Chapter 168

As the voices of discussion echoed, the competition officially began. The rules of the competition were quite simple: each participant had to choose a ridge in an acre of farmland, and the winner would be decided by who could harvest the chosen ridge the fastest. At the scorekeeper's shout of "start," Sherman and Willow almost simultaneously swung into action. The majority of the eyes couldn't help but focus on Willow. She went down to the field, bent over, swung her sickle - a sequence of movements that were skillful and fast, yet somehow still exuded an air of effortless grace. Snap, snap, snap. With the sound of the sickle's harvesting, a row of wheat quickly fell, then followed by her moving forward without any hesitation. "Ah, Aiden's wife's speed is surprisingly fast?" "Looking at her, she certainly doesn't seem like someone who hasn't worked in the fields before!" "Look at the stalks of wheat she's reaping—they're almost uniform in length, even neater than what Sherman can do."