124 Always able to finish the task?

With the full cooperation of the two craftsmen, the plow carts and other tools were assembled very quickly.

“All done.”

Soon after expressing thanks and farewells, the craftsmen led their assistants away to continue their work. Standing beside the oxen, Wu Qingchen turned to face the heads of the four neighboring households.

“Uncles, everything is ready. From now on, you all just follow my lead, okay?”

“Yes, we’ll follow you!”

“Los, you go ahead!”

“We’ll do whatever you tell us!”

This was a decision agreed upon long ago.

Having spent over forty days working together—repairing roads, wooden bridges, and exchanging farming labor—the four old neighbors had grown fond of collective labor.

A few days ago, taking advantage of Wu Qingchen’s free time, the heads of the four households came together and asked him to take charge of organizing collective work for the summer season.

“Alright!”

Wu Qingchen glanced around and first identified the two farmers with the lowest stamina among the four families, as chosen earlier by the Earth team’s advisors.

“Willy, Asa, you two come with me. I want you to clear all the stones along the way. You know what to do, right?”

“I do!” “Brother Los, I know, too.”

The two boys, about the same height as Wu Qingchen, immediately began picking up stones near him.

“Pile them up, pile them up!” Wu Qingchen instructed them to gather the hard clods and stones scattered around into piles.

“Nigel, Alger,” he called two other children of similar age, “you carry the baskets and follow Willy and the others. Wherever they go, load the stones and throw them outside the common land. Got it?”

“Got it, Los.”

The two promptly squatted down, scooping up the stones the younger boys had piled and putting them into baskets.

“Uncle Richard, Uncle Freeman.”

Next were the two farmers with the steadiest arms and the most experience tilling the soil.

“I’ll leave the oxen driving to you.”

“Alright, Los, you can count on us.”

The two veterans patted the already repaired plow carts and replied steadily.

“Then Aunt Paula and Aunt Jenny.”

Wu Qingchen continued selecting each person one by one, assigning every farmer on the common land to a suitable post according to the plan devised by the Earth advisory team.

“That’s about it. Does everyone remember what to do?”

After repeating instructions twice to each villager, Wu Qingchen looked over the crowd again.

“Got it!” “All set!” “Let’s start, Los.”

The old neighbors responded enthusiastically.

“Good, then let’s begin! Willy, Asa, you come with me! Everyone else, follow along!”

“Alright!”

At Wu Qingchen’s command, every villager assigned to the common land from the four households began working busily.

Given the limited knowledge and experience of medieval villagers, these farmers and farmwives could hardly understand complex instructions.

In fact, whether stacking stones, carrying baskets, or supporting plow carts, every task Wu Qingchen arranged involved work the villagers already mastered—tasks they did multiple times each year, month, even day.

The difference lay in how these families usually operated: during agricultural production, every laborer would move between most work stages. It was rare to assign each worker a fixed, singular role as Wu Qingchen now did.

A few dozen steps away, beside the clerk Thor, stood a boy about Wu Qingchen’s age. The boy occasionally covered his mouth to cough quietly, watching Thor count heads and mark on parchment. When he looked up and glanced toward Wu Qingchen’s group, his eyes widened with surprise.

“Father, father,” the boy said, tugging on his father’s arm, “look, look over there!”

“Hmm?”

The clerk, still counting villagers, glanced twice toward Wu Qingchen’s group and then curiously turned back.

“Nothing much, what’s wrong, Erik?”

“That, that…” The boy pointed vigorously at the common land. “Los and the others, why are they working like that?”

“What do you mean?”

Thor looked again, then suddenly his expression brightened with understanding.

“Oh, that. You’ve been sick lately and probably don’t know. Los’s families usually work like that around here.”

“Like that?” Erik’s surprise deepened. “Does working like that actually have benefits?”

“Of course!” Thor nodded, patting his son’s head. “They work faster than the others.”

“Ah? Why are they faster?”

“Well, wait a moment.”

At this point, Thor gestured for his son to hold on and finished counting the villagers who had gathered nearby. Only then did he close the parchment, take his son by the hand, and walk a few steps to a higher vantage point. Pointing towards Wu Qingchen’s group, he said:

“Come, look closely. See how Los’s families work differently from the others.”

“Very different!” Erik replied immediately.

“What exactly is different?”

“Hmm…”

Erik opened his eyes wide, carefully observing Wu Qingchen’s group, then glancing at the other villagers nearby. He began summarizing:

“The youngest kids pick stones, the older children carry baskets, the adults plow, the older brothers follow behind breaking up hard clods of earth. Some people are even building a fire pit—are they planning to cook right there on the common land?”

“Yes.”

Thor nodded approvingly.

“Erik, you’re very observant! That’s why Los’s group works faster.”

“Ah? Then why don’t others do the same?”

“Others want to, of course,” Thor shook his head. “But they can’t.”

“Uh?” Erik looked puzzled.

“If they don’t pick stones, it’s not so bad; they might just stub their toes. Look over there.”

Thor casually pointed toward another common land where another family toiled. The father and eldest son carried a plow cart, the mother and two other sons carried another. The five bent deeply, trudging silently through the muddy field. Occasionally, one winced, crouched down, and pulled out a stone to toss far away from the field.

“See? The whole family is working hard but still struggling. How could they spare anyone to follow behind breaking hard clods?”

“What about those clods?” Erik asked. “Breaking them is necessary for plowing!”

“There are plenty of ways,” Thor said, pointing elsewhere.

Following his finger, Erik saw some families who, after plowing a certain distance, would return to break the clods; others plowed continuously, perhaps planning to leave some work for later; and others tried to bury the hard clods, but were caught and punished.

Undoubtedly, none of these methods matched the one used by Los’s four neighboring families:

The front workers cleared stones; the main laborers boldly plowed the soil; and the rear workers took advantage of the moist, loosened clods to break them up. The whole process flowed smoothly, saving time and effort.

“So that’s it. This method only works well with many people.”

Having understood this, Erik raised a new question.

“But if many people are needed, why don’t others just gather more families to work together?”

“Of course, they do,” Thor said, pulling his son to several spots before finally finding similar examples.

In one plot, two families worked together: one youngest child picking stones, a slightly older child carrying baskets, five strongest laborers plowing, and two women plus remaining helpers clearing hard clods with tools.

It was a scaled-down version of Los’s cooperative farming.

“Wow!” Erik’s mouth dropped open.

“Come on, there should be more.”

Seeing his son’s delighted expression, Thor led him around to find a few more similar cases.

“Notice anything?”

“Hmm…”

Erik pondered. “Most are just two families working together. Rarely three, and none divide the work as finely as Los’s group. Father, why is that?”

“Why?”

A bitter smile appeared on Thor’s face.

“Erik, if your family worked with another, who would you have plow and who would break the clods?”

“Father,” Erik asked confused, “didn’t we hand over all our land to serfs?”

“Ahem, alright.” Thor cleared his throat. “If your uncle’s family worked with another, who would you let plow and who break clods?”

“Hmm…”

Erik fell silent, deep in thought.

“Los’s way of teaching Richard and the others isn’t easy to learn,” Thor said softly. “But it’s alright. There’s only so much work in the village. If you learn it, it gets a little easier. If not, it’s a bit harder. Either way, it gets done every year.”

Several hundred meters away from Wu Qingchen’s group, just beyond a few bends where the clerk and his son had been, stood a short tree beside a panting, skinny ox. Two plow carts lay tilted in the muddy field, and on the embankment, four figures slumped weakly.

“Huff, huff,” a farmwife panted, turning toward her husband. “Maybe we should agree with Kenneth. The children and oxen are all too tired.”

“Huff, huff.”

The husband sat up with effort.

“Agree to what?”

“To work together like Los and Richard’s families!”

“Hmph!” The husband snorted.

“What’s the use of hoping?”

“Aren’t you brothers?”

“Brothers who stole two chickens the day before the family split? Brothers who wouldn’t lend a handful of wheat when my nephew went two days without food?”

“Ah,” the wife sighed deeply and fell silent.

“Besides,” the husband continued without stopping, “you know Kenneth’s wife. Working together? Hmph, do you want to pull the plow alone? Want our ox to do all the work?”

The wife nodded silently.

After a moment, the husband comforted her with a pat.

“Alright, don’t worry too much. It’s not the first summer season. The work’s here every year. We’ve always gotten through it. What’s different this year?”

Across the hill from this quarreling couple was another weary family.

Tenderly wiping sweat from the ox’s back, the eldest son looked toward the head of the household.

“Father, this can’t go on. Tonight, I’ll go find Uncle Clark.”

“Sigh.”

“Find what?”

The father sighed again, about to speak, when the younger son, full of anger, shouted out:

“If anyone should go, it should be Clark coming to us! His wife and son are clearly shirking! Why? Is it wrong to scold them? His family finished plowing while we haven’t finished the last plot. And yet it’s our fault?”

“Tsk, look at what you say!”

The father glared at the younger son. “Do you think no one noticed? When helping Clark’s family plow, you did the least work! Besides, if we didn’t work together, could we have finished our last plot?”

“That’s because—”

“Enough, enough!” The father cut off the younger son’s excuses and faced the eldest son again.

“If you want to go, ask tonight. But last time, Clark was really angry. It won’t be easy to get him to agree again.”

“We should be angry!”

The younger son shouted again.

“If he won’t, then fine! There’s only so much work. It’s the same every year. No one ever dies from it!”

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