Chapter 1981: Camouflage is good, camouflage is what I want!

The autumn sun was scorching, and golden waves were rolling.

Gao Yang stood on the ridge of the field, his gaze sweeping over the faces of the Ping'an Manor farmers, full of awe and expectation.

Those burning eyes were all focused on him.

The autumn harvest was the most sacred and anticipated moment for farming families all year round.

This meant food for the winter, expenses for the family for the New Year, and whether life would be bitter or not in the coming year!

And before the harvest, there must be an ancient ritual—opening the sickle!

The head of the family must be the first to enter the field, with an elder from the village praying for blessings, and swing the first sickle to seek the protection of the gods for a bountiful harvest.

This was considered a very important ritual in Da Qian!

"Young Master, the time has come."

Old Steward Zhou came to Gao Yang's side and bowed respectfully.

Gao Yang nodded and turned to walk into the temporary straw shed.

He took off his brocade robe and changed into the coarse cloth clothes prepared by the farmers. Immediately after, the oldest "ritual woman" in the manor came over, trembling, carrying a pottery bowl with prepared ocher oil paint.

To tell the truth, the ritual woman's hands were shaking.

The rim of the bowl made a faint sound as it bumped while she walked.

Heavens!

She was actually going to apply oil paint to the Living Yama? And dance a blessing dance in front of him?

Wasn't this showing off in front of the Living Yama?

Who in the world didn't know that the Living Yama had killed people in Suiyang County, killed so many sorcerers, and used boiling water to scald chickens to treat officials' fake and real deaths, becoming famous throughout the world.

Thinking of this, the ritual woman couldn't help but shake more.

She explained cautiously, "Head of the family, this is a rule passed down by ancestors. The first person to open the sickle must 'dye with dust and connect with the earth's energy, praying for the gods' protection for a bountiful year."

"Hmm."

"But, what are you shaking for?"

Gao Yang glanced at her, full of curiosity.

"Shaking? No... not shaking!"

The ritual woman pretended to be calm and, with fingers like withered branches, dipped into the thick ocher paint, solemnly drawing three vertical lines on Gao Yang's forehead symbolizing land, sun, and rain, and then dotted a circle on each cheekbone, symbolizing a bountiful harvest.

"Head of the family, it's done."

Gao Yang nodded faintly.

He then stood up. The oil paint was cool, and the scent of earth drilled into his nose, as if he were truly more deeply connected to this piece of land under his feet.

"My turn, my turn."

Seeing this, Gao Changwen eagerly crowded to the front.

For him, this was a first-time life experience.

The sorrows of a youth come and go quickly.

At the very least, Gao Changwen had already forgotten his grand ambitions, leaving only the goal of taking revenge on the dog.