Chapter 1207: The Farm of Justice (Part 6)

The tiny town of Smallville had no advanced transportation to welcome visitors from Metropolis, and the nearest airport in Wichita was too far away—a long drive or an even longer train ride.

So, the meeting point Clark and Lois agreed upon wasn't the Kansas City airport, but the train station near the southern city of Wichita. Since they were picking up two ladies, Clark and Bruce didn't choose the dilapidated old pickup truck; instead, they borrowed a sedan from a neighbor.

They arrived at the station early. Clark, holding a notebook with the itinerary, stood outside the platform, peering out constantly. Before a train had even pulled into the station, he said with some excitement, "They're here, they're here. They've arrived."

Bruce turned to look at him and asked, "Do you like Lois?"

"I don't."

"You do."

"We have a purely platonic friendship."

"Impossible."

Clark looked at Bruce helplessly and said, "Do you want to play the role of a romance expert? Do you even have a girlfriend?"

"Of course I do," Bruce replied, watching the train pull into the station. "But she's currently obsessed with a Hollywood acting dream and has no time for me."

Clark curled his lip, but then nudged Bruce's arm with his elbow, looking worried. "Don't you dare spill the beans. I haven't even started pursuing her yet!"

Clark sighed softly. "Back in school, Lois was the goddess; everyone liked her. After joining the newspaper, her colleagues liked her, and her editors valued her. She's not like a small-time reporter like me who got lucky with one story. She's probably the best media professional in the Metropolis area."

Clark rambled on until two figures emerged from the platform.

One was tall, the other short. The lady in front was quite tall, likely over 1.8 meters, wearing a crisp white long-sleeved shirt and a black fishtail skirt. With black hair and red lips, her brows and lip lines were sharply defined. Her hair was tied back, exuding a professional, capable air.

The lady behind her wore a floral sundress and a straw hat, dragging a small suitcase while holding a notebook, writing something as she walked out.

"Hello, I am the curator of the Metropolis Museum, Diana Prince. I've heard about you from Lois long ago. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kent."

The tall lady walked up and shook hands with Clark, her actions and speech crisp and efficient, radiating an imposing aura.

Lois squeezed out from beside Diana and winked at Clark. "This is Ms. Prince. You should have heard of her, right?"

Clark felt a bit awkward. He tried to recall the name "Prince," finding it vaguely familiar. Before he could say anything, Bruce stepped forward, shook hands with Diana, and said, "Hello, Princess of Themyscira. I've heard much about you."

"Bruce Wei En." Diana's eyes widened. She blinked in confusion for a second, but still shook his hand and said, "I've heard much about you, too, Mr. Wei En."

"Oh, I remember now! So you're the Princess of Themyscira!" Clark realized. He then gave a shy smile. "Sorry, I'm just a small-town boy. I never have much of a sense for 'big shots'."

"The person beside you is the big shot," Diana said, looking Bruce up and down. "... He's much more famous than I am."

"Honestly, I didn't expect you to be different from the media reports," Diana said bluntly. "... You don't seem that aggressive, nor that flamboyant. You actually look quite normal."

"You are exactly as the media reports, Ms. Prince," Bruce replied. "Stunning beauty, excellent professional standards, and quite a powerful presence."

Clark noticed Diana frown when Bruce mentioned her beauty, but her expression softened quickly at the following compliments.

"Let's not stand here. Clark, how did you get here? Won't it be too much of an imposition to go to your house today?" Lois asked, adjusting her glasses.

"No, not at all. I drove. There's just enough room. Let's get in the car. We should make it back just in time for dinner. My mother heard two beautiful ladies were visiting and prepared a huge feast."

"That's too much trouble," Diana said.

The four of them got into the car. As they hit the highway, Diana took the initiative: "The agricultural development of the Metropolis area has always been a concern. I think Mr. Wei En understands that most major cities on the East Coast aren't suitable for large-scale agriculture."

"Call me Bruce," Bruce replied.

Diana tilted her head, looking at Bruce, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Bruce was exceptionally quiet and appeared exhausted, his tone heavy with fatigue. He looked nothing like the lucky business genius, the head of a massive conglomerate, or the lady-killer described by the media.

His relaxed state meant he wasn't using his Batman skills to mask this weakness, making him appear unusually fragile. This actually boosted Diana's impression of him; she had been terrified of encountering a persistent playboy.

"To be honest, I don't think the poor agricultural development in the Metropolis area is entirely the terrain's fault. The East Coast is mostly hilly, but the soil quality isn't bad. The climate is also suitable for small-scale grazing and fishing. If these industries aren't developing well, the government has to take responsibility."

As Clark finished this, Diana's eyes lit up. She realized this young man truly knew his stuff. She immediately said:

"Exactly. Those politicians keep harping on about how the hills aren't suitable for large-scale farming, but there is plenty of flat, fertile land in the Metropolis area. It's just that the policy support isn't there, and the farmers are struggling."

Diana sighed softly, then added, "Fortunately, they are gradually realizing this, so they hope to hold a large-scale agricultural expo to boost the farmers' confidence, facilitate exchanges, and attract more investment."

"But because Metropolis hasn't valued agriculture, the Department of Culture and Tourism can't come up with a decent plan. The departments involved don't understand agriculture, and the major media outlets understand it even less. They don't know which angle to focus on for the expo."

Diana's tone was filled with deep helplessness. Clearly, the curator had hit many walls. Unable to hold back, she complained:

"The museum director says we should popularize agricultural products and teach people the difference between types of green beans. The deputy director says we should start with the soil and let people experience farming firsthand."

"The other curators I work with are just passing the buck, and the media bosses don't care and don't understand. Some even like to act like experts just because they invested in a farm in Canada, even though they can't tell the difference between types of wheat."

Lois also gave a bitter smile. "Who knows if this was just a snap decision by the Congress? It's just us poor folks running around every day, unable to find a solution."

Clark pondered for a moment, then said, "No, I don't think it was a rash decision. They are serious about wanting to do this right."

"Why do you say that?" Diana asked.

"You should know I've been reporting on Cat Getan lately. Surprisingly, Cat Getan is truly trying to transform. Whether it's the architectural renovation projects, the development of tourism and gambling, or exploring the potential of the beaches for fishing, these have brought about different changes."

"Although people always think of Metropolis when they think of the East Coast, Cat Getan and Metropolis are both megacities. They share many similarities in history, geography, culture, and economy."

"And in some ways, Cat Getan might have the advantage. Wei En Enterprises has provided too many jobs for that city. If they go all-in on reform, the pressure will definitely fall on Metropolis."

"So, Metropolis wants to start with agriculture?" Diana rubbed her chin and nodded. "That's a good angle. No matter how Cat Getan reforms, it can't do agriculture; the weather there is too terrible."

"That's why we have to do this right," Lois said anxiously. "This can bring a better life to the farmers in the Metropolis area and also radiate into the livestock and fishing industries."

Diana nodded in agreement. The drive from the city to the town wasn't short, but it wasn't long either. Yet, the topics they had to discuss were endless. Before they could even finish the preliminary exchanges, they had arrived at the gate of the Kent farm.

Diana got out of the car. The breeze blew through her hair, and she seemed to find it comfortable and cool. She undid her hair, letting her long, flowing black hair fall down.

"I envy your hair the most," Lois said, reaching out to touch Diana's long hair. "Themyscira must be a wonderful place. When I take a long vacation, I must go there."

Diana smiled. "If you go, you must write a report on our tourism industry. We would all be very grateful."

"I heard the Amazons are actively developing tourism," Clark said, pushing open the farm gate and leading them inside. "Perhaps you'll have something to talk about with Bruce. Cat Getan is also developing tourism recently."

Diana glanced at Bruce. During the discussion about Metropolis agriculture in the car, Bruce had slept the entire way without saying a word, which piqued her curiosity.

For many women, a man's charm doesn't lie in interrupting others to loudly express opinions, but in knowing when to remain quiet. A listener has an intellectual charm, and a reduced sense of aggression makes one feel safe.

Before entering, Bruce stood by the door, letting the others change their shoes. Clark looked over; although Bruce had no expression, Clark could see a sense of "watching the show" in his eyes.

Sure enough, the moment Diana stepped inside, before her other foot had even touched the ground, Martha's screams and Jonathan's praises flooded over her. They circled Diana, praising her for three minutes without repeating a single word.

And after Lois entered, they immediately repeated everything Clark had said about Lois since he started working, then praised her for several minutes, again without repeating a single word.

Bruce, standing by the door, had intended to watch how these two new guests would be overwhelmed, but Diana flipped her long black hair and said:

"When I first saw Clark today, I knew he must have a beautiful mother. I don't mean just her appearance; Clark's speech and upbringing immediately made me imagine a gentle, beautiful, considerate, and patient lady—just like my own mother."

"Thank you, ma'am. I see you're cooking something on the stove. I heard from Clark that you prepared a feast. If it's convenient, may I lend a hand? My father brought back dried fish from a trip to Canada, and the soup made from it is delicious." Lois also walked up and opened the bag in her hand.

Martha covered her mouth, patted Jonathan's arm vigorously, and said, "I told you we should have had a daughter! Look at these beautiful, polite young ladies... how lucky their mothers must be!"

"Come on in, girls. Dinner will be ready soon. And you, Bruce, stop standing there like a statue. Go sit at the dining table."

Bruce, leaning against the doorframe, sighed lightly. Diana and Lois's ease and casualness reminded him of his own past mental health diagnoses.

But this didn't stop him from feeling a sense of schadenfreude when, after dinner started, he saw the mountain of food on Diana's plate.

Soon, that feeling was replaced by shock. Diana was clearing her plate at a speed that left afterimages. In the end, she even picked up the plate and dumped the remaining food into her mouth.

Finally, the beautiful black-haired princess gave Martha a thumbs-up, and Martha beamed with joy.

There is one common trait among mothers in this world—they love children who have a healthy appetite.

There is another common characteristic of mothers in this world—they like children who can eat.