American Farmers: Facing a Cutoff at the Start

Roy's mouth was open, and he couldn't close it for a long time.

He glanced at Fett, who looked completely at ease, and then at his daughter, who seemed unaffected. He felt a surge of anger that seemed to have hit a cotton ball, unable to be vented, yet still feeling incredibly stifled.

Finally, he sighed deeply, plopped down on the sofa, and waved his hand:

"Fine... I don't understand your young people's affairs. Do as you please."

Seeing this, Leila grabbed Fett's sleeve, pulled him towards the bedroom, and closed the door behind her.

In the living room, old Frank quickly brought over the pot of freshly brewed coffee and poured Roy a cup: "Alright, alright, the kids aren't worried, why are you so anxious? Have some hot coffee and calm down."

Roy picked up the cup and gulped down several large mouthfuls, ignoring the scalding heat that made him wince. He slammed the cup down on the table, glared at old Frank, and said, "Hmph! Since it's your son who got the better deal, of course you're not angry!"

"If I had a son like that, I'd be laughing in my sleep!"

Old Frank chuckled and refilled his coffee. "You can't say that. We've watched these two kids grow up. Do you think we don't know what Lyra and Fett are like?"

He lowered his voice and pointed towards the next room: "Layla is right. Think about it, if our two families really fall out over this, who will be the happiest?"

"It's that old bastard again. We can't let him laugh at us."

Roy snorted irritably, but his expression softened considerably: "I know. I just... sigh, seeing Lyra like that makes me feel bad."

"Do you think this girl is stupid? Fair competition? I think Fett likes Lyra a lot, what does Lina have to do with this?"

Old Frank patted him on the shoulder: "Don't worry too much, let the kids figure it out themselves."

Once the bedroom door is closed, the sounds outside become indistinct.

Lyra released Fett's hand, turned around, and nervously twisted the hem of her clothes. All the energy she had shown when she argued with old Roy outside was gone.

She kept her head down, her voice muffled:

"I'm sorry, Fett. My dad... that's just his temper. Please don't be angry with him."

"He was also provoked by old Johnny and didn't understand it for a while."

Seeing her cautious demeanor, Fett couldn't help but laugh: "Why would I be angry? Uncle Roy is only doing this for your own good. If this happened to me, I'd be even angrier than him, and I might just shoot the kid who bullied my daughter."

Leila looked up, her eyes sparkling: "Really? You're really not angry?"

"Of course." Fetra sat down in a chair, letting her sit on the edge of the bed, her expression becoming serious. "Actually, Uncle Roy wasn't wrong about some of what he said earlier. My behavior... did seem like I was keeping you hanging on."

Just as Lyra was about to retort, Fett raised his hand to stop her:

"Listen to me. I don't want to lie to you, give you any empty promises, or try to make you happy with pretty words."

He looked into Leila's eyes, his tone sincere and low:

"Maybe I'm just too sensitive, and I can't get over that mental hurdle."

"We owe so much debt, and there might be people secretly watching our family. I'm not confident at all."

"I don't want you to live in fear with me, and I don't want to get you involved in this trouble."

Leila listened quietly, the light in her eyes growing softer.

She grasped Fett's hand in return and gently shook it: "I know. I understand you. You're a responsible and good man, destined to be liked by other women. Becoming your partner won't be an easy thing."

"That's why I said we need fair competition. I, Lyra Green, will not give up easily."

"No matter how long it takes, I'll wait for you."

She paused, then added, "But don't keep me waiting too long."

Fett looked at her and nodded seriously: "Don't worry, I will eliminate all the factors that make me feel uneasy as soon as possible."

As Leila listened to the man's domineering promise, the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up.

This heartfelt exchange softened the air, and the bitterness I felt because of Lina completely dissipated.

Actually, she was the one who felt the most upset when she saw those ambiguous photos this morning.

Although she was talking about fair competition, she couldn't suppress the competitive spirit in her heart.

If Lina can hug Fett willingly, why can't she?

Layla's eyes darted around, her smile faded, and her gaze turned somewhat resentful. She deliberately lowered her head, avoiding looking at Fett.

Fett thought she was still upset about what Roy had said earlier, and instinctively wanted to comfort her. He leaned forward slightly to get a better look at her expression.

Just when he was completely off guard, Lyra suddenly leaned forward and gave him a quick peck.

"Pop".

A warm, fleeting kiss, like a dragonfly skimming the water, landed on Fett's lips, carrying the sweet innocence unique to a young girl.

Lyra sat back on the bed, looking directly at Fett without flinching. A blush crept onto her cheeks, but her eyes were full of smugness: "I feel much better now!"

Fett was caught off guard by the sudden attack, and his fingers unconsciously touched his lips, where the soft touch still lingered.

"You..." He was both amused and exasperated. Just as he was about to say something, Leila stood up and, like a victorious little rooster, hummed a song as she walked out of the bedroom, leaving him with only a light and cheerful back view.

Fett shook his head and smiled helplessly. With a thought, he opened the light screen.

Interpersonal relationships:

[Lyra Green]: Affection level 96 (Close friend)

[Lina Anderson]: Affection level 65 (Slightly favorable)

really!

However, Lina's favorability rating is rising quite quickly!

He calmed himself down and looked at the wound on his leg.

When I woke up this morning, the lingering pulling and pain in my leg had completely disappeared, leaving only the tingling and itching unique to when a wound is healing.

He tried to bend his knee, and there was no tightness at all in the wound; it was as flexible as if he had never been injured.

Counting the days, although there are still a few days until the time the doctor said the stitches will be removed, my strengthened body's recovery speed is obviously not as fast as it should be.

He rolled up his trouser legs and unwrapped the gauze layer by layer.

The skin around the wound has returned to its normal color.

The opening in the middle was also closed perfectly, leaving only a faint pink mark.

The black nylon thread seemed somewhat superfluous, and even caused the skin to wrinkle slightly as the wound healed.

He opened his laptop and typed "wound suture removal standards" into the search box.

After looking at a lot of pictures and examples and comparing them with his own wound recovery, Fett finally determined the condition of his wound.

"The stitches can be removed now," Fett muttered to himself.

Although the doctor advised him to go to the hospital to have the stitches removed, he couldn't go.

This is America, a magical country where selling blood for drug trials can be a normal way to make money.

Who knows which insurance company or biotechnology company will sell medical records to?

If someone were to discover that his wounds heal far faster than normal, the American soldiers who suddenly appeared would be more than he could handle in his current state.