Hao Qingmeng transmigrated with a pocket dimension, landing in the middle of a refugee flight.
She picked up a frail young gentleman and led the villagers of Mao’er Village on the road to escape the famine.
The city gates were closed, and the authorities planned to leave the refugees to fend for themselves? No problem. She found them a mountain.
No houses? She’d build them.
No food? She’d forage in the mountains.
No grain? She had some.
No farming tools? She’d forge them.
No meat? She’d hunt in the mountains.
No clothes? She’d grow cotton.
Later, autumn arrived, and the terraced fields blanketing Heishui Mountain were full of plump, golden rice.
Vast fields of corn and sweet potatoes were ready for harvest.
And fruit trees stretched as far as the eye could see.
Wait, you’re living this well in a year of famine?
A possessive, competitive male lead versus a female lead who only wants to farm
It's well written. I like this kind of farming writing. The author's writing style is also good.