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

She didn't know how much time had passed when someone called her from behind.

"princess!"

She turned around and saw Duan Fufeng's personal bodyguard sitting in the car, waving at her.

"The prince has returned to the palace and needs to speak with you. Please return immediately."

Something?

Wutong thought something was wrong, so she quickly got into the carriage and rushed back to the palace.

Duan Fufeng sat in Nanxing's study waiting for her, the table piled high with various documents he had brought back from the military camp.

Wutong pushed open the door and entered, her hurried steps revealing her nervousness.

"What happened?"

Duan Fufeng said, "Nothing happened."

"Then why did you specifically ask someone to call me back?"

"Because I have a surprise for you to see." Duan Fufeng said, standing up and clapping his hands towards the cubicle.

Wutong looked over and saw a boy with big eyes and a pointed chin walking out from inside, looking at them with a curious expression. He was wearing a fur coat and a pair of leather boots.

He looked to be no more than seven or eight years old. He wasn't particularly tall or strong, but he had a very lively and energetic personality; he wasn't the introverted type.

Moreover, given his age, he already had a high nose bridge, round eyes with pointed corners, and thick, dark eyebrows, making him a spitting image of Duan Fufeng.

The moment she saw him, Wutong froze on the spot, not even knowing what to do with her hands.

Duan Fufeng walked up behind her, gently took her trembling hand, and whispered in her ear:

"Don't be nervous, talk to him."

He didn't introduce himself, but Wutong knew very well that he was definitely the person she was thinking of.

A mouse.

The mouse that almost drove her crazy has grown up.

She opened her mouth, mustered her courage to greet him, but he spoke first, his voice crisp and clear.

"Where are the Bashars?"

Wutong swallowed back the words she had just prepared and, responding to his question, asked, "You want to see him?"

The mouse nodded. Its face was prettier than a girl's, yet it had the fearless spirit of a newborn calf.

"Yes, he told me that he would give me a real gun as long as I came here, but I haven't seen him yet."

The sycamore tree smiles.

You like guns?

The mouse pulled a wooden pistol from behind its waist, made two "biu biu" sounds at her, and then proudly put its hands on its hips and blew on the muzzle.

"I'm going to be a sharpshooter someday. I can shoot birds ten feet away with a slingshot."

In just a few words, Wutong's mood changed from nervous to extremely fond, and she couldn't wait to rush up and hug him.

Seeing that the two were having a good chat, Duan Fufeng greeted her and left with his guards, leaving the two alone.

Wutong's gaze never left the other person's face.

"Who taught you how to use a slingshot?"

"Bashar, but his aim is terrible. I stopped learning from him when I was five."

"So who would you most like to learn from?"

“I want to…” Mouse touched his nose, his eyes lighting up, “I want to learn from the King of Dongqi. Bashar said she is the most powerful and can take a man’s head from a thousand troops with a single arrow.”

Wutong couldn't help but chuckle and pulled him down to sit.

"He's lying to you. There's no such person in the world."

The mouse was very unhappy, believing that she had insulted her idol.

"He wasn't lying to me; the King of Dongqi really is that powerful!"

Wutong felt her pockets, wanting to give him something to eat, but she hadn't even had the appetite to eat these past two days, so how could she possibly have food in her pockets?

Turning his head, he saw a stack of candied fruit on the desk, which Duan Fufeng had probably placed there on purpose, so he took it and gave it to Haozi to eat.

At first, the mouse refused to accept it, but after she persuaded it a couple of times, it finally looked at her with its eyes.

"Then tell me, isn't the King of Eastern Qi formidable?"

"Will you only eat it if I tell you it's amazing?"

"Humph."

"Okay, she's the best... Here, take this."

The mouse stuffed the candied fruit into its mouth, pretending not to care, but soon began to eat it with relish.

Wutong looked down at him, feeling a strange sensation.

He is a separate life, capable of speaking, running, and laughing.

But he carries the blood of her and Duan Fufeng in his veins, which creates an unbreakable bond between them from the moment he is born.

She was so heartbroken by his death that she couldn't sleep at night. It turned out that while she was crying, he was quietly growing up on the other side of the world.

She touched the mouse, but it was quite wary, raising its head to glare at her before walking away to eat.

Wutong seemed to see herself in the past, fearless and ambitious, even though she was weak and powerless.

"What's your name?" she asked softly.

The mouse, with a piece of candied fruit in its mouth, said, "Da Bao."

"Why is it called this name?"

“Bashar said I’m lucky and someone else’s darling, so he called me Da Bao (Big Treasure).” He blinked his bright eyes and asked, “What about you?”

"My name is Wutong."

"What a coincidence, the King of Eastern Qi was also named Wutong."

Wutong smiled and nodded.

"Yes, what a coincidence... Why do you always mention Bashar? Where are his parents?"

Da Bao swallowed the candied fruit and said, "They're all dead. They died fighting on the battlefield."

Wutong's smile gradually faded.

"Really? Are you hurt?"

“Don’t be sad, what’s there to be sad about?” Da Bao said calmly, “They are all heroes, great heroes who protect our country. When I grow up, I want to be a great hero too.”

His voice still had a childish quality, and his fair face reminded people of a fragile bean sprout. He wore a belt around the waist of his fur coat, as if he was deliberately showing off his two long legs.

Wutong offered him candied fruit, which he accepted without hesitation, popping them into his mouth one by one, his pale pink lips glistening with moisture.

When Wutong learned that Haozi had been secretly raised by Bashar all these years, she was actually very worried. Bashar had once been Yelü Qing's subordinate, and Yelü Qing had died at her hands; what if he harbored resentment all this time?

Now that you see the mouse living such a happy and carefree life, with its own aspirations, it proves that he took very good care of it.

Wutong felt relieved, opened the study door, and asked the guard to take him outside to play. She then called Duan Fufeng back and discussed the matter with him.

Duan Fufeng did not come alone; a tall and burly figure followed behind him.

The figure stopped in front of the sycamore tree and called out with great remorse:

"Your Majesty."

Wutong recognized him.

Bashar?

That makes sense; the rats are all here, so how could Bashar not be here?

"Your Majesty, please hit me. I should have told you when I took over his business, but I kept putting it off until now."

Wutong also wanted to ask him about this, so she stared at him and said, "Did you really not tell me just because you didn't have the chance? Or is it that... you didn't want to give it back to me at all?"

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