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

Wutong handed him the cup, lay down in bed, and closed her eyes.

An oil lamp was lit inside the tent, its light shining on her eyelids, so even with her eyes closed, her world remained a warm orange-red.

She couldn't see him, but she could feel him.

So powerful, so affectionate.

Time passed second by second, and Wutong suddenly opened her eyes and let out a long breath.

"What's wrong?" Duan Fufeng asked.

"Can't sleep."

What to do if you can't sleep? This place is remote and desolate, with nothing to do, not even a book to be found.

Duan Fufeng stared at the curtain in thought for a moment, then picked up the cloak that was placed to the side and tilted his head towards her.

"How about we go outside to see the night view?"

Wutong led troops into battle for so many years, and it was common for him to endure wind and rain and sleep in the open. He had seen the midnight moon and the morning star in the sky.

The night view was something she knew all too well.

But after Duan Fufeng mentioned it, she suddenly became very interested, asked him to help her put on her cloak, and went out with him.

Most of the guards had gone into their tents to sleep. They found a relatively clean open space to sit down, and Duan Fufeng sat behind her, half-embracing her, his broad arms holding her and her cloak in his arms.

Wutong's entire body was covered by the cloak, revealing only a small face.

Under the bright moonlight, her face was bathed in its glow, making her appear as beautiful as a rare and precious night-blooming cereus, which only blooms in the dead of night.

"You know what? After I saw you off, I would always wonder at night if you were looking at the same moon as me."

Still recovering from a cold, Wutong's voice was somewhat hoarse, making her words sound exceptionally meaningful.

Duan Fufeng, worried that she might catch a cold, pulled the cloak up even higher, almost covering half of her face, before stopping and replying, "No, I've been very busy."

Wutong didn't believe it. "They all say you're always thinking about me."

"They've misunderstood," Duan Fufeng argued. "I was just thinking about important matters in the southern border region; how could I be thinking about such personal feelings?"

Wutong squinted at him and said, "You've become bad."

"How to say?"

"You used to be cold and aloof, but you never lied. Now? You've got a whole set of lies."

Duan Fufeng chuckled.

"I really didn't lie."

Wutong snorted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"Are you angry?" He lowered his head slightly, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke.

Wutong remained silent.

"You're getting more and more cunning," Duan Fufeng said deliberately.

Sure enough, the sycamore tree raised its head.

"Fine, you lied, and now you're calling me cunning... you bastard."

Duan Fufeng was all smiles, almost a completely different person from the aloof prince he once was.

"Okay, I lied. I look at the moon every day, and I think of you every time you think of me."

Wutong said, "That's more like it."

Duan Fufeng pulled his arms closer, letting her tilt her head back and rest it on his shoulder. The two were like conjoined twins, intimately connected.

The sky and earth were vast and empty, and the moon seemed like a guiding light.

Have you ever heard that women tend to live longer than men?

"I've heard of it, so what?"

After Wutong finished speaking, she remembered what Nanxing had once told her and couldn't help but shudder.

Could it be that Duan Fufeng also has this kind of hobby, wanting to bury himself alive and be buried with him?

"So from now on, I will treat you very, very well, so that even if I leave in the future, you will definitely remember me."

Wutong said speechlessly, "What if I don't remember?"

"No, I'll make you remember."

Wutong couldn't stand his confidence and rolled her eyes.

Looking at the starry night sky above and the crimson Haoshan Mountain in the distance, she had a strange feeling.

It seemed as if the two of them had been sitting there for a long time, gazing at the moon, embracing each other carefree.

Unfortunately, happy times are always short-lived. When the night wind blew, Duan Fufeng used the excuse that she would catch a cold to send her back to the tent.

Once inside, he wouldn't leave; he insisted on watching Wutong until she fell asleep.

Wutong's thoughts were disturbed by him, so she couldn't fall asleep. She simply pulled him down to lie down with her and they chatted in whispers.

The two chatted about everything from the moon to southern Xinjiang, and then from southern Xinjiang to the Central Plains. Finally, out of nowhere, they recalled playing games together in the past.

Wutong confidently declared, "My marksmanship is already very good. If we play another round, I'm sure I'll get more kills than you."

Duan Fufeng smiled and patted her head.

"Then when we get back to southern Xinjiang, we'll go to the firing range and have a competition."

"Let's compete, but don't cry if you lose."

"..."

Before they knew it, drowsiness crept in, and they both fell asleep.

After Shan was sent away, she kept thinking about Wutong. She couldn't sleep well at night, and as soon as it was light, she would go into the tent to see if Wutong's illness was any better.

To her surprise, when she went in, she saw the two of them embracing. They were both so good-looking, and she was caught off guard and fed a mouthful of dog food (a Chinese slang term for witnessing public displays of affection).

It may look nice, but didn't he know that the phoenix tree had caught a cold?

How can I cover her properly with the blanket while holding her like this?

Besides, who knows what they might have done before falling asleep? If they did, wouldn't Wutong's condition worsen?

Thinking of this, Shan couldn't help but curse loudly.

"You've gone too far!"

The two were startled awake. Wutong looked at her groggily, with two faint bruises under her eyes, evidence of chatting for too long last night.

"Shan, why are you awake so early?"

Seeing this, Shan became even more certain of his guess and pointed at Duan Fufeng, saying, "Are you an animal? Don't you know she's sick?"

Duan Fufeng was baffled.

"what are you saying?"

Shan was about to start cursing again when Li Deming heard the commotion, rushed in, and pulled her out.

"You're yelling at the prince? Nonsense!"

Shan was unconvinced and wanted to rush in, but Li Deming forcibly dragged him away to have breakfast.

A short while later, the two emerged, dressed neatly. Wutong looked much better, though her face was still a little pale.

Seeing this, Shan calmed down, served her porridge, and kept urging her to eat more.

Duan Fufeng sipped his porridge slowly and deliberately. Li Deming glanced at him and reminded him:

"Your Highness, you should also take good care of your health."

It's the sycamore tree that's sick, not him. Why remind him?

Duan Fufeng was puzzled, but he nodded nonetheless.

Li Deming didn't say anything more, but he started thinking about whether he should find an excuse to stop them tonight.

After breakfast, the group set off again.

With the help of a car, they quickly returned to southern Xinjiang and arrived at Lingyun Prefecture.

On his first day back at the Prince's Mansion, Duan Fufeng summoned Wutong to his study and, in front of her, took out an exquisite wooden box.

"this is for you."

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