Clark was shocked and quickly used his super strength to catch the bass that was already flopping on the ground.
Bruce took a breath and touched the side of his cheek. His face didn't hurt, but the wound on his neck began to ooze blood again.
Clark had no choice but to run to the service station in the market, get a first aid kit and bandages, and help Bruce re-bandage his wounds.
"Sorry, our medical conditions here are relatively limited. You should have that magical spray that heals in one spray in your suitcase, right?" Clark said while wrapping a bandage.
"Isn't there a hospital in this town?" Bruce asked.
"Yes, there are, but there are too many people." Clark shook his head and said, "If we go now, we conservatively estimate that we should be able to get there before September next year."
Just as Bruce was about to speak, Clark guessed what he was going to say, so he said: "Private medical insurance is useless. There is only one general practitioner, one intern and one head nurse in the whole town. The big boss of the insurance company is here."
, you also have to queue up.”
Bruce didn't say anything, just shook his head slightly. He was not that arrogant, criticizing the lack of medical resources here from the perspective of a Gothamite or a rich man.
Kansas is originally an agricultural state, and most of the cities here are not developed enough. Not to mention Gotham, one of the largest cities on the East Coast, there is still a certain gap when compared with cities in other central states.
Now, Bruce understands that everything has good and bad. Gotham is developed, but development also brings an extremely fast-paced life. In a place where even gangsters need to be involved, there is no need to drive a tractor leisurely.
What about visiting the market?
After bandaging his neck, Clark hurriedly wanted to go back and let Bruce use the magical bat spray he brought to heal the wound on his neck, but Bruce didn't seem to be in a hurry at all, and he proposed to go to the used goods
The market turns.
Clark looked a little surprised, and Bruce shook his head slightly and said: "Last night, the first night I came here, Gordon called me and said that the Falcone family and Roy took the initiative to mediate the conflict.
, and both parties asked Gordon to convey their greetings and told me to have a good rest and avoid leaving any sequelae."
Bruce sighed and said: "Sometimes, what can prove your existence is not your existence, but your disappearance."
"When you exist, no one is aware that you exist, or they feel confident because you exist. But when you disappear or almost disappear, they realize how important your existence is."
Clark laughed and said, "Thank you. Now I don't have such a big psychological burden on asking for leave from the newspaper."
The two of them walked to the flea market together, and Clark continued: "My report did create a trend. Many metropolitan citizens are very curious about the mysterious city next door to them."
"I originally wanted to take this opportunity to add fuel to the fire and write a few more reports, but on the phone, both Jonathan and Martha disapproved of my doing so. Jonathan hoped that I could take a long vacation and come back to spend time with my family."
Bruce turned to look at him with some doubts in his eyes. Clark sighed and looked forward and said: "There are many moments like this in my life. I want to bravely open up and keep moving forward, but Jonathan
But Martha and I persuaded me to come back."
"Later, I discovered that they were right. The most difficult thing in this world is not to go with the flow, but to retreat bravely from the rapids."
"In the complicated river of media, it is actually not difficult to get more, newer, and more explosive news. What is difficult is how to live up to one's conscience at all times and not to exaggerate for the sake of eyeballs or to get more news.
Further and false reports.”
"When a report is published and catches the public's attention and attracts everyone's attention, others will naturally dig deeper. Everyone digs deeper than others, and when the truth has bottomed out
, all that’s left is falsehood and fabrication.”
"Are you going to fabricate it?" Bruce asked, but his tone was full of disbelief. From what he knew about Clark, he was a person who couldn't lie.
"I don't know." Clark shook his head and said, "But Jonathan and Martha have been avoiding this situation. They don't regard me as a perfect god who can't make mistakes. They are afraid that I will take the wrong path.
I hope I can be the rein that holds me back from the brink.”
Bruce felt his heart beat a little, and he seemed to think of someone and fell into deep thought.
Clark showed a smile, lowered his eyes and said: "I am very lucky that they are there every time I make a key choice, although it may seem to you that my life is too mediocre and I am not there when any miracles may happen.
, make decisive choices, but at least avoid being self-defeating and hurting other people.”
"...We're here." Bruce raised his head and glanced at the flea market sign with a sunflower pattern engraved on it.
The two walked in, and Bruce discovered that this place was very different from the flea market in Gotham used to sell stolen goods. Most of the second-hand goods here were farm tools and various farm machinery accessories, and even some livestock.
.
Clark pointed to a straw hat hanging on an old clothes hanger in one of the stalls, and said excitedly: "Look, we don't have to take turns wearing hats when we go back. Hello, how much does this hat cost?"
"Buy something else and I'll give it to you for free." The fat farmer, smoking a cigarette and with red skin, said, "Isn't this little Kent? Didn't your father scold you for not wearing a hat when you went out?"
Several farmers around him began to laugh loudly. Clark waved his hand and said shyly: "Don't be like this. I'm not a child anymore. I'm already working."
"Yes, we all know that you became a reporter at a big newspaper in a big city. That is an amazing job. When are you going to report on our small town?"
"Let's wait until another meteorite falls."
Clark took out a roll of money from his washed wide-leg jeans that were a little white, counted out a few and handed them to the stall owner in front of him. He took two cigarette holders and the hung straw hat from his stall, and then
He waved his hand.
Bruce was curious about everything he looked at. He pointed at the machine on one of the stalls and asked, "What is this for?"
"Plower."
"What about this?"
"Sowing."
"this?"
"Harvest."
Bruce kept turning his head, staring at those huge tractor parts with some fascination.
The complex steel structure on it, the sharp blade, and the metal shaft that opens and closes, shine brightly under the sun, like the cold light flashing from the blade when humans kill the god who blesses good weather.
Until he got back on the tractor, Bruce still seemed a little absent-minded. Clark pushed him twice, and Bruce turned his head and looked at him in a daze and said, "If I plant the seed in the ground, it will grow out and then become something new."
Into food, right?”
"Theoretically, that's the case," Clark replied.
"Why theoretically?"
Clark pursed his lips, and Bruce saw a sad expression on his face, which he rarely showed. The young man from the small town said:
"I used to think so too. Land is the most reliable thing in the world. As long as you sow, you will reap."
"But later, I discovered that not every piece of land is so lucky. Sowing seeds with full expectation, waiting for growth in a stable manner, harvesting food, and filling your stomach. This process is actually a kind of luxury."
“The vast plains of my hometown are one of the few places in the world where you can reap abundant harvests just by planting food. However, the land owned by most countries in the world does not have such good conditions, or even if it has good conditions,
Even with such natural conditions, good seeds cannot be grown.”
Bruce also fell silent. Apparently both of them thought of the same thing. Bruce thought for a moment and then asked: "How is Oliver?"
Clark didn't have many friends named Oliver, so he knew that Bruce was referring to Green Arrow. Clark nodded and said, "He's not bad. Guadalajara is actively fighting for autonomy. They actually control a large area of land."
, and are now in confrontation with the local government.”
"Of course, the domestic media calls them the largest terrorist organization in Mexico so far. To the U.S. and Mexican governments, they are indeed a terrorist organization. They have killed many people, but to the people of Guadalajara, they are
A defender of the land."
Bruce fell into deep thought again, so although the sun was still shining brightly on the way back to the city, the atmosphere seemed a bit silent.
The silence ended with Clark recounting to Jonathan and Martha in the living room how Bruce had been slapped by the bass.
Jonathan laughed heartily. He patted the back of the sofa and said, "I told you, this is a mistake every young boy makes. Your mother still doesn't believe it! When we went fishing in the Mississippi River, my cousin and I were caught by a huge
The black bass was caught in the water, and I was laughed at by your mother for more than half a year."
Martha, who looked a little thin, chopped off the fish head with a sharp knife, and the "thud" sound made the three men in the living room tremble instinctively.
But the beautiful lady still said in such a gentle and gentle tone: "Before setting off, I told you not to target those big fish. It is very dangerous. Everyone agreed, and we will catch them when we get on the boat."
Their expressions changed, and everyone was clamoring to be the fish king today."
"Comparison is also a lesson that every young man must go through." Jonathan tried to add.
About half an hour later, Martha's voice came from the kitchen: "Okay, bring the food to the table. You must be waiting impatiently, right?"
Clark walked over first, and he first brought the heaviest basin of pea soup and a large plate of fish-filled pie to the table. Jonathan came to the table with fried fish fillets, baked chicken, and Caesar salad.
Bruce stood at the door of the kitchen, looking a little at a loss. He didn't know if he should go in. He was worried that the strength his arms now had was not enough to let Birosco and cinnamon rolls reach the table smoothly.
In the end, it was Clark who helped him out. His tall figure squeezed into the kitchen, brought the last few dishes to the dining table, and pulled Bruce to sit down.
The dining atmosphere in the Kent family is very different from Wayne Manor. Everyone in the Kent family likes to talk at the dinner table and laugh from time to time.
Bruce was indeed not used to talking while eating, but what troubled him even more was Martha's somewhat terrifying frequency of dividing dishes.
This lady, like every mother in the world, will always have one worry - will her child not have enough to eat?
Martha was extraordinarily caring. She attached great importance to the first friend Clark brought home, for fear that he would not have enough to eat.
Bruce tried his best to stuff food into his mouth, but to no avail.
Looking at the mountain-high pile of vegetables on his dinner plate, Bruce finally understood why Bat Cat had become as fat as a ball after only being here for a few months.
Finally some sunshine
This chapter has been completed!