Walking on the way home, the little buddies were like eggplants hit by frost, too lazy to utter a single word.
Zhen Yu reached out to take the sickle from her brother, and said clearly and firmly, "Count!"
Zhen Yan looked at his sister, "Three furrows."
Han Mingyue followed, "Three furrows."
Bai Xue weakly said, "Two furrows."
Han Jiayang, half-dead, slumped against his brother, also said, "Two furrows."
Only Fu Yu remained silent, Zhen Yu looked at him, everyone looked at him.
Fu Yu looked at Zhen Yu with a strange expression, pursed his lips repeatedly, and finally replied in a low voice, "Three furrows."
Then he suddenly shouted, "Do you know how many Zhen Yu cut?"
"How many?" Han Jiayang was the first to ask, and everyone else waited for the follow-up.
Fu Yu exclaimed, "Zhen Yu is simply not human! She cut four furrows!!! One more than our class teacher!"
