Da Qin: I Really Don't Want to Be the Grand Master of Da Qin.

A good farmer would set up the mill in the south, and sow all the grains, and send letters to Sihuo. Sometimes he would come to see his daughter, and he would carry baskets and ju, and he would pay his millet, and his hat would be rectified. Vernal Equinox, March 21, 220 BC. Looking at the nearby farmers who were farming together, someone carrying square and round baskets filled with millet went to the fields to visit, as described by the book of poetry. I punched my waist which was a little sore from bending over for too long. Looking at the few old farmers about the same age as himself in the field, they were wiping their sweat with yellowed linen cloth and chatting to the family who came to deliver food in the field. Until now, Zhao Yang, who had just entered college, never dreamed that one day he would travel through ancient times and even have the opportunity to work in the fields with the farmers of Daqin. He pinched the aching blisters on his palms with his fingernails. Zhao Yang was completely despairing at the thought of farming another ten acres. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.