No matter the reason for their skepticism, the Jiang family, along with some villagers from Fu'an Village, harvested the sorghum that was still a few days away from ripening within one or two days and brought it home.
"Dad, why don't we harvest ours too? Look, the Jiang family has done it. What if there really is a locust plague?"
In the field, a middle-aged man in his thirties, looking anxious, gazed at the old man still in the field, who was his father.
Next to him was his mother, who frowned upon hearing this: "Why all this superstitious nonsense? We've been doing this for so long, and there aren't even worms or ants in the field. Where would the locusts come from?"
The old man nodded, "Exactly, don't just believe any rumor as truth. If we wait a few more days, we can get an extra few dozen pounds of sorghum!"
The grain at home was running low. Although it was still enough to eat, it could only last for just over a month, so the grain in the field was especially crucial now.
