Chapter 274

Mary Stone rushed home with her two grandsons as dusk fell.

"How is she?" Mary asked in a hushed voice.

"Just woke up. The doctor said she should only eat light food." Michael Stone wiped his brow, exhaustion evident in his eyes.

"I should head back. We've got corn to harvest tomorrow." Mary sighed, glancing at the closed bedroom door.

The boys darted inside and hovered by the bed, their eyes wide with concern.

"Mommy, do you still feel bad?" David asked timidly.

Tommy reached out to touch Emily's forehead. "Does it still hurt?"

Emily forced a weak smile. "No, I'm okay now. Did I scare you?"

Both boys shook their heads. The last time she'd been sick, their father hadn't been home, and they'd been terrified.

"Go take your nap," Emily said faintly. "Let Daddy give you a bath?"

David wore a gray undershirt and the latest plastic sandals. Tommy's beach shoes—comfortable though unfashionable—had been carefully chosen by Emily on PennyDeals.

"Mommy should rest first." David, ever the responsible big brother, tugged his sibling toward the door.

Tommy clung to the doorframe. "I wanna stay with Mommy..."

"Mommy needs to sleep," David said sternly.

Michael entered carrying a bowl of mung bean porridge to find his sons wrestling by the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" He frowned. "It's sweltering—get inside."

"Daddy, Mommy—"

"I've got her." Michael slipped past them, his voice softening. "Sweetheart, have some porridge to cool down."

Emily shook her head. "Not hungry."

She'd been careful with her health since arriving nearly a year ago. But after finishing her college entrance exams, the sudden release of tension had triggered a raging fever.

"I added sugar," Michael coaxed.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"Go eat." Emily closed her eyes. "I'll sleep a while."

Even the bamboo mat couldn't combat the summer heat. Michael picked up a palm-leaf fan and began gently waving it over her.

He kept vigil all night, even steadying her when she needed the bathroom, afraid she might collapse.

At dawn, the production team's bell echoed through the village.

In the cornfield, workers murmured in surprise at the stark size difference between stalks.

"Why are these ears so big?"

"That's the batch Emily cultivated," someone explained. "The others are from the seeds Team Leader John bought."

"She knows how to do that?"

"Of course—she's educated!"

Team Leader John Stone squatted at the field's edge, meticulously comparing the two corn varieties. He ordered them separated into piles, already calculating something in his mind.