Drive it to the edge of the field, drill down, and the water flows into the field through the pipes. It's so much more comfortable now.

Drive it to the edge of the field, drill down, and the water flows into the field through the pipes. It's so much more comfortable now.

The land is good, but it's too far from the water source. How many times have you stood there watching? The seedlings wither, the leaves turn yellow, the soil cracks. Every time you want to irrigate, you have to pull the pipes from afar; the joints are loose, the pressure isn't enough, and after all that effort, you can only irrigate a few rows. In the end, you can only sigh, plant some drought-resistant crops, and make do with the harvest.

This time it's different. You drive the machine directly to the edge of the field. The soil where the wheels have passed is still the same, but you know that what's coming next will be different. The drill is erected and starts to go down. The sound is deafening, and you stand beside it, your palms sweating. One meter, two meters, three meters—it's reached its destination.

Water gushes out of the pipes, flowing into the field through the pipes you laid beforehand. Not drop by drop, but in gushes, gurgling and bubbling. The parched earth drinks deeply, and the wilted seedlings slowly straighten. You squat at the edge of the field, watching the water flow on its own, changing the soil's color and revitalizing the seedlings.

You don't have to do anything. The water pipes run for you, the water flows for you; you just need to squat there and watch. No need to carry shovels, no need to shoulder loads, no need to wade through the water. Under the blazing sun, you move to the shade of a tree and continue watching. The water continues to flow, the seedlings continue to drink, and the tension in your heart slowly eases.

Turn the pipes to the edge of the field, drill down, and the water flows into the paddy field, bringing comfort. With water, the land comes alive; with the land alive, you feel comfortable. This comfort isn't something you gain from resting; it's something the water brings for you.