping rice? What are you holding, isn't it corn?"
"Yes, my uncle came over and brought some corn, so I thought I could try popping it." Mu Shuangshuang nodded in response.
