Zhang Dashuan chuckled. "When you're dead tired, who cares about any of that? You could fall asleep in a cowshed in a heartbeat. You'd probably only feel your sore backside in your dreams!"
Zhang Huai and Qingmu weren't much better off. Having spent so many years as scholars, this was their first real taste of fieldwork. They didn't feel it so much while bent over, but straightening up was a real struggle—it took them what felt like an eternity, grimacing all the while, just to stand upright.
Still, they were young and could take it, unlike their parents. Their folks' bones were old and stiff, and after clambering out of the rice paddies, they walked with a peculiar gait.
The group returned to the Zheng Family's home to find that Juhua and the others had already laid out the meal on the table.
