A Farm Girl: Three Acres of Fertile Land Can Be Exchanged for a Country

Chapter 50 A Gentle Beauty

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Nanxing was washing his face in the room. Although he was a beggar and didn't talk much, he was extremely particular about everything he did.

The towel should be folded neatly, and water should be poured in little by little to wipe the face clean.

He washed his face without spilling a single drop of water, and it was all done silently. If this were in modern times, it could be used as a model of etiquette for the descendants of nobles.

Wutong was lost in her own thoughts and didn't pay attention to him. Nanxing, however, put down the towel and ran over to her, asking her what she wanted to eat for breakfast.

He was only seven or eight years old, and more than a head shorter than Wutong. He had to look up at her when he spoke, but he didn't give off any childish feeling. He was like a mature adult.

Wutong belatedly looked at him and said slowly, "I... don't have much of an appetite, you eat by yourself."

Nanxing said with dissatisfaction, "No."

Wutong said, "I really have no appetite, I want to sleep some more..."

Nanxing said firmly, "Eat first, then sleep!"

Wutong gave up and said she wanted to drink porridge.

Nanxing hopped out like a rabbit and returned with a food box in no time.

The two sat down facing each other and began to drink porridge.

Nanxing picked up the spoon, but her hand was unsteady, and it fell onto the table with a clatter.

Luckily, the spoon was made of wood.

Wutong finally noticed him and saw that his hand was wrapped in bandages, and he seemed to be injured.

"Let me see." She frowned and held out her hand.

Nanxing put her hands behind her back, held the spoon with her left hand, and said while drinking the porridge as if nothing was wrong, "It's nothing serious."

Wutong then remembered that yesterday was not only her first time seeing a battlefield, but also Nanxing's, and Nanxing was even older than her.

A feeling of pity welled up inside me, mixed with guilt.

Wutong grabbed a steamed bun from the food box and stuffed it into his hand: "Eat more."

Nanxing looked up at her and silently took a bite.

Around noon, Abudo returned home laden with his loot.

Hunting restored his confidence. He had the prey thrown into the kitchen, then, with his broadsword slung across his shoulder, he walked toward his room.

"General..."

A voice came from a certain direction. He stopped and turned his head to look. A thin figure was standing there.

It is a Chinese parasol tree.

Abudo recalled what had happened a couple of days ago, and a strange look flashed across his face. However, after years of fighting on the battlefield, he had long since developed the ability to remain expressionless.

He cleared his throat and asked calmly, "What is it?"

Wutong licked her lips and said, "I have a request... Could you teach me how to use a knife?"

She suffered a great loss in yesterday's battle and was almost killed.

I always thought that as long as you were willing to risk your life in a fight, even if you couldn't kill the enemy, you could at least scare them away.

But on the battlefield, who doesn't fight with their life on the line? This approach is completely ineffective.

As long as she continues to serve in the army and earn a living, she will inevitably have many opportunities to fight to the death. She must train hard to make her martial arts skills surpass most people, and at least have one or two ways to save her life, so that she can live a long life.

This morning, after much thought, she realized that the only person she could consult was Abuduo.

Abdo narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her: "You're going to use a knife? Not the short sword?"

Wutong nodded: "I think the knife is much more powerful."

Especially when riding a horse, before the short sword can even pierce the opponent, the blade has already swept across a large area.

Abdo scoffed, whether mocking her viewpoint or her desire to use a knife, it was unclear.

Wutong had just been suspected by him, and became even more reserved.

Suddenly, a heavy black shadow flew towards her. She took half a step back and hurriedly caught it, almost being pulled to the ground by the thing.

It's Abdo's large machete, made of wrought iron, weighing nearly 100 pounds. The blade is broad and long, with a forked edge on the back, giving it a very imposing look.

It took the sycamore tree a lot of effort to lift it up.

Abdo said, "If you can't even lift a knife, how can you use it?"

“You are exceptionally talented. Once I learn the swordsmanship, I can use an ordinary sword,” Wutong said breathlessly.

Abdo nodded very slowly: "Okay, come on."

The courtyard is spacious and deserted, making it a great place to practice dancing.

Abdo walked towards the woodpile, kicked it, and a piece of firewood flew into his hand.

With a shout, firewood was chopped forward, cutting through thorns and brambles.

Wutong gritted his teeth, raised his knife, and imitated the other's actions, swinging it with great effort.

"The knife strikes with a heavy, powerful motion, like a tiger pouncing on its prey. The strike must be swift and forceful, and it is essential that the person wields the knife, not the knife wielding the person. Only then can one be considered to have mastered the basics."

Abdo, carrying firewood, walked over to her and gently tugged at her arm: "Don't shake!"

Wutong groaned incessantly; she didn't want to shake it either, but his knife was just too heavy...

She gritted her teeth and persevered, but her strength was limited. In less than thirty seconds, she collapsed to the ground, knife and all.

Abdo casually tossed the firewood aside, picked up his knife, and easily slung it over his shoulder: "If you can't even lift a knife, then don't use one."

Just like a girl who chooses to join the army instead of getting married, what good is it if she occasionally achieves merit in battle? She'll suffer a lot of losses in the future.

Wutong sat up, her eyes a little red: "But I want to live."

Abudo paused slightly, then stopped in his tracks as he turned to leave.

Wutong wiped her eyes and said, "I don't want to go back to where I was. I want to stay in the army. Only here do I feel like I'm still a normal person. General, didn't you stay here because you like it? There are some things I can't do now, but I can try my best instead of standing there waiting for someone to kill me."

She stood up, ran to Abdo, picked up the piece of firewood, and said, "Will this work for me? Please teach me, I promise I won't let you down."

Abdo looked down at her; beneath the military cap was a clean face, and the sleeve had slipped down, revealing a slender arm.

Men and women have very different bone structures. Even if both are thin, no matter how short a man is, you can see a bunch of bones sticking out.

But women are different.

Slender, petite, delicate and fragile, she will become a gentle beauty once she gains weight.

How come he didn't notice it at all before?

Abdo lowered his eyelids. He had thick hair and long, thick eyelashes that covered his eyes like a large leaf.

His tone was calm and serious; he felt he had never been so earnest in his life.

"Don't regret it."

Why are there no women in the military? Because it's not suitable for women.

Seeing that he had changed his mind, Wutong smiled happily, her eyes turning into two crescent moons, and nodded vigorously: "Yes!"

Abudo glanced at the sky and began to teach her the moves one by one.

The sycamore tree was extremely grateful and didn't want to miss a single moment.

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End of this chapter