Chapter 1180 - 542: "Mom

Chapter 1180: Chapter 542: "Mom

No, it’s not okay to give my daughter away!

No way—

However, the old father’s sorrowful cries went unheard, and even if heard, no one cared.

"Well, you do have a point."

The woman thought for a while, reluctantly agreeing to her husband’s suggestion, and continued to ask, "It’s not okay for the eldest son, then what about the younger son?"

"No, no, no, their younger son is already forty-four, isn’t there no difference!" the father spoke out passionately again.

No way!

"Oh dear, I’m just asking, why are you getting so worked up?"

The woman rolled her eyes at her emotional husband and snorted, "Really, you and your daughter aren’t steady at all."

???

The teased father and daughter exchanged glances, seeing the helplessness in each other’s eyes.

"Ahem..."

"Sigh..."

Forget it, forget it.

Don’t argue with her; you won’t win.

As long as she’s happy, it’s alright.

Over there, the mother paid no mind to the little interactions of the father and daughter, still blissfully listing potential candidates.

"I’ve heard that the tailor’s child is quite good too, but I recall that her child seems to be..."

"Three years old."

Father was too tired to even complain, swiftly gulping down the thick soup in his bowl, feeling quite drained. He then carried his bowl to the kitchen.

"Oh, three years old, that’s indeed a bit young."

Just a bit young!!?

Teresa suppressed the urge to complain, keeping her head down and saying nothing as she started battling the thick soup in her bowl.

The atmosphere at the dining table became warm again, with only the mother’s gentle words and the quiet clinking of bowls and chopsticks.

"...Hehe."

Yet, listening to her mother’s murmurs beside her ear, Teresa’s lips unknowingly curved into a smile.

Teresa secretly raised her eyes, looking at her mother’s gentle profile and her father’s busy figure in the kitchen, feeling warmth in her heart.

Since waking from that day’s dream, such scenes have continued for several months.

Teresa had long since totally awakened, no longer mistaking the dream experiences for reality, had completely forgotten them.

Yet, for some reason, she still occasionally felt like she was dreaming.

"It always feels, this kind of happiness, doesn’t belong to me..."

"Hmm? Teresa, did you say something?"

Faced with her mother’s inquiry, Teresa shook her head slightly.

"...No, nothing."

After finishing the meal, Teresa voluntarily tidied up the tableware, taking it to the kitchen to wash with her mother.

Her father went to the inner room to get farm tools, by the time she tidied up, he was already at the door with a hoe waiting for them.

"We have to dig out all the potatoes in the field to the east today, or it’ll be too late to sell them to passing traders."

Her father’s voice was not loud, yet carried an assuring strength, and Teresa wiped the water off her hands, picking up the small hoe in the corner:

"Understood, Father."​

The family of three walked toward the eastern fields, the village was very quiet, occasionally seeing neighbors busy in their own yards, they would always greet them warmly.

The harvest season always brings joy, even though it requires a lot of effort.

Teresa carried a hoe one size smaller, but still somewhat heavy for her, following her father to the field ridge.

The soil held the residue warmth from the sun, feeling soft underfoot.

Her father silently wielded the hoe in front, his actions were skillful and rhythmic; as the earth was turned over, revealing potatoes of varying sizes, covered in fresh soil beneath.

Teresa mimicked his posture, swinging her hoe forcefully downwards.

Her movements were far less smooth than her father’s, nearly digging into potatoes several times, yet had become much more adept compared to the start.

Before long, her arms began aching, sweat beaded on her back, and her breathing grew slightly heavy.

Tired, truly tired.

Her palms quickly became reddened from rubbing against the coarse hoe handle, and her waist began to ache and swell.

The sunlight was not glaring, yet carried some heat, making her cheeks burn.

Teresa straightened up, rubbing her aching arms, looking at her parents not far away.

Her father was still focused on digging, his movements steady and strong, while her mother deftly loaded the unearthed potatoes into baskets.

"Rest if you’re tired, don’t force yourself."

Noticing Teresa’s gaze, her mother turned with a smile towards her.

"It’s fine, Mother, I can still dig." Teresa shook her head and wiped her sweat.

She bent down too, picked up the round potatoes, and carefully placed them into a nearby basket.

Watching as the basket bottom gradually filled from their harvest, an indescribable sense of fulfillment and joy welled up from her heart.

Sweat trickled down from her brow, drip-dropped into the soil, yet she couldn’t help but smile.

Occasionally, her father would stop, check her progress, saying nothing, merely signaling her to pay attention to the technique with his eyes.

Though Teresa’s body was tired, seeing the growing pile of potatoes in the basket, a happiness in her heart gradually accumulated.

She loved this grounded feeling, each potato excavated was like harvesting a bit of tiny happiness.​​

The three dug until the sky gradually darkened, stars began to twinkle in the sky, finally finished roughly, and carried the baskets filled with potatoes back home.

Teresa sat resting on the bench, though her body was weary, her mind was oddly light.

How long have days like these been going on?

Teresa couldn’t quite remember, maybe several months, maybe many years.

Every day, the same tranquility and fulfillment.

Awakening in the morning to the crow of a rooster, eating a simple breakfast made by her mother, in the daytime perhaps helping out with some household chores, farm work, in the evening having dinner together as a family, listening to her mother’s chatter about village trivia.