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

Wutong rubbed her neck, looking embarrassed. "I was planning to just take a look and leave last night, but I was too sleepy..."

"You were so tired, why didn't you ask the guards to carry you back? Don't do that again."

Wutong was a little surprised by Wenxin's stern demeanor, so she quickly changed the subject, saying, "Let's go eat. Have you eaten yet?"

Just after she finished speaking, she caught a glimpse of someone sitting at the foot of the bed out of the corner of her eye. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was Li Deming.

"Lord Li, when did you arrive?" Wutong asked in surprise.

Li Deming looked haggard, with stubble covering half his face, and his voice was low and hoarse.

"Last night."

So... he came as soon as she fell asleep? He didn't make a sound.

Thinking about how she had slept half the night in front of him, Wutong awkwardly touched her face, stood up, and asked, "Has the master eaten yet? Why don't we go together?"

Li Deming shook his head, looking at Duan Fufeng on the bed: "I'm not hungry."

Just as Li Deming understood Wutong, Wutong also understood Li Deming's temperament. He only obeyed Duan Fufeng, and no one else could command him except Duan Fufeng.

So he stopped trying to persuade her and walked out of the room with Wenxin, planning to have someone bring some food over to Li Deming later.

The dining hall was the prefect's residence, spacious and bright, with the table laden with dishes carefully prepared by the chef.

During the months of war, Wutong was already lucky to have enough to eat each day, and had no time to care about the food. Back in this luxurious and exquisite room, looking at the fragrant dishes, he should be very hungry.

But she was still not very interested. She ate one bun and drank half a bowl of porridge, but then she had no appetite for anything else.

Looking at her increasingly pointed chin, Wenxin frowned and pushed the plate toward her: "Eat some more."

Wutong said, "I'm already full."

"Is it because of him that you have no appetite?" Wenxin suddenly asked.

Wutong paused for a few seconds, then quickly said, "It has nothing to do with him, I just didn't want to eat it."

Ask yourself: "Do you know who he is?"

The wutong tree was speechless.

She didn't realize it was him, but she subconsciously assumed he was with Duan Fufeng.

What is this called?

Covering one's ears to steal the bell is deceiving oneself and others.

Wenxin put down his chopsticks and looked at her intently, his eyes filled with a sadness he himself was unaware of.

"Tell me the truth, you've fallen in love with Duan Fufeng, haven't you?"

Wutong was startled by his sudden question and quickly looked to both sides, worried that someone might have heard.

He said unhappily, "Stop looking, there's no one else here."

Therefore, she only needs to tell him the truth and stop comforting him with kind lies.

But the sycamore tree kept its head down, a posture that suggested it had something to say but couldn't.

The two sat motionless at the table, as if they were competing in patience.

After a long pause, Wutong spoke truthfully, her voice timid, like a child who had done something wrong.

"I don't know what to do... When I don't see him, I never think about him. But once I see him, I can't erase his presence from my mind. Is this love or hate?"

She raised her head, her eyes visibly red-rimmed, her skin tanned a bit in the past few months, and her face bearing several scratches from weapons.

With a lump in his throat, he nodded and said with difficulty, "It is love."

"How do you know? He did that to me, I should hate him."

I have nothing to say.

How did he know it was love? Because that's exactly how he loved her.

Seeing the pain in his eyes, Wutong dared not continue the conversation. She quickly ate another bun, got up, and went back to her room to rest.

Wenxin had nothing to say, and she quickly walked out the door, only to see Li Deming standing outside. She paused for a moment and asked, "Lord Li, is there something you need?"

Li Deming shook his head and turned to leave.

Thinking about the look in his eyes just now, Wutong felt that he had something to say.

She planned to take a nap after returning to her room, but Adan sent someone to call her to discuss post-war matters.

Wutong then led them to his study in the mansion to discuss important matters.

While they were busy, Li Deming sent many people to find a miracle doctor for Duan Fufeng in an attempt to revive him.

Sometimes when Wutong was tired and stood in the courtyard to bask in the sun, she could see guards leading people who looked like doctors hurriedly by, and they would often hurry away again not long after.

Wutong recalled the time when she injured her right hand. She had also sought out famous doctors all over the world, but she couldn't find anyone who could save her.

Will Duan Fufeng end up like she once was?

The more doctors passed by, the more worried Wutong became. When things were finally almost settled, she couldn't help but go to Duan Fufeng's room. She opened the door and saw him lying quietly on the bed, just as she had when she left.

It was as if no matter how long it took for her to return, he would greet her exactly the same way.

Li Deming was holding a bowl of medicine. Hearing the voice, he turned around, saw it was her, and stood up, saying, "Your Majesty."

Wutong wasn't used to him addressing her like that, but now that she was the King of Dongqi, it didn't matter what title she was given.

She went in, stood by the bed, looked at Duan Fufeng, and asked, turning her head to ask, "Is there any improvement?"

Li Deming shook his head, his expression somber.

He looked even more haggard than before, and his beard, which hadn't been shaved for many days, had grown a tuft of goatee.

Wutong's gaze swept over his bruised eye bags. She wanted to offer some comfort, but couldn't find anything useful to say, so she gave up.

Someone like Li Deming probably doesn't need a few useless words of comfort.

She looked away and said softly, "If there's anything I can help with, just let me know, and Dong Qi will definitely lend a hand."

Li Deming smiled, but it was a forced smile.

"If someone had told me while I was in the southern border that you would one day become the King of Eastern Qi and conquer the Central Plains, I would not have believed it."

Wutong raised her left hand, revealing a scar running from front to back on her palm and the back of her hand, left by Tuotuo'er with a horsewhip.

"Mo, I don't even believe it myself."

"Do you know what the prince was like when he first came to the Southern Frontier?"

"Your Majesty?"

Li Deming nodded. "When the prince came to the Southern Frontier, he was not yet twenty years old. I was one of the first subordinates he selected, and also the only one who stayed by his side from beginning to end."

Wutong said thoughtfully, "No wonder he trusts you so much."

"Is Your Majesty free today?" Li Deming pointed to the stool and said, "I'm free too, why don't we sit down and chat?"

Wutong said, "How do you know I'm willing to listen to you talk about him?"

Li Deming shook his head: "I don't know."

Meeting his gaze, Wutong couldn't bring herself to leave, and finally sat down on the chair.

Li Deming sat on the edge of the bed, stirring the scalding hot medicine in the bowl with a spoon. White steam rose in bursts, and amidst the swirling white mist, he recalled that scene from more than a decade ago.