Young York secretly went to cut fodder during the day without telling his mother, and the little bit of beans he exchanged for the fodder he put into the grain jar, thinking his mother didn't know,
but in fact, Monia already knew.
Living in such a village, how could she not know?
The beans in the grain jar, Monia counted almost every meal, how could she not notice that there was a little more today than yesterday?
Recalling those nights when young York tossed and turned in pain and couldn't sleep, Monia's nose tingled with emotion.
Originally,
these things shouldn't be for him to worry about at his age.
At his age, he should be carefree, running wildly across the fields without being scolded by adults. After passing this tender age, only at seven or eight years old would he start being asked by his parents to help with some simple chores, truly becoming a member of the family workforce only after thirteen.
But,
