American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 130 The Unruly Clark? A Dramatic Change in Temperament! Clark!

Tuesday.

The joyful atmosphere of Homecoming continues to permeate the town of Smallville.

Today is a picnic, or rather:

Smallville Food Festival?
After school in the afternoon, Clark led Salafir out of the house.

"I'm home?"

Martha peeked halfway out from the kitchen doorway, her apron still covered in flour, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "Clark, we have your favorite tacos today, and the blueberry pie just came out of the oven. I made double the portion!"

Blueberry pie? Tacos?!

Clark's Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.

I can almost picture the crispy crust and the piping hot, sweet and sour filling, but...
He quickly turned his face away, not daring to look towards the dining table.

“Uh… thank you, Mom.” His voice was a little dry, almost mumbling, “But tonight… I probably won’t be eating at home. I have to go out.”

After saying that, he hurriedly ruffled Salafir's hair, turned around, and strode upstairs.

His silhouette even hinted at a hasty retreat.

"—?!"

Jonathan, who was fiddling with a robot model in the living room, suddenly looked up, and the pliers in his hand slipped from his grasp and fell onto the table.

Clark actually refused Martha's tacos? Especially since he also had his favorite blueberry pie?

This is even more unbelievable than hearing that Lex volunteered to feed the cows this morning!

See this
Locke, Dio, and Lex, who was sprawled on the sofa looking utterly hopeless, all turned their gazes toward Salafir, who had just entered, their eyes filled with questions.

She blinked her big, innocent eyes, then shrugged like an adult, spreading her little hands:
"Don't look at me, I don't know anything~"

But the sly smile he couldn't suppress couldn't be hidden from the people in the room.

"...You really don't know?" Locke raised an eyebrow.

This little guy came back with Clark, how could he not know?
"I really don't know!"

Salafir drew out the sound, but then chuckled.

The three remained silent.

This little guy definitely knows something, but it looks like we won't be able to get it out of him.

At dinner, Clark's seat was indeed empty.

Jonathan, munching on a taco, glanced worriedly towards the stairwell, muttering, "What's wrong with this kid..."

After the meal, he vented his anxiety on Lex.
Ignoring the other person's almost numb face, she dragged the young master off to undergo 'customized training at Kent Farm'.

Locke and Dio, however, had no interest in this at all.

The father and son nestled into the sofa in perfect unison, listlessly flipping through channels with the remote control, as if they were watching a silent performance art exhibition instead of a TV program.

And Salafir.
He was interested.

So now, like a sneaky kitten, I tiptoed upstairs and cautiously pushed open the crack in Clark's bedroom door.

Through the crack in the door, he could see his tall older brother facing the mirror in the wardrobe, holding two almost identical red plaid shirts and gesturing back and forth, his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly, his face filled with distress and hesitation.

Salafir almost burst out laughing.

“Brother, I really don’t understand this big, silly brother.” “Shen Du”’s speechless voice echoed in his mind. “Does he care or not? Really… his personality is so indecisive, whether it’s the future or the present.”

"It seems like he cares about it quite a bit," Salafir thought to herself. "Otherwise, he wouldn't..."

"and many more?"

"You just said the future also..."

"What are you doing here?"

Suddenly, a large hand reached out from behind the door, precisely grabbed Salafir by the back of his collar, and easily pulled him into the room.

Clark squinted at the grinning little guy in his hand, and suddenly understood why Dior always liked to carry him like that—

It is extremely efficient, and the opponent has no chance to resist.

"It's just going to a picnic, right? Just show up, why bother picking out clothes?"

Even while suspended in mid-air, Sarafiel couldn't resist making sarcastic remarks.

"What shopping... Don't talk nonsense!" Clark's ears burned slightly, and his tone panicked for a moment. "It's just... Lana said she was grateful for my help before and invited me to get something to eat... that's all."

The more he spoke, the weaker his voice became.

"Then why did you spend half an hour picking out clothes in front of the mirror? These two outfits look exactly the same!"

Salafir bluntly exposed her lie, letting out a snort through her little nose.

"I…"

Clark seemed to have his secret exposed, sighed, put Salafir down, and rubbed his hair in frustration.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his voice low and tinged with confusion: "Sarafil, tell me... why would Lana... have feelings for me? Is it because I happened to save her? Or because she thinks I'm a good person? I can't tell..."

This was the first time Clark had been so directly and repeatedly hinted at by a girl; he wasn't stupid.
He wasn't oblivious to the special gaze he was being given, but that's precisely why he felt even more uneasy.

After all, I used to treat him as a friend, but now I'm changing my perspective.
He was no longer at ease.

"Who knows?"

Salafell grumbled, walked up to Clark, and looked up at him:
"Maybe it's because you're always foolishly helping people? Maybe it's because you look so cool catching a rugby ball? Maybe it's just because you're a really nice guy? Who knows what girls are thinking. Anyway—"

He reached out and patted Clark's knee firmly, his tone assertive:
"She seemed so happy when she was with you, wasn't she?"

Clark was slightly taken aback.

Recalling Lana's smile, his eyes softened.

"go quickly!"

Salafir pushed him, "Don't hesitate! What you're wearing right now looks great! If you dawdle any longer, the picnic will be over! Do you want the girls to wait for you?"

Urged on by his younger brother, Clark seemed to be infused with some kind of courage.

He took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes shining despite his nervousness.

"Okay! This one is the one!"

After saying that, he quickly took off his red plaid shirt—

She changed into another red plaid shirt.

Salafir: "…………"

"Hey! Brother Clark! There's one more thing."

"?!"

Clark turned around and looked at Salafell with a puzzled expression.

But then he saw her tiptoe and pick up a red ring from his table.

It was one of the three-colored rings that Lana had recently bought for herself.

The little guy spoke in a very mature tone:
"This is a gift from Lana, don't forget it."

"Small in stature but big in ability." Clark smiled helplessly.

He then took the ring and slipped it onto his index finger.
"Om-!"

The young man was momentarily dazed.

It was as if someone had chuckled very softly in his ear, or as if a cool silk had brushed against his nerve endings.

A faint red tinge appeared at the edge of my vision, like blood dripping into clear water, spreading quickly and fading just as fast.

My heart skipped a beat for no reason.

Clark felt an unfamiliar heat spreading from where the ring was attached, making him almost want to tear off his collar.

……what happened?

He shook his head, and the feeling disappeared; it was like a hallucination.

"And one more thing!"

"What else?" Clark released his grip on the doorknob, turned around, and said helplessly, "Are you some kind of old man? Stop rambling on and on."

"Remember to go home tonight."

"That's it."

"?!"

"Sarafil, what are you saying?" Clark stared at Sarafil as if he'd seen a ghost, horrified. "Do you know what you're saying?"

"What? What?" Salafir looked completely bewildered. "I was just worried that Lana would drag you back and you wouldn't be able to."

"They can use me as an excuse to get away later."

"Oh"

He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

Clark Kent, what you just did...

What are you thinking?
Clark felt a brief moment of shame.

"boom!"

He opened the door and rushed downstairs without looking back.

As he passed through the living room, he didn't even notice Dio's sudden upward gaze or Locke's hesitant expression.

"This kid..." Locke blinked, staring at the slammed door. "So impatient?"

"..."

Dior frowned slightly. "Something's not right with him."

"What's wrong?"

“He never leaves without saying goodbye, especially when you, Father, are still sitting on the sofa.”

"."

“It’s your first date,” Locke patted his son’s shoulder, smiling indulgently. “It’s normal to be nervous. If you ever…”

"stare--!"

“Haha. Hahaha.”

"Watch TV, watch TV."

Locke turned and grabbed the remote control.
-
Clark pushed open the door and walked out of the house.

The evening breeze immediately arrived, neither as hot as during the day nor as cool as at night.

It carried a gentle weariness that was somewhere in between, brushing against his forehead and burning ears.

The setting sun hung obliquely on the horizon, dyeing the clouds like a satin of orange-pink and pale purple.

His extraordinary senses allowed him to faintly hear upbeat pop music coming from the direction of Smallwell.

The boy stood in front of the porch, pausing unconsciously for a second.

The wind carries the astringent scent of freshly cut grass, the smoke from a barbecue wafting from someone's backyard, and further away, the faint sweetness of icing sugar and jam from a picnic.

Although they are all very ordinary things
But the thought of facing Lana made Clark's heart race.
A date.
He clenched his fingers, and the cold touch of the ring actually made him more alert.

Clark reminded himself that this was not a battle, nor a ball game.

There was no rugby ball that he needed to catch in one go.

This is just once...

Picnic.

Ok
This is more than just a picnic.

Clark took a deep breath, letting the wind rush into his chest.

It seemed to carry a restlessness and anticipation that he had never felt so clearly before.

The door closed gently behind him, shutting out the lights, the noise of the television, and the gazes of his family—

They were all locked up in another world.

At this moment, he belongs only to this date.

Clark took a step.

At first, she was a little reserved as usual, but her steps became lighter and lighter, even a little bouncy.

He himself was also a little surprised.

This is unlike him, at least not like the Clark Kent who was always cautious and afraid of attracting attention.

But another unfamiliar emotion washed over my chest like a warm tide.
Push him and tell him—

That's fine.

"Dudu——!"

A pickup truck drove past him. It was the owner of a familiar grocery store in town. The owner honked the horn, leaned out of the window, and called out his name with a smile, "Clark! Where are you going?"

Normally, Clark might have stopped immediately, bowed slightly, and returned a shy but sincere smile.

But tonight…

He simply raised his hand lazily, without even turning his head completely, and casually waved his hand in the air, as if dismissing some insignificant greeting.

"Hey! Clark! Homecoming King!"

Another car slowed down, seemingly well aware of his deeds.

Raising an eyebrow, Clark stopped in his tracks as if possessed. He turned around, took two or three steps backward, and bowed dramatically towards the car.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!

He raised his voice inexplicably, loud and clear, with an almost theatrical pleasure, "My 'people,' how are you?"

The people in the car burst into good-natured laughter, seemingly finding the Kent boy particularly amusing today.

"Clark, remember to give my regards to your father and uncle."

The old man driving laughed and said, "You're really not like those two. They weren't so carefree back in the day."

"That's how young people should be, hahaha!"

With a wave, the old man drove away.

It's obvious that he brought his family to the picnic to enjoy the delicious food.

Clark stood there, watching the taillights disappear into the distance.

He would never have said or done these things before; he would have even felt embarrassed.
But right now... it doesn't feel so bad?

Don't say it.
It was actually quite enjoyable.

Moreover, the inexplicable restlessness in his chest seemed to have found an outlet, making him want to...

Be a little more unrestrained.

The entrance to the town park is right in front of us.

The colorful strings of lights twinkling among the branches looked like fallen stars.

The air was filled with the sweet aroma of grilled meat, desserts, and even a mixture of alcohol.

Clark's gaze easily cut through the noisy crowd and precisely locked onto the slender figure next to the dessert stall.

Lana Lang.

She wore a soft off-white knit sweater, and light blue jeans that made her legs look long and slender.

Her chestnut-brown hair was loosely braided into a side braid and draped over her left shoulder, with a few stray strands falling casually beside her ears, swaying gently as she tilted her head slightly to talk to the dessert stall owner.

Her profile was bathed in a soft, warm glow, as if illuminated by a streetlamp, with a faint smile playing on her lips.

Clark felt his heart skip a few beats, but this time...
That familiar hesitation and retreat did not prevail.

Instead, an almost reckless confidence propelled him straight toward her.

"Hey, Miss Lang."

He stopped behind her, with a slightly lazy air about him.

Lana was startled, turned around, and when she saw it was him, her eyes lit up with surprise and delight.
"Clark! You've come..."

Lana, her fingers twirling a loose thread from the hem of her sweater, looked at him and said nervously yet sincerely:
"This outfit suits you very well."

"is it?"

Clark nodded, not looking away shyly as usual.
Instead, he looked at Lana more directly, with an appreciative gaze.

His gaze slid slowly down from her smiling eyes to her slightly parted lips, Clark's voice tinged with amusement:
“I think…you’re more ‘suitable’ for this night, Lana.”

Um.
If it were Chloe
He should have slapped Clark right now and questioned him about his domineering CEO act, bringing this country bumpkin back to reality.

But unfortunately—that's how people are now.
"...!"

A blush instantly rose on Lana's cheeks.

Clark's directness made her heart skip a beat, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes, but more so a shy blush and...

Secretly pleased.

She lightly punched his arm, trying to cover her fluster with a joke: "Wow, Mr. Kent, did you eat candy today? You have such a sweet tongue."

"Maybe."

Clark grinned, revealing his snow-white teeth. His smile had a wild edge to it, quite unlike his usual gentle demeanor.

Then, very naturally, he extended his hand to her, palm up, his gaze intense:

"Weren't you going to treat me to the best desserts here? Lead the way, my 'Queen'."

They even deliberately emphasized the last two words.
Lana felt her face getting even hotter.

She hesitated for a moment—

It lasts only for a very short moment.

In the end, he placed his hand in Clark's palm.

The farm boy's hand was warm and strong, gripping it tightly, even with an undeniable possessiveness.

"Where did this empress come from...?"

Lana muttered softly, trying to hide her inner turmoil, but instead of pulling her hand away, she unconsciously tightened her grip.

The two then strolled around the food street.

As for the next time
Clark has become a different person.

He was no longer the Clark Kent who would blush for ages if he accidentally touched her hand.

He would boldly put his arm around her shoulder and walk through the crowded streets.
When playing throwing games, he would easily win the biggest plush toy with almost flashy skills, then casually shove it into her arms, accompanied by a cool little look.

He would suddenly grab her hand when he heard a cheerful melody, and jump a few steps casually in the open space. His movements were not standard, but they were full of a kind of confidence and joy from the heart, which made the people around him laugh, clap and cheer.

He even...
With his arm around Lana's shoulder, Clark strolled casually through the bustling picnic crowd.

His gaze lazily swept across the surroundings.

He immediately spotted Mr. Huggins, the school's discipline director.

Mr. Huggins, with a stern face, was trying to educate a few younger students who had squeezed mustard everywhere; his signature Mediterranean hairstyle looked particularly shiny under the light.

A few carefully combed strands of hair, meant to support the center, fell down due to his excited movements, stubbornly clinging to his forehead.

Clark stopped, sighed dramatically, and leaned close to Lana's ear.

His warm breath brushed against her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.

His voice was extremely low, carrying a hint of playful malice:

"Lana, do you know why Mr. Huggins is the teacher of philosophy and thought?"

"Why, Clark?"

Lana blinked, drawn in by the mystery in his tone.

“Because he possesses the broadest intellectual space in town.” He paused, admiring Lana’s momentarily bewildered expression, then slowly added, his gaze drifting to Mr. Huggins’ slicked-back hair:
"When you look out, there are no obstructions, so your thoughts can naturally run free."

After a two-second pause, Lana quickly covered her mouth, but still managed to let out a suppressed laugh.

His shoulders trembled uncontrollably, his face flushed red, he wanted to laugh but also felt that the joke was really too unfair to Director Huggins.

In the end, all he could do was give Clark a helpless, reproachful glare.
However, the way her hair curved into a shy crescent moon showed that she was enjoying herself.

Clark like this…

Unfamiliar, bold, charming, even a little bit mischievous…

It made my heart race, and I couldn't resist it at all.

"Clark, you're a little different tonight."

While sharing a strawberry milkshake, Lana finally couldn't help but whisper, looking at him with sparkling eyes.

Clark, who was sucking on a straw, looked up at her when he heard this, the dark red ring on his finger reflecting light slightly.

"is it?"

He swallowed the cold milkshake, his Adam's apple bobbing, then a wicked smile curled up at one corner of his mouth.
"Do you not like it?"

"."

Looking at him, I saw the intensity and directness in his eyes that were different from usual.
Lana felt her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her chest.

She shook her head gently, her voice barely audible: "...It's fine."

Clark's smile deepened. He reached out and gently rubbed her burning cheek with the back of his fingers, a gesture that was bolder than ever before.

"That's good."

He felt great.

I felt like I had inexhaustible energy, and my mind was exceptionally clear and excited.

All worries and shyness were thrown to the winds.

He just wanted to enjoy the night to the fullest, to savor Lana's adoring and loving gaze.

For example
He looked up and saw a lone red helium balloon floating in the night sky, seemingly accidentally dropped by a stall, rising higher and higher.

Hey, Lana.

Clark pointed to the balloon that was almost a small red dot, a confident smile curving his lips.

"Believe it or not, I can shoot it down without using any tools?"

Lana looked in the direction he was pointing, blinking in confusion:

"That high? How is that possible? Unless you have a super long gun..."

"How about we make a bet?" Clark lowered his head, his voice laced with undeniable provocation. "If I do it, you owe me an ice cream. The largest size, with double chocolate sauce."

"."

Although she thought it was impossible, Lana still smiled and nodded:

"Okay! If you can't do that, then you have to... you have to wear that inflatable dinosaur costume over there and dance!"

She looked at a large green dinosaur costume at a funny photo spot not far away.

"make a deal."

Clark smiled confidently, certain of his victory.

He pretended to flex his wrist, then raised his hand, extended his index finger adorned with a ring, and pointed at the almost invisible red dot.

Lana paused when she saw the familiar red ring, then looked at Clark curiously, wondering what kind of magic trick he was going to perform.

I saw
Clark squinted slightly, focusing on that distant point.

He twitched his finger slightly, and made a soft onomatopoeic sound as he did so:
"Crack~!"

Almost the instant his words fell—

In the night sky, the tiny red dot flashed briefly, then exploded silently, turning into several extremely fine red fragments that instantly disappeared into the darkness.

"?!"

Lana suddenly covered her mouth, her eyes widened, and she gasped.

She looked incredulously at the empty night sky, then at Clark beside her, who looked completely relaxed.

How...how is this possible?!
There was absolutely no sound, no bullets, nothing at all! He just pointed casually…

An absurd and heart-stopping thought suddenly crashed into her mind:
superpower!
This must be Clark's hidden superpower!

The incredible strength and speed he used to save her... it was all real!
After the initial shock, what surged into Lana's heart was not fear, but an indescribable sense of awe and excitement at being trusted so deeply.

Clark revealed his greatest secret to her in such a playful yet incredibly romantic way.

Just to win her an ice cream?

This unabashed honesty, this unbridled willingness to break the rules for her sake, is more impactful than any sweet talk.

Lana felt as if her heart had been hit hard by something, and then it softened completely.

She looked up, her eyes so tender they seemed to overflow with tenderness, brimming with adoration.

Before Clark could react, Lana suddenly stood on tiptoe and shyly kissed him on the cheek.

"I...I'll go buy you ice cream!"

Her face was as red as a ripe apple, and her voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

She almost dared not look the boy in the eye, and after speaking, she turned away like a startled yet delighted fawn.
He quickly squeezed into the crowd and ran away.

But that soft and fleeting touch was like a tiny electric current, instantly striking Clark.

This stimulation
This was clearly beyond his expectations.

The arrogance that had always sustained him seemed to have been punctured, revealing his truest self beneath.
Clark froze on the spot, the lingering warmth on his cheek seemingly magnified infinitely.

He subconsciously raised his hand, his lips involuntarily twitching upwards.
"Hey! Clark!"

A familiar voice, tinged with utter surprise and a hint of barely perceptible inquiry, rang out behind him:
"Didn't you say you had something 'important' tonight?"

The boy's body stiffened.

The smile that had just appeared on his lips instantly froze.

He slowly turned around and saw the familiar girl standing a few steps away. Her signature short blonde hair was slightly messy in the night wind, and a slightly oversized denim jacket was loosely draped over her petite body. She was holding a half-eaten donut in her hand and raising her eyebrows slightly.

Those eyes, so adept at spotting news, were filled with surprise.

Clark
My heart skipped a beat.

It’s over.

How much did Chloe see?
wrong?

Why should I care about this?!
Is dating Lana Lang such a heinous crime? Just admit it openly—

"Anyway, it's so great to run into you here!"

Before he could think of what to say, Chloe had already hopped forward a few steps.

She stuffed the donut in her hand into her mouth, picked up the old-fashioned camera that always hung around her neck with her free hand, and a bright, energetic smile bloomed on her face. She clasped her hands together in a familiar gesture of asking for something in return.

"Come help me! I want to take a picture of that flamboyant 'Smallville's Biggest Pumpkin King,' but it's packed with people like sardines, I can't squeeze in at all!"

She spoke rapidly, with her usual brisk pace, "Could you please take a picture for me? Almighty Clark!"

As she spoke, she naturally reached out her hand, just as she had done countless times before.
Out of habit, he reached out to grab Clark's wrist and pull him into the crowd.

However, looking at Chloe, who was smiling broadly and seemed completely oblivious, he was taken aback.
Clark swallowed back the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

A strange sense of irritation rose within me.

Did you interrupt his date over something so trivial?
He leaned back almost imperceptibly, avoiding Chloe's outstretched hand.

"I'm a bit busy right now, Chloe."

"?"

Chloe's hand grasped at empty air. She paused, a hint of surprise flashing in her watery green eyes, seemingly not expecting Clark to refuse. But she quickly regained her composure: "Just a few minutes! It'll be quick! You'll be free after we're done! Let's go!"

She reached out again, this time successfully grabbing Clark's wrist and trying to pull him away with some force.

"Louise is coming for Christmas soon, right? I want to document how lively our school's homecoming festival is!"

As she spoke, she turned around and tugged hard—

But it didn't budge.

Clark stood firmly in place, as if his feet were rooted to the spot.

Chloe turned around in surprise, the unruly strand of blonde hair on her forehead swaying with the movement.

then
She then met Clark's gaze.

The previous haste and hesitation had vanished, replaced by a clear impatience, even tinged with...

Contempt.

"Chloe."

Clark's voice turned cold, carrying an unprecedented sense of detachment:
"You can just let Pete do this little thing."

"?"

Chloe was completely stunned, and her fingers gripping the boy's wrist loosened slightly involuntarily.

She stared at him in disbelief, as if she didn't recognize him.

"Clark? You... what's wrong? I just..."

“I told you, I’m busy right now, Miss Penguin,” Clark interrupted her curtly. He even deliberately shook off Chloe’s hand, which was still on his wrist, his movements clearly showing his displeasure. “Didn’t you see?”

Miss Penguin?

Critical hit. Super critical hit.
Even Chloe.
Under the attack of these words, the smile and energy on his face vanished instantly.

Instead, there was shock, hurt, and immense resentment.

Looking at Clark's impatient, even somewhat harsh, expression, her nose tingled and her eyes instantly welled up with tears.

"Clark Kent! You!"

She cried out, but didn't utter a curse, and her voice wasn't loud.

But disappointment and sadness already filled me.

With a sudden turn, Chloe could no longer hold back her tears. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, squeezed into the crowd without looking back, and quickly disappeared from sight.

As the girl's figure disappeared into the colorful halo, Clark should, by all accounts, have begun to feel guilty.

but.
He now
The inexplicable irritation in his heart not only did not disappear, but became even more agitated because of Chloe's intense reaction.

Clark thought Chloe was being completely unreasonable and making a mountain out of a molehill.

I almost ruined his date tonight.

"Clark? What happened? I think I heard Chloe's voice..."

Lana's voice came from the side. She was holding a huge pile of chocolate ice cream and looked in the direction Chloe had disappeared, then at Clark, whose face didn't look too good.

"Oh, Clark."

Before Clark could speak, another sigh came from the side, a slightly helpless voice.

Suddenly, Pete appeared beside them, holding two half-eaten hot dogs.

He clearly witnessed most of what just happened.

honestly……

This ghostly appearance startled Clark.

His face revealed—

The expression seemed to say, "When did you show up here?"

Am I really that insignificant?!
She rolled her eyes at her only two best friends, clearly annoyed.

Pete glanced in the direction Chloe had run off to, then at Clark, who looked annoyed, and Lana, who was holding an ice cream cone looking bewildered, and sighed.

“Clark,” he said, his tone a mix of apology and helplessness, “Chloe…she might not be in a good mood today, or maybe the pressure of shooting the school magazine photos is too much. Don’t take it to heart.”

He paused, then forced a smile. "You guys have fun. I'll go check on things."

After saying that, Pete didn't even bother with the half-eaten hot dog in his hand, and immediately hurried after Chloe in the direction she had left.

This leaves only Clark and Lana in the same spot.

The lively picnic continued, but the atmosphere between the two had inexplicably cooled down.

Looking at Clark's still tense profile, Lana carefully handed him the chocolate ice cream.

"Are you alright, Clark? Did you have a fight with Chloe?"

Clark took the ice cream and took a big, hard bite.

The sweetness of double chocolate slightly suppressed the nameless anger in his heart.

He took a deep breath, trying to recapture the lighthearted and carefree feeling he had a few minutes earlier, but
Upon meeting Lana's concerned gaze, that swelled vanity and audacity—

It also seems to be shrouded in an inexplicable shadow.

"nothing."

"It was just a small misunderstanding. Shall we... continue shopping?"

Clark finally answered somewhat awkwardly, forcing another smile that seemed exactly the same as before.
but.
The red stone ring on her fingertip had faded somewhat.

(End of this chapter)