American Farmers: Facing a Cutoff at the Start

He heard that Fett refused to give him a ride because he was busy with blacksmithing.

Lyra's eyes, which had just lit up because of the cipher, instantly dimmed.

She lowered her head slightly, her shoe tip unconsciously kicking the protruding stone on the ground.

Old Frank saw this, then turned to look at Fett's businesslike expression and sighed.

If you meet a girl like this and don't take the initiative, you're a far cry from how I was back then!

This kid! Completely unyielding! I was just starting to think he was acting like a man!

Looking at it this way, it still hasn't grown up!

He placed the pot he was holding on the porch table and spoke gently:

"Fett, go."

"With you away at school all these years, and your mother not around either, I'm really grateful for the help from your Uncle Roy's family. They even brought me stewed beef yesterday."

Seeing that Fett seemed about to say something, Frank waved his hand and pointed to the telephone in the room:

"Besides, I don't have time to play blacksmith with you right now."

"I have to do what you suggested last night: pull out the phone book and call all those regular customers one by one to promote our discounts."

"This phone call will take all morning, so don't just sit here waiting."

The old man paused, his tone less forceful than before, and more inclined towards a spirit of equal negotiation:

"There are wild animals in the woods near the farm, and it's not safe for her to be alone."

"Please thank your Uncle Roy for me, and make sure Lyra gets home safely."

"This is serious business."

What do you think?

This change in tone, which was now more open to discussion, made Fett a little uncomfortable. Old Frank was always a man of his word, a typical redneck.

How did she change her personality?

That's good. In my memory, Uncle Roy was an expert in animal husbandry and agricultural machinery. He would have needed this kind of experience to take over the farm and make it bigger and stronger.

He glanced at Leila beside him, who, though silent, had clearly perked up her ears, nodded, and put down the saw blade in his hand:

"I really should go and visit Uncle Roy. I've been back for so long and haven't said hello yet."

"Okay, it's settled then."

"You can stay at your Uncle Roy's house a little longer and have a meal there. Your Aunt Rachel's cooking is top-notch. We'll start cooking again this afternoon."

After saying that, old Frank placed the heavy iron pot on the wooden floor of the porch, waved his hand, and turned to go back inside to look through his phone book.

Fett turned and walked toward the garage, intending to put the materials down before delivering them.

"Fate."

Lyra's voice echoed softly from behind:

"Are you deliberately keeping your distance from me because of your girlfriend?"

Fett stopped in his tracks, and before he could turn around, he heard a muffled sound behind him.

"It used to be so hard to date her until late at night, but now it's so difficult for her to even spend a little time with me..."

"Your dad had to force you..."

Fett sighed, leaned the scrap metal against the garage wall, and turned to look.

Leila was standing there, head down, her bangs obscuring her eyes, making her expression unreadable.

Fett looked at her and helplessly shrugged:

"Laila, you don't want to see my dad and me become homeless, do you?"

"tramp?"

Leila looked up, her eyes slightly red: "How could this be? Uncle Frank isn't..."

"That woman's name is Lina. She's a loan officer at Avester Bank, which means she comes to collect debts."

Fett walked back to her, his tone candid:

"She twisted her ankle at the farm gate yesterday and can't drive."

"She helped postpone the repayment date by a few days; I just drove her home."

"What kind of date is this?"

"I don't have a girlfriend either."

"Really...really?"

Lyra blinked, her eyes still moist, but she already believed most of what Fett said.

"Absolutely true."

"I'm going to forge knives with my dad so we can pay off the overdue debts before the New Year and save the farm."

Hearing this, Leila breathed a long sigh of relief, and her previously tense shoulders relaxed.

She thought to herself, "I thought I was going to have to duel with that woman..."

But the next second, as if she suddenly realized something, her brows furrowed again, and her eyes became somewhat frightened:

"Debt? What debt? Uncle Frank's farm has always been doing very well..."

Fett had only been back for a few days when debt collectors came knocking on his door. It looked like he had run home to hide from his debts.

She looked Fett up and down, her tone becoming somewhat hurried:

"Did you go astray while studying in a big city?"

"If it's gambling or something else... we can figure something out together."

Fett shook his head and smiled somewhat helplessly:

"How could that be? I have no grudge against gambling and drugs."

He glanced towards the interior of the room and lowered his voice:

"It was my mother... She was in the hospital before she passed away, and the expenses were quite high. In addition, we had borrowed money to buy hay during the drought in recent years, and we couldn't pay it back in time, so the loan was overdue."

Leila's expression froze instantly.

"sorry……"

She lowered her head, her fingers fidgeting in her pocket, and her voice became very soft: "I misunderstood you."

"And... Auntie's funeral..."

"I was taking an exam at school and couldn't get back in time. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's all over now."

Fett instructed:

"But don't tell your parents about this."

"You know how stubborn my dad is. If the neighbors knew he was about to go bankrupt, they'd be more upset than if he were killed."

"Of course, I'm very tight-lipped."

Leila looked up, and to ease the tension, she deliberately said in a relaxed tone:

"Actually, it's nothing."

"My family took out a large loan two years ago to buy a new harvester and hay, and we still haven't finished paying it off."

"In this country, everyone is the same."

"I'm not busy lately, so why don't I help out?"

She frowned as she looked at the rusty, mud-covered old spring by the garage, but her eyes suddenly lit up:

"Since you need iron... how about you take a look around my warehouse?"

She pointed in the direction of the neighboring farm:

"My dad is a hoarder. He can't bear to throw anything away. His warehouse is full of all sorts of old farm machinery parts. Maybe there are better materials than this rusty lump."

"real?"

Yes! Uncle Roy can fix farm machinery, so his house always has all sorts of spare parts.

Fett's eyes lit up, and he immediately picked up the pot on the table:

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"Come on, if you find something suitable, you'll be a great help."

"But I used your dad's collection, won't he be angry?"

Leila puffed out her chest and assured her, "Don't worry! Watch me!"

The two walked out of the farm gate one after the other and strolled along the road.

Leila quickened her pace, reached out and gently tugged at the hem of Fett's jacket, her voice low and carrying a hint of barely perceptible expectation:

"F...Fett, do I look good today?"

"It looks good."

Fett answered casually, while pondering what the fifth knife should be used for.

"But since you're dressed so nicely, why didn't you ring the doorbell and go through the front door? Why did you have to climb over the wall? Aren't you afraid of damaging your clothes?"

"snort."

Lyra walked over to Fett and kicked a small pebble from the roadside:

"I originally wanted to sneak into your room like when I was a child, and put my icy hands under your blankets before you woke up."

"Who knew you'd get up so early today? You used to sleep until almost noon."

Fett didn't hide anything from her, saying as they walked:

"There's a show called 'Knife Forging Competition' that's currently recruiting contestants, and the winner gets a prize of $10,000."

"I'm preparing to register, but I need to make a portfolio with five different types of knives, and I can't sleep."

Lyra stopped and looked Fett up and down, her eyes filled with disbelief:

"Weren't you forging knives with Uncle Frank?"

"You can forge swords all by yourself?"

"emmm"

Before Fett could even come up with a reason, Lyra nodded to herself, as if she had convinced herself:

"That's true. You wouldn't be surprised by anything."

She walked briskly beside Fett, her hands behind her back, her gaze fixed on the distance:

"You've been smart since you were little, you learn everything quickly, and you've never disappointed your aunt."

"Uncle Frank used to brag whenever he got drunk at my house, saying things like, 'You've won this award, you've gotten into this good school, and with your grades you could get into Stanford or Princeton...'"

At this point, her voice became somewhat distant:

"Back then, I thought you would definitely stay somewhere full of skyscrapers and become a lawyer in a suit, or some kind of... politician."

"I may never see you again. I may only see your name on TV news or on ballots at polling stations."

She suddenly stopped, her beautiful eyes fixed intently on Fett, a radiant smile spreading across her lips:

"However, we meet again."

"very nice."

After saying this, Lyra didn't wait for Fett's response.

She turned around, as if she had unloaded a heavy burden, and ran briskly towards her family's farm.

The hem of her coat fluttered with her movements, and her two golden-brown braids bounced on her back like a cat's tail.

In the distance, rolling hills stretched out, and withered grasslands extended to the horizon, where a few cows leisurely chewed hay by the fence.

Fett stood there, watching the figure running in the winter sun.

At that moment, the sense of alienation between the transmigrator and the original owner that had always lingered in his mind seemed to dissipate.

He took a deep breath and followed.