The barn at Kent Farm is a modern, integrated barn, where cows and pigs share the sa space. Including calves, there are just five cows, while the number of pigs is greater, occupying more than half of the space. These two adjoining barns are perfectly sufficient for them.
Cows and pigs are not the main source of production at Kent Farm. The most important livestock on the farm are the sheep, of which there are more than two hundred. Half of these are sheep that produce wool, the other half are at sheep, subdivided into two separate pens.
Originally, during the last mating season, more than a hundred ewes beca pregnant, but the majority of the lambs have already been sold.
For their chosen breed, Kent Farm breeds are very superior. Therfore, their lambs are in high demand. This is the farm's main source of inco from livestock, so Jonathan just kept two lambs who are still with their mother.
Bruce crouched at the door of the barn, observing. The two lambs were already asleep. They were not newborns and had grown a lot, hence their woolly appearance, loking extrely cute. Clark walked into the barn, picked one of them up, and handed it to Bruce.
Bruce didn't know how to hold a lamb, but he knew how to hold Aisha, so he held the lamb around its waist and nestled it into his arms. The warmth of the young life increased his body temperature and made him more drowsy.
Afterward, they saw a calf in the cow pen. The calf was much more lively, constantly moving round and round in the barn, its four hooves successively hitting the ground.
Seeing Clark approaching, the calf instinctively recoiled as if it was scared. Clark showed an embarrassed expression and said, "You may not believe it but animals are a little afraid of . I'm much more efficient than a sheepdog."
A scene of Clark herding the sheep into the pen while running entered Bruce's mind, almost causing him to lose control of his facial expression.
Bruce reached out and caressed the calf's moist nose through the fence, and it woke him up a bit. He then turned to Clark and asked, "You said you're going to do farm work, right? Where's the fodder?"
Clark gave him an up-and-down glance and said, "You're not really planning to work, are you? Your injury hasn't healed yet. You can go to the haystack over there and rest, even sleep. By the ti you wake up, the job will be done."
"I didn't co out here to sleep." Bruce shook his head and declined the offer. Picking up a pitchfork, he started to head to the other side of the barn. As Clark closed the door of the cow pen, he asked him, "Where are you going?"
"From the architectural structure, the building we just passed on the edge should be the warehouse. I'm going to work," Bruce answered back without turning his head.
Clark looked rather helpless. He took a leap, grabbed Bruce's waist, and flew up with him.
Clark flew with Bruce to a tall haystack, placed him there and said, "I won't let you ss around. It's not just for your own safety but also for the fodder we've worked hard to collect. You have to watch do it first, then you can try."
Bruce grimaced, disagreed with him, and sat cross-legged on top of the tallest stack of hay, his arms crossed, glaring at Clark in mid-air.
"This place is a deterrent for Bat Cat to combat cri while I'm working. It can't co down, so don't even think about it"
With that said, Clark shrugged, picked up the pitchfork next to Bruce and went to prepare the fodder.
Bruce surveyed the surroundings. He found out that Clark was right. This place was very high, and there wasn't any cushioning platform to soften any jumps. Even with the leaps of a cat, escaping would be a slim chance, let alone for humans.
Bruce was initially planning to stop Clark, but he saw that Clark was busy. He would roll in the compressed haystack then roll it out, then load it onto a cart with a hayfork and pitchfork, and then unload it.
In a few short minutes, Clark went back and forth dozens of tis. His repetitive and rhythmic actions were sowhat hypnotic. After watching for a few minutes, Bruce found it hard to open his eyes.
The place wasn't exactly a comfortable place to sleep. The hay was too hard, and there was a strange sll mixed with the odour of animal dung and the rotting aroma of the barn rafters. It was potent enough to make one lose their sense of sll at once.
Bruce wasn't sure where he got a sense of security from, sleeping in a place that would have surely been considered a high-risk environnt in the past.
Perhaps it was Clark's overwhelming strength that gave anyone, no matter how frail, extra confidence. Bruce didn't even realise when he fell asleep.
When he woke up, he was greeted by glaring sunlight. The bright morning light filtered through the curtains that had not been drawn properly, warming with its heat a strip of his covers.
Bruce squinted his eyes; his brain wasn't fully awake when Jonathan ca in with a hot cup of milk and ascended to the loft where Bruce was resting. The middle-aged father with glasses placed the milk on Bruce's bedside table and said to him:
"Good Morning. How did you sleep last night? When Clark brought you back last night, we thought sothing had happened. Thankfully, you were just sleeping."
Bruce felt a bit embarrassed. Perhaps it was because the narrow attic space was crowded with two robust n. Although Jonathan had no aggressive posture, Bruce felt uneasy.Just after this thought surfaced, Jonathan imdiately took two steps back towards the attic staircase. Only his head was visible as he smiled at Bruce and said, "You can sleep in a bit longer. Breakfast will be ready soon, and I'll have Clark call you."
After Jonathan left, Bruce didn't feel sleepy anymore. He glanced at the clock hanging overhead; it was 7 o'clock in the morning, and they had left for the barn last night at the sa ti. That ant he had slept for nearly 12 hours.
Bruce hastily climbed out of bed. His pajamas from his suitcase had been put on him, and his original clothes were nowhere in sight. But placed on the bedside was a set of Clark's clothes. Soft to the touch, smooth on the surface, and faintly warm as if they had just been ironed.
Clark was only slightly taller than Bruce, but was much more robust. Bruce was already extrely strong among human males, but Clark's strength was beyond human.
Without overthinking it, Bruce changed into the clothes. As soon as he descended the stairs, Martha let out an astonished sound.
"My goodness, look at him! Such a handso young man! I knew you'd look good in this baseball shirt I bought for Clark before he went to college. It is still in style!"
Bruce instinctively turned his head to one side. He really couldn't get used to Martha's enthusiasm, but soon enough, he experienced how exceptionally friendly Martha could be—or rather, it was just in her nature.
Martha quickly moved in front of Bruce and then to his backside, adjusting his collar and patting the back of his head, gesturing him to lower it. That way, she could adjust the collar to the right position.
However, as he lowered his head, the bandages around his neck beca more visible. Bruce waited for a while but found no changes in his collar. When he glanced back, he found Martha crying, her hand over her mouth.
"Oh, it's nothing, don't mind ," Martha sniffled, "Last night Clark was changing you into your pajamas, and he asked to prepare a new outfit, so I found his clothes and brought them to the attic."
"When Clark took off your shirt, I saw your terrible wounds. I was so scared that I nearly fell down the attic stairs....no one should suffer like this. it is horrifying."
Martha returned to Bruce's front, adjusted his collar again, and said: "I always remind the children in town that no matter how hard they fight outside, they should think about how much their injuries will make their parents cry."
"If one's goal of struggling isn't to bring happiness to themself and their family but to cause pain to themselves and worry their family, then what's the point of struggling?"
Bruce silently watched her. He rarely saw so many different emotions pile up on soone's face. The people he usually dealt with tended to mask their feelings, keeping a stoic face. Seeing any emotion on their faces was a rare occurrence.
What surprised Bruce more was that Martha didn't wallow in sadness for very long. In less than ten seconds, she wiped her tears with the back of her hand, smiled at him followed by: "Don't tell Clark I cried again. I cried last night, and both of them were distressed."
Martha wiped her tear-streaked hands on her apron and headed back to the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she told Bruce, "With such severe injuries, you must get hungry quickly. Breakfast will be ready soon. I'm adding two more dishes this morning, and you can have leftovers for lunch if there's too much."
Bruce stood there without knowing what to think for a while, but soon after, he heard a faint voice coming from behind the stairs. It seed like Clark was on the phone.
"Oh, is that so? That indeed may be tricky. City folks like you wouldn't understand things like the harvesting season of farm produce. How about this, I can make a trip back to tropolis...,"
"The only thing is, it will be sowhat troubleso. I have a good friend recuperating at my place. He's been injured, seriously injured, and needs care. If I'm not by his side, he might get distressed."
"Of course, I'd be more than happy to do that. It's indeed the best solution. But are you sure the curator can handle the farm environnt?"
"Oh, Lois, I'm not implying that city dwellers are delicate. It's just that these artists can be a bit... Oh really? That's amazing? Then of course, I'd be more than happy to welco her. Yes, I will go to pick her up."
After hanging up the phone, Clark stepped out and announced to Bruce, "We will have another new guest at the farm."
"My colleague from the tropolis newspaper, Lois, just called. She has a friend who used to work at the tropolitan Museum and now is the planner for the largest agricultural product exposition in tropolis. Lois is responsible for reporting on this exposition."
"However, from the exhibition team to the newspaper, no one knows about agricultural products or the developnt of agriculture in the tropolitan area. They know I was born and raised on a farm, and are hoping to get so help from ."
"If you weren't here, I could just fly back to tropolis. However, when they heard that I had a friend staying here, they decided to co and visit the farm to get so practical experience. After all, Kansas State is a benchmark for the agricultural products exposition."
Bruce nodded to indicate he understood. Clark scratched his head and said, "I am not sure what kind of person Lois's curator friend is. All I heard was that she's involved in the arts. I'm not that great at dealing with such individuals. They should arrive in the afternoon. Can you accompany to pick them up?"
Bruce nodded again. Clark handed over a note with a string of contact numbers and a na: curator of tropolis Museum — "Diana Prince".
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