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... azure as far as the eye can see. It’s another rare harvest day of the year.
In September, the southern winds turn the wheat yellow, and the rice paddies spread a sweet scent over ten miles.
Bees dance atop the wheat, seemingly expressing joy at the harvest. One by one, the farmers work in the golden wheat field, sweating profusely. They bend over to wave their sickles. Despite the busy nature of their work, they don’t have happy expressions.
“I am exhausted. Surely, I can’t ...
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