The two people waiting in front to press rice stalks also couldn't help but glance at the large bag in Qiaoqiao's hands—it was quite unusual to see someone bring thirty or forty catties of rice to press along with the stalks in this rural area over decades.
So strange!
A sneak photo of the bag!
Meanwhile, Old Zhou was strolling leisurely with his hands behind his back, Xiaoqi trailing beside him and joining in the fun. Just as both were feeling relaxed, suddenly a voice rang out: "Here it comes—here it comes—"
The next moment, a loud, muffled bang exploded right by their ears—
"Bang!"
In an instant, everyone tensed alertly, spinning around swiftly. Backs were closing in tightly, and hands instinctively reached toward their waists...
Just then, the laughter of children came from the side:
"Oh! Oh! Oh! It's ready! It's ready!"
"Time for puffed rice!"
"My mom says this is called 'mihua' where she comes from!"
"My grandma says it's just called 'popcorn!'"
