Chelsea Raines glanced up at the scorching sun, which was so blinding she had to shut her eyes. "Three hours," she sighed. "We're going to be baked alive out here."
A tall, lean man in a felt hat and traditional ethnic attire approached them from the direction of the watermelon patch. He looked as if he had been working there for quite some time.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Nigati. Welcome to Xylia." His Mandarin wasn't very fluent, but he had a constant, beaming smile on his face.
Two more men and a woman, also in traditional clothing and appearing to be in their twenties or thirties, came over. They greeted the group first in the local dialect, then again in Mandarin.
Nigati introduced them. "These are my son and daughter."
The guests all shook their hands and exchanged greetings.
Nigati's young daughter ran over, carrying a large watermelon. She had a healthy, rosy complexion, and a smile revealed her neat, white teeth.
