American Farmers: Facing a Cutoff at the Start

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Fett was woken up by his always punctual biological clock.

The fireplace in the bedroom had long since gone out, leaving only a pile of cold, gray ash.

The temperature inside the room dropped drastically, and even the breath we exhaled was tinged with white mist.

Fett shivered, gritted his teeth, and resolutely threw off the still-warm blankets.

He quickly slipped on the thick flannel shirt and stepped onto the cold floor into the living room.

First, clean out the ashes in the fireplace, stuff in a few flammable pine sticks, and light a match.

"call--"

As the flames leaped up joyfully, the once deserted living room finally came alive.

He was warming his hands by the fireplace when he heard familiar footsteps on the porch.

"Squeak—"

The door was pushed open, and Lyra walked in, bringing with her the chill of the morning air.

She wore a beige shearling coat today, which made her look fluffy and very cute.

He was holding a pot of freshly brewed hot coffee, white steam rising gently, filling the room with that comforting aroma.

Good morning! The temperature has dropped again today!

Leila took a cup, filled it with coffee, and handed it to her, her eyes crinkling as if they held stars.

"morning."

Fett took the steaming hot coffee, held the cup in both hands to absorb the warmth, and took a small sip.

The bitter yet mellow liquid flowed down my throat into my stomach, instantly dispelling much of the groggy feeling of not being fully awake.

After handing the coffee to Fett, Leila casually started unbuttoning her shearling coat, preparing to hang it on the coat rack by the door.

"Don't take it off."

Fett quickly spoke up to stop him, putting down the cup in his hand:

"The fireplace has just been lit, and the room isn't warm enough yet. Don't catch a cold."

Leila didn't stop, deftly taking off her coat and hanging it up, revealing a somewhat thin knit sweater underneath. She turned around and smiled at him:

"It's okay. I was worried the coffee wouldn't taste good if it got cold, so I ran all the way here. I'm all sweaty and hot."

As she spoke, she reached out and slapped her flushed cheeks.

Looking at her flushed face, Fett sighed helplessly, moved aside, and patted the sofa next to him.

"Alright, then sit here, closer to the fireplace."

Fett swallowed a sip of coffee and began to speak:

"Layla, I've been thinking about this for a long time last night."

He poured out all the problems he had discovered while replying to private messages last night, along with his own thoughts:

"The 'mentorship' method I originally came up with for selling trees was just to sell the trees; I didn't think about anything else."

"Judging from the private messages and appointments, many people are here because of the news."

"Some wanted souvenirs, some wanted their children to experience what it means to be a tough guy, and some even wanted to hear a story."

"For them, buying a Christmas tree has become a side effect."

He sighed:

"I'm thinking about how to make the farm more interesting."

"Otherwise, they've come all this way, and we're just standing there like idiots, pointing them the way to cut down trees. They'd definitely be disappointed."

"If people start complaining online and nobody comes anymore, that would be terrible."

"We need to capitalize on this influx of visitors. Could we make some souvenirs? Or design some interactive games to make this place feel like a theme park?"

Fett shrugged, somewhat helplessly:

"I have this idea, but I really don't know how to do it."

"souvenir?"

Leila put down her coffee cup, frowned, and thought for a long time:

"All we have here is dirt and trees, what souvenirs could we possibly have? Are we going to sell pine cones?"

"Interactive games are even more difficult. We don't have the capital to buy amusement facilities, nor the time to build them."

She pointed to herself somewhat uncertainly:

"How about... we set up a stage and put on a play about how we hunted the wild boar that day?"

The two looked at each other and smiled helplessly.

Clearly, they were both completely clueless about this kind of complex business plan.

"Let's go to my room. Let's search online and see how other people do it. Maybe we can get some ideas."

The two went to Fett's room.

The bedroom door was closed, but it was still just as cold.

"Are you cold?" Fett glanced at Leila, who was only wearing a thin wool sweater.

She crossed her arms, sniffed, and nodded.

Fett walked to the fireplace, knelt down, and began to light a fire.

"The room won't get warm for a while, so sit on the bed first, it'll be warmer there."

Layla didn't stand on ceremony and threw off her somewhat worn ankle boots.

After hesitating for a moment, she took off her dusty outer pants, leaving only her soft fleece trousers underneath. Like a nimble cat, she jumped onto the bed, lifted the covers, and crawled inside, leaving only her head sticking out.

Fett squatted by the bed, glanced at Leila, and, remembering that he hadn't showered for the past two days because of his injury, scratched his head and said somewhat awkwardly:

"Um... I haven't showered for the past two days, so the bed might smell a little. Please don't mind."

Leila peeked halfway out from under the covers, deliberately sniffing his neck like a puppy, then wrinkled her nose in disgust, fanning herself with her hand as she teased him:

"It definitely has a smell!"

"It looks exactly like that wild boar!"

After saying that, she giggled and pulled the blanket up to cover half of her face, leaving only her crescent-shaped eyes to hide her cheeks, which were flushed from her bold actions.

Fett squatted in front of the bedside table, plugged in his laptop, and opened Google to search for "farm tourism," "theme park planning," and so on.

Leila leaned against the headboard, barely looking at the dense text on the screen.

She simply watched Fett's serious profile, his long, slender fingers gliding across the touchpad.

"Look at this, there's a farm in Tennessee that's doing a 'gold mine search,' and it's supposedly really popular."

Fett pointed to the picture on the screen, turned to Lyra behind him, and asked, "How about we mark off a small area in the woods, bury some colorful stones, and let the kids take some tools to dig them up?"

Lyra shook her head without even thinking:

"no."

"It's December now, and the soil outside is frozen as hard as stone. Let alone a child, even I might not be able to dig it up."

She pointed out the window:

"And in this freezing weather, are you letting those pampered city kids lie on the ground playing in the mud?"

"Will their parents be happy if they get covered in dirt?"

"That's true." Fett swiped the page.

"Look at this 'Pet Paradise'!"

Lyra pointed to the photos of children feeding sheep on the screen and excitedly nudged Fett with her shoulder:

"That'll definitely work! I have those black-faced 'Shaun the Sheep', a few Angora rabbits, piglets, and your little calf 'Little Bean'."

"If we fence them all in together, the city kids definitely won't be able to walk!"

"no."

Fett shook his head and rationally retorted:

"Animales are too unpredictable. What if the sheep butts the child, or the child pinches the rabbit too hard and gets bitten in return? The money we make from selling the trees won't even cover the medical expenses."

"And who has the time to keep an eye on them all the time?"

"Yeah..." Leila pouted, somewhat disappointed.

"What about the souvenirs?"

Fett swiped the mouse, looking at the exquisite pine cone charms on the webpage:

"How about we go into the woods and collect some pine cones, then spray them with gold paint as souvenirs?"

"That's so outdated."

To see the details on the screen more clearly, Lyra leaned closer, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Who would pay for something that's everywhere? It's all used to start fires."

Fett turned his head to the side, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped.

As he turned his head, the tip of his nose narrowly brushed against Leila's cheek.

The touch was as gentle as a breeze; he could even feel the fine downy hairs on her cheeks brushing against the tip of his nose.

Is this the legendary velvety skin?

Their breaths mingled instantly, each carrying their own scent.

The ambiguity in the air, like fermenting wine, suddenly rose up.

The argument abruptly ended.

Only their increasingly rapid heartbeats remained, clearly audible in the quiet room.