Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Nightmare Assault
I, The Dragon Overlord
Loser System and Berserker Me
Horror Game Designer
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
Swear Fealty To Me, My Subjects!
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1176- Eighth
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 19
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 622: Natural Disasters and Man-made Calamities
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 325: City One Can't Leave
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 247: The Past is Like the Wind
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1175- Don't discriminate
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 946: Fatal Strike
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1174- Divide
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 18
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Chapter 78: This Fight Will Never End
The Demon King is Too Unfathomable!
Chapter 33: a.0.3 Update! Skills System
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 621: Meeting an Old Friend
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3829: An Answer
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 246: What are you Waiting For?
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 324: Flying Seeds
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1173- Crystal Pillar rankings
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1172- Sky Monument Path
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 945: Resisting the Mandate of Heaven (3)
Embracing the opportunity to earn additional copper coins, the father and son duo, now considerably wealthier with several silver coins jingling in their pockets, readily accepted the proposition.
After a brief deliberation, the father decided to undertake the less physically demanding task of corn shelling, while his robust son opted for the more lucrative labor at the new factory zone.
Led by the clerk to the shelling area behind the procurement point, the old farmer entered the backyard, expecting to see a group of individuals manually stripping corn cobs with wooden blocks—a common sight in rural communities where shelling was a communal, unpaid effort.
What he saw, though, confounded his rustic expectations. There were indeed many people seated in rows, surrounded by wooden basins, sacks of corn kernels, and piles of corn cobs. However, instead of wooden blocks, they wielded peculiar, palm-sized cylindrical tools.
When inserting a cob into the cylinder with one hand and cranking a handle with the other, kernels cascaded out with a satisfying clatter. The old farmer, with all his life's wisdom, only needed a moment to recognize the ingenious purpose of these strange contraptions and couldn't help marveling at their convenience.
If even such a mundane task like corn shelling could be revolutionized and made into child's play, what other marvels could the townsfolk possess?!
"Here for the odd jobs?" A young man, momentarily pausing from his task of sifting through shelled corn to remove bits of shell, greeted the farmer with a nod.
"Yes. Yes, sir," the farmer responded, somewhat intimidated by the young man's formidable physique, hurriedly bowing his head in respect.
"Don't be mistaken; I'm no 'sir,'" the young man replied, setting aside his winnowing basket and wiping his brow with a towel. He gestured for the farmer to approach. "Come, get your tools."
The farmer was handed a lightweight, portable hand-cranked corn sheller (a steal at just a fraction over 8 yuan per piece), a wooden basin, and a roll o
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Checkout my other novels:
I'm Really Not The Demon God's Lackey
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin