Chapter 1205

Bruce is a person who doesn't enjoy the process of eating. He believes that eating is just a step for humans to solve survival needs, and the enjoyment of taste might bring about undisciplined gluttony.

Therefore, his daily diet is extremely regular and tends to be light. Simply put, it's vegetable leaves and protein with no taste.

But this eating habit wasn't something he had since birth. His mother, Martha, although from the Kane family, a big family in Cat Getan, also had excellent cooking skills.

And after Martha passed away, Bruce would eat relatively simply, mainly because he was considerate of Alfred's old age and didn't want to hire another cook, so when Alfred asked him what he wanted to eat, he would only answer "eat something simple."

What cannot be denied is that Clark's mother, Martha, has great skills. Because the Kent family is a farm family, farm work requires physical strength, and sufficient physical strength requires sufficient calories, so there is a lot of meat on the table. And perhaps because of the frequent handling of meat, the technique is very skilled.

The fish filling inside the fish pie is made by marinating the fish, removing the bones, and then beating it into a paste, mixing it with a certain proportion of minced chicken and onion, and then cutting the frozen thick soup into small pieces and wrapping them into the dough. The pie baked this way will be full of thick soup.

The Kent family's secret roasted chicken and cinnamon rolls are marinated with the same formula of spices, completely suppressing any possible fishy smell. The heat is also just right, not too dry because of being fully cooked.

Several other dishes also have the level of ordinary restaurants, with balanced seasoning and steaming hot. Human taste buds naturally won't refuse such food, and Bruce is the same.

By the time he came back to his senses, he discovered that he had already eaten two large pies, a whole chicken leg and wing, five or six cinnamon rolls, countless vegetable salads, and a large bowl of pea soup. It sounds like it's not much, but Martha's cooking uses extra ingredients, and this has already far exceeded Bruce's usual food intake.

What's even more terrifying is that Bruce didn't feel greasy, because the dishes were rich in variety and the tastes were blended. Eating a bite of this and then a bite of that, he unknowingly ate a lot of things.

Bruce took out the most sincere gaze he had since birth, looked at Martha, and said: "Thank you, ma'am, but I really am full."

Looking at the disappointment on Martha's face, a thick sense of guilt grew in Bruce's heart. This guilt ended when Martha brought two large plates of steaming apple pie and more than a dozen muffin cakes to the table.

Bruce really couldn't hold back his expression anymore. He should have thought long ago that the so-called dessert would definitely be full of farm style. No one here would make the kind of finger cakes in high-end commercial street dessert shops. All the dishes were dominated by a strong and rich style.

The apple pie cut open with hot filling has a very strong sweetness, but one can taste it in one bite—this sweetness doesn't come from sugar or honey, but from the fructose of the apple itself. The apple must be very sweet for this dessert to be very sweet.

The texture of cooked apples is a bit strange, chewing in the mouth like sour sponge, but the crispy surface of perfect puff pastry makes up for the defects in texture. Bruce just took a bite and chewed it a few times in his mouth, and the strong sweetness rushed directly to his brain.

Fruit sweetness is the most primitive dopamine catalyst, and the sweetness of carbohydrates is the source of happiness engraved in human genes. Before Bruce could react, an apple pie the size of a palm had already disappeared.

Looking at the muffin cake handed to him again, Bruce could be said to be flustered, hurriedly eating a few bites, wiping his mouth, and saying to Clark: "I ate a bit too much. Let's go out for a walk."

Clark was gnawing on a whole apple pie. Hearing Bruce's suggestion, he put down the food with some regret, stood up from his seat, pulled his somewhat wrinkled shirt down hard, walked to the side of the table, and waved at Martha, saying: "I'll take him out for a turn."

Jonathan, who was washing dishes, turned back to look at them and said: "You can take your friend to the sheepfold to see the lambs and calves. During the time you went to work, our big family added three little friends. They should be at the cutest time when they are fluffy, which can cure all diseases in this world."

Clark heard Jonathan's implication. His father is a very magical educator, as if he could read minds. In the short time he had contact with Bruce, he immediately discovered that Bruce's mental state was not good and proposed a plan he thought was effective, such as going to see newborn animals.

Bruce stood at the door, feeling his stomach working desperately. This organ of his had never been so diligent, so much so that his heart felt surprised by this and transported a large amount of blood over, making Bruce feel sleepy in bursts.

Bruce thought he could go out with Clark immediately, but what he didn't expect was that Clark first searched for keys on the wooden board nailed to the wall, saying while searching: "Let me see... which bunch is the sheepfold key?... Oh, and need to bring the house keys."

After a long search, Clark carried the two bunches of keys in his hand, and then began to look for coats, gave a heavy coat to Bruce, and found one for himself.

Then he began to search the whole house for gloves, and finally found two pairs of rubber gloves under the coffee table beside the sofa, also handing a pair to Bruce.

Then he began to search the whole house for rain boots, umbrellas, hats, masks, and finally brought out a crowbar and a nail rake from the yard behind the house.

Clark stuffed the nail rake into Bruce's hand. He looked at Bruce holding so many things and said somewhat puzzled: "Why are you stunned? Hurry up and put them on!"

"We are just going out for a walk, right?" Bruce asked somewhat uncertainly.

"Uh, do you mean a walk? Around here, going out for a walk generally means checking the chicken coop, picking up eggs, counting the number of sheep in the sheepfold, checking the nose rings of the cows in the cattle shed, distributing forage to each shed in case it rains tomorrow, fixing the doors of the sheds, going to the grazing place to dig open the grass roots, checking the growth of the pasture, deciding whether to supplement seeds..."

Bruce looked down at the things in his arms. The coat should be for cold protection at night, the gloves should be for contacting livestock, the umbrella might be for preventing rain, the hat and mask should be for hygiene, the nail rake should be for raking forage, and the crowbar should be for prying up grass roots.

He looked at Clark, who had already finished dressing, and thought that there would be no image in this world more like a farmer than this.

Bruce also equipped these things on his body. The two farmers, who looked quite ridiculous, looked at each other. Clark was the first to laugh out loud: "If others knew that I dragged Bruce Wayne over to do farm work, they would definitely go crazy."

Bruce used the nail rake as a cane, walking step by step on the slightly damp mud road at night, saying as he walked: "If you write this into a report, it will be more sensational than a meteorite falling here."

"Then we don't want to have any quiet days. Everyone in the small town will surround my house, watching how the richest person in the world clumsily does farm work."

"I'm not clumsy," Bruce said immediately.

But Clark shook his head with a smile. He looked at Bruce and said: "Do you think that because you have a strong body, flexible hands and feet, and can fight, you will definitely be able to do these things?"

"I'm not the kind of young master who can't distinguish wheat seedlings in your cognition." Bruce also shook his head, appearing very disapproving, and said: "Even if I don't have experience, I learn very quickly."

"When I first started doing farm work with my dad, I thought so too. But the fact is, more than ten years have passed, and I still haven't learned half of his skills... one-tenth of my grandfather's."

"When the judgment cycle of whether an experience is correct is one year, you will discover that a person's life is not that long. We are only equivalent to eighty or ninety cycles of winter wheat, and the accidents that can happen on the farm are more than eighty or ninety kinds."

Bruce looked up toward the distance of the farm. There were undulating field ridge lines, windbreak forests extending along the lines, granaries, mills, and windmills, and the brightest starry sky in the distance.

Cat Getan never had such a bright starry sky. It was so bright that it seemed all the stars were right in front of his eyes. The moist water vapor stuck to his eyelashes, and when he blinked, he could even reflect the light of the stars, as if the starry sky was reaching out to him, wiping away his tears.

Just as Bruce was staring straight at the night sky, he suddenly felt a force coming from under his feet. He looked down and discovered that he had stepped into a mud pit mixed with water and soil.

Clark helped his arm, avoiding him losing his center of gravity and falling headfirst, and pointed forward, saying: "Be careful, we have to walk along the side of the creek."

Bruce turned his head to look. He saw a closer starry sky. The surface of the gurgling creek reflected a faint light that was brighter than the stars. A patch of reeds was drifting in the wind not far away.

The smell and sound of the early summer night were surprisingly rich. The breeze would tell everyone that soil and plants really have a fragrance. The insects that poked their heads out of the soil early had sounds that seemed a bit weak, like a symphony entering a slow beat.

Bruce lifted his leg and crawled his foot out of the mud pit. The two walked a short distance again and arrived near the sheds. The land here was drier, but one could still see animal footprints. Clark looked at the ground with his head down and said:

"When we were young, whenever we walked this road, Jonathan would bet with me on which animals these footprints came from. This is actually not easy to distinguish, right?"

"This is a chicken's footprint, this is a cow's. The one near the grass over there is a pig's. I didn't find any sheep's footprints. Don't they live here?" Bruce pointed to the ground with the nail rake in his hand and said.

"This really can't stump you." Clark said while checking the keys on the key ring: "It can be seen that you are very eager to prove that you are not the kind of young master in the stereotype, but here, we really don't need any more animal detectives."

Clark smiled and pushed open the door of the shed and walked in. Bruce followed behind him. Clark said while walking in:

"Our animal detective, the Bat-Cat, after coming here, cracked down on animal crimes within the entire farm range. The key targets included mice stealing food, roosters pecking at their peers, and birds stealing seeds."

"You can just say it came to eat at the buffet."

"Completely correct."