Chapter 260

The kerosene lamp cast flickering golden light on the windowsill. Emily glanced at the wall clock for the third time. The hands pointed to eleven. Rubbing her tired eyes, she turned another page of the agricultural manual.

A rustling sound came from outside the courtyard wall. Michael Stone vaulted over quietly, not wanting to disturb his wife. But seeing the light still glowing through the window, warmth spread through his chest.

"Sweetheart, I'm home."

Emily hurried to open the door. The night breeze carried the scent of damp earth as Michael stepped inside, his trousers flecked with mud.

"About the seeds..."

"Seven villages, and this is all I could find." Michael pulled a cloth bundle from his coat. The handful of rice seeds inside looked pitifully sparse.

Emily took the bundle, fingertips brushing the shriveled grains. "Maybe we could try last year's harvest?"

Michael frowned. Last year's yield had been poor, the remaining grains uneven in quality. But now...

"Let me heat some food for you." Emily turned toward the kitchen, but Michael caught her wrist.

"Don't bother." He noticed the faint shadows under her eyes. "You've been working too hard."

Emily's eyes suddenly brightened. "I've been reading agricultural books. Maybe we could attempt seed cultivation."

"Cultivation?" Michael stared. Since when did his city-bred wife know about farming?

"Temperature control, soaking duration—it's all precise." She flipped open the book, pointing at diagrams. "If we can improve the germination rate..."

Michael hesitated, but seeing her determined profile, he nodded. "I'll speak with Father tomorrow."

At dawn, after hearing his son's proposal, Senior John Stone studied the dog-eared manual for a long moment.

"Twenty pounds. No more." The old team leader sighed. "If this actually works..."

Emily accepted the rice grains like treasure. Once the household emptied, she sprang into action—warm water soaking, nutrient solutions, timed stirring—each step executed with textbook precision.

Three mornings later, Emily lifted the cotton cloth covering the wooden barrel and gasped.

Tiny white sprouts peeked from the grains, crowding the barrel's bottom in thick clusters.

"How...?" Michael rushed over at her call, eyes widening. Normally germination took seven days, yet here...

Emily smiled faintly. "The book says proper temperature and humidity can double the speed."

News spread through the production team like wildfire. Gloom lifted as villagers gathered around the miraculous sprouts, murmuring in awe.

"Emily's a miracle worker!"

"We're saved..."

"Quick, see the seedlings Mrs. Stone cultivated..."

Senior John stood at the crowd's edge, watching his daughter-in-law demonstrate techniques to the encircled villagers. He discreetly wiped his eyes. This city girl might just lead them through their darkest hour.