American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 226 The Way of Farming is contained within it.

The warm spring sun shines generously on this vast land.

The air was filled with the scent of freshly turned earth.

The spring plowing, which usually takes a long time, is now miraculously nearing its end.

The newly turned furrows are neat and uniform, the winter wheat is lush and green, the areas where seeds have just been sown are full of life, and in the well-planned orchards, rows of newly planted apple and pear saplings sway gently in the breeze.

In the newly planned apple orchard not far away, Locke was bending over, carefully placing a sapling into a hole and covering it with soil.

He straightened up, wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and his gaze casually swept across the farm.
Then you can see the source of this 'miracle,' which is now spread throughout every corner of the farm.

In the fields, on the ridges, even in mid-air…

Countless Ron Joneses, dressed in identical black suits and resembling Calvin Swanwick, are simultaneously carrying out various farm tasks with dazzling efficiency.

Some of the Rong En lined up in a row, their movements perfectly synchronized as they used telekinesis to control the planter, precisely placing the corn seeds into the soil.
Some of the Rong En floated in mid-air, planting saplings one by one into the pre-dug pits.
Some of the Rong En were in the composting area, using telekinesis to efficiently stir the fertilizer.
There were even a few Rong Ens repairing the fence, their movements so fast that they were just afterimages.

Thousands?

No, perhaps more.

Looking around, it seemed as if the entire farm was submerged by 'Ron'.

They are silent and efficient, like an emotionless, tireless army of agricultural production.

Locke froze, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly involuntarily.

He really forgot.
In theory, as long as he has enough energy and mental strength, this Martian hunter could even create tens of thousands of mental clones!
Saying things like "ten days or half a month" before was simply an insult to this interstellar friend's productivity!
"Locke."

A calm voice sounded beside me.

Locke gritted his teeth and turned around, only to see the only 'original body' member, Ron, who wasn't working, standing next to him, slowly eating an Oreo cookie.
This guy didn't even realize when he went to get his snacks.

"Is there anything else that needs to be sown or transplanted?"

Rong En asked, his tone as calm as ever.

It was as if this magical scene before them was perfectly normal.

Locke stared at that expressionless face, then looked around at the black ocean, and a nameless anger surged in his heart.

He pointed to the nearly one hundred acres of uncultivated, overgrown wasteland at the northernmost part of the farm:
"Go!" His voice was filled with suppressed anger. "Loosen up all of those 100 acres behind the house! Thirty centimeters deep, not a single weed is allowed to remain!"

"Do we need to fertilize at the same time?" Rong En asked calmly.

"Take care of the soil first," Locke glared at him. "Don't push your luck; you're thinking about the next step before you've even finished the first one!"

"Ok."

Rong En nodded slightly and put the last Oreo into his mouth.

He turned around and strolled leisurely toward the wasteland to the north.

If we ignore what is happening to him.
With each step he took, one after another identical clones emerged from his body, separating silently like cells dividing, and then transformed into streaks of black light, expressionlessly rushing towards the vast wasteland!

Loosen the soil, crush grass roots, level the land...

All processes proceeded simultaneously at an astonishing speed in the hands of these clones.

Locke stood there, watching Ron's slow, leisurely back as his main body moved, and the torrent of clones constantly 'erupting' from his body, feeling his blood pressure rise a little.

He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, and finally could only shake his head helplessly, bending down to continue tending to his newly planted apple sapling.

Trying to compete with an alien that can mobilize an entire army to farm at any time? That's just asking for trouble.

"Pfft."

A clear, light laugh came from the side.

Locke looked up irritably and saw Kara standing not far away next to another row of newly planted pear saplings.

The girl was wearing a simple black T-shirt with a light blue denim shirt over it, the sleeves casually rolled up to her elbows, revealing her smooth forearms.

She wore well-fitting dark cargo pants, the cuffs tucked into a pair of sturdy-looking brown work boots, and her long golden hair was tied into a neat high ponytail at the back of her head.

Sunlight streamed down on her, outlining her slender yet powerful silhouette.

He was a completely different person from the one who had been engrossed in eating at the dinner table just a few days ago.

"What are you laughing at..."

Locke deliberately glared at her, pointing to the pile of unplanted apple saplings next to him. "If you think it's fun, come and plant some trees for me! The farm doesn't support idlers."

Upon hearing this, Kara raised her beautiful eyebrows, seemingly not quite satisfied with the title of 'idle person', but she still walked over, picked up a sapling, and, imitating Locke's earlier actions, found the marked spot and casually prepared to put it into the pit.

She quickly filled the hole with soil, which was probably as easy for her as sticking a chopstick in the ground.

"Stop, stop, stop!"

Locke felt a headache coming on when he saw her posture and quickly spoke up to stop her.

He quickly stepped forward and squatted down by the pit, gesturing for Kara to come closer to look.

“Kara, planting a tree isn’t just about shoving it into the ground.” Locke said patiently, digging at the soil in the hole. “Look, this hole needs to be dug deeper and wider to give the roots enough space to grow.”

"The soil at the bottom should be loose, and it's best to mix in some base fertilizer, but it shouldn't directly contact the roots; you need to separate it with a thin layer of soil..."

As he spoke, he demonstrated with his hands how to spread out the roots of the sapling instead of tucking them in in a clump.

"Then when filling the soil, you need to do it layer by layer, compacting it slightly, but not too tightly, to ensure it's breathable and permeable..."

"See this grafting point? It needs to be exposed, not buried in the soil, otherwise it will easily rot..."

Locke's rambling mingled with the soft rustling of dirt as his hands moved with meticulous skill.

Kara initially pursed her lips and didn't take it seriously, but seeing Locke's focused and downcast expression and the meticulous movements of his hands, she gradually put away her casual attitude.

A serious light filled his eyes.

"Plants can't speak, but they can sense whether you're paying attention to them or not." Locke gently patted the soil he had just filled in, his tone carrying a deeper meaning. "If you fool it, it won't grow good fruit and fool you in the future. There are many twists and turns involved; it's not just about having strength."

“Like this.” Blinking, Kara carefully stroked the newly planted sapling, her gaze sweeping over another row of slightly different saplings beside it, and asked curiously:

"These apple trees look a little different to me. What variety are they?"

“This is ‘Tianrun’,” Locke pointed to the row closest to them, then to another row a little further away, “That’s ‘Micui’.”

His tone unconsciously carried the pride one would show when introducing one's own child.

Kara felt even more proud than when Locke had introduced Shen Du and Salafir to her earlier.

She chuckled softly, a hint of curiosity in her voice, "But I seem to see those called 'Zaojie' and 'Fuji' more often in the supermarket; they're a beautiful red."

"And it's quite soft to eat."

“Really? Those are indeed very common varieties.” Locke smiled upon hearing this. “But springtime in Kansas isn’t suitable for planting them.”

Looking up at the clear sky, Locke seemed to be able to see the possible weather changes in the future.

“Late frost is a killer of flower buds and young fruit.” He looked away, tapping the sapling in front of him with his finger. “Although ‘Fuji’ is also a late-maturing variety, it’s not bad.”

"But since we're going to plant them, we should put in the effort."

"So I spent a lot of money to bring these late-maturing varieties from the East. They bloom about two months later than the local varieties and are harvested at the end of October."

"Not only can it avoid most of the threats from night creams, but it also happens to coincide with the harvest season."

“For example,” he paused, then added, “look at the pear trees next to you; they actually bloom a few days later.”

Kara nodded thoughtfully, sunlight casting dappled shadows beneath her long eyelashes.

She suddenly noticed another detail and traced her finger between the two orchards: "Then why are apples and pears planted as two different varieties? I see over there too, the pear trees are also divided into two types."

Locke straightened up, a bright smile spreading across his face that said, "Finally, someone has asked the right question."

at last
Finally, someone asked him why he planted it that way.

Locke was somewhat moved. He took off his gloves, took out a small notebook from the tool bag next to him, and casually drew two simple tree-shaped patterns.

"This is a crucial question."

He pointed to the two patterns with his finger. "Most apple and pear trees are like two stubborn old friends, guarding their pride and refusing to use their pollen to fulfill themselves."

Kara tilted her head slightly, sunlight swirling in her azure eyes, reflecting a hint of confusion.

"They need another tree of a different species to transfer pollen in order to produce full fruit. We call this 'self-incompatibility'."

Seeing that Kara's eyes were still clouded with confusion, Locke smiled and used a more vivid metaphor to dispel the fog, "Simply put, even trees are afraid of 'inbreeding.' It's a clever method they've evolved, forcing themselves to 'intermarry' with other species, resulting in offspring..."

"It is the fruit that will be healthier and stronger, with more diverse genes."

He drew several connecting lines between the two tree patterns to represent the transfer of pollen.

“So as long as it’s pollen of the same species, and it lands on the pistil of the same species,” Locke shook his head, “the pollen is like a ‘family member’ that has been recognized. It will be blocked outside, or simply prevented from growing, and pollination cannot be completed at all.”

Kara suddenly realized, her blue eyes widening slightly:
"Then we must plant two different varieties, so that they can...be neighbors? Help each other?"

"That's right!"

Locke nodded approvingly and put the notebook away. "That's called 'properly selecting pollinator trees.' When planting them, you have to make sure there are other compatible varieties nearby that bloom at the same time. It's like finding suitable 'partners' for these trees."

He lowered his voice humorously:

"Otherwise, no matter how beautifully the flowers bloom, they will eventually wither and fade in loneliness."

Seeing Locke's eyes light up and his proud expression as he spoke eloquently because someone had asked him a crucial question, Kara couldn't help but smile, a slight curve appearing on her lips.

This powerful Mr. Locke does not seem to be as simple as he appears, merely a tough being capable of tearing space apart with his bare hands and annihilating monsters with lightning.
He would also reveal such a pure and enthusiastic desire to share when someone finally asked him a question that he had carefully planned.

perhaps
It is this deep-rooted respect and understanding of the cycle of life that supports his strong inner strength to protect the stars and his home.
Kara suppressed her smile and, mimicking Locke's movements, bent down to compact the soil, ensuring the sapling could stand firmly.

She lowered her head, her golden ponytail slipping down her shoulders, the ends of her hair dancing like shattered gold in the spring sunlight.

And then, as if it were just casual conversation, he asked in a low voice:
"Did Carl... Clark do the same thing? I mean, plant them little by little by hand like this?"

Seeing that Kara was already making pretty good movements, Locke smiled upon hearing this:

“Him? He wasn’t this patient when he was a kid.” Locke shook his head, as if recalling an interesting scene. “That kid wanted to use his super speed to scatter all the seeds in a flash, or dig a row of holes in a few quick strokes.”

"The result was either crushing the seeds, pulling up the corn stalks by the roots as weeds, or accidentally digging a hole big enough to bury yourself in."

“Jonathan and I have had a lot of headaches about this.”

Locke's tone contained no blame, only amusement and acceptance of the past.

"Later we realized that having him do meticulous work was a waste of the seedlings. So in the end we usually sent him to fertilize, or used his super eyesight to check for pests and diseases."

“He’s quite adept at this; he can spot a few aphids hiding on a leaf from a great distance,” Locke said, a sly smile playing on his lips, a hint of 'making the most of what he has.' “And now that he can fly, theoretically he could even spray pesticides evenly while flying through the air—that would be incredibly efficient.” *Pfft—*

Kara imagined the scene: a figure in a red and blue battle suit hovering in the air, holding a pesticide sprayer, seriously and meticulously spraying pesticide on the cornfield...

She couldn't help but chuckle softly, her shoulders twitching slightly.

It seems my cousin's childhood wasn't all sunshine and corn syrup. At least when it comes to these 'basic farm skills,' he doesn't seem to have learned them as quickly as I have.

But then, another thought flashed through her mind.

Can't control your strength?

Really? Given Kryptonians' natural control over their bodies, especially after growing up steadily under this yellow sun for over a decade…

Precisely crushing seeds might require control, but for normal sowing...

Kara's blue eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at her mud-covered hands, and a more subtle conjecture surfaced in her mind.

perhaps…

That kid wasn't uncontrollable back then at all.

He just wanted a clumsy excuse to spend more time with his father and Uncle Locke and hear more of their seemingly nagging but actually caring advice.

This idea deepened the smile on Kara's face.

She raised her head and looked out at the boundless fields in the distance, as if she could see how, many years ago, a little boy with black hair awkwardly sought love and attention in his own unique way on this land.

She didn't say anything more, but lowered her head and carefully spread out the roots of the next sapling, gently placing it into the dug hole, her movements more skillful than before.

Locke watched quietly from the side.

The girl bent over, her blonde hair slipping down her shoulders, sunlight casting dappled shadows on her focused profile.

Her fingers were covered in mud, yet her movements possessed a natural dexterity, as if this land was meant to come alive in her hands.

Maybe Krypton's intended profession for her was actually farmer?
Locke couldn't help but laugh out loud. Then, after she finished planting the batch of saplings and stood up to rest for a while, he asked, "Do you like planting trees?"

Upon hearing this, Kara subconsciously raised her hand to smooth her sideburns, her fingertips lingering on her hair for a moment, as if pondering this simple question.

"It's alright," she replied casually, but her gaze unconsciously drifted to the newly planted saplings. "But... it really does calm you down. You can focus all your attention on this one sapling, and it seems like you don't have to think about anything else for the time being."

Locke nodded with satisfaction, a 'I knew it' smile on his face.

He didn't say anything more, but simply took out a small, dark green notebook with slightly worn edges and a few mud spots on the cover from the pocket of his work pants and handed it over.

“This was left behind by the previous apprentice and the apprentice before him. They returned it to me before they left, and now I am giving it to you.”

Kara hesitantly took the booklet.

She turned to a page containing Locke's slightly messy but neat handwriting, interspersed with some simple and clear illustrations.

But after turning down a few more pages...
Then I saw
Lex Luthor.

Bruce Wayne.

Two large names were written on one of the pages, and there seemed to be a message from the two people following behind.

"Those who come after you will love it here." — Lex Luthor

"Don't believe what's written above!" — Bruce Wayne

Kara blinked, a hint of confusion appearing in her clear eyes.

"The secret to farming lies within this."

Seemingly unaware of what Kara had seen, Locke simply said proudly, "It's nothing profound, just some old-fashioned methods I've memorized over the years, like when to fertilize, when to control pests..."

"Here you go, take a look when you have time."

"."

Pretending not to have seen the words left by the first two apprentices, Kara gently closed the notebook.

After hesitating for a moment, he nodded seriously to Locke.
-
The night was as dark as ink, but the Kent house was still lit by a warm yellow light.

The long wooden table was laden with a sumptuous dinner prepared by Martha, a celebration of the near completion of spring planting.

The stew simmered in the earthenware pot, releasing a rich aroma; the freshly baked blueberry pie exuded the sweet warmth of butter and cinnamon; and the vegetables in the fresh salad still carried the freshness of dew.

The group sat together, the sounds of clinking knives and forks, chewing, and relaxed laughter creating a harmonious atmosphere.

until
Just as everyone was enjoying their meal, Locke wiped his mouth with a napkin, tapped the glass in front of him lightly, making a crisp sound that attracted everyone's attention.

"Family members..." He looked around, his gaze lingering on each familiar face for a moment, and began in a casual tone, "I have something to say..."

They stopped what they were doing and looked at Locke with curiosity.

Even Virgil and Dante, who had been chattering away, stopped talking and stared intently at Locke with their big eyes.

"I'm planning a business trip to the Mediterranean for a while."

"Pfft-cough cough cough!"

Clark, who was drinking milk, almost choked and quickly covered his mouth.

"Bang!"

Jonathan dropped his fork into the plate with a crisp sound.

Even the usually expressionless God slowed down his chewing.

Dior paused, his hand holding the knife and fork still, and his scarlet eyes narrowed slightly.

Salafir and Kayla both gaped open, as if they had heard something out of the Arabian Nights.

After all, spring planting has only just ended, and now...

wrong!

The key point is...
This man is actually going on a business trip?!

This man, who hasn't left Kansas for years and rarely even leaves Smallville, is actually going to faraway Greece?!
A hush fell over the table, and everyone wore an expression of disbelief.

Locke took in everyone's reactions and a smile appeared on his face.

He slowly picked up his water glass, took a sip, and then glanced meaningfully at Ron, who was elegantly cutting a steak next to him as if it were none of his business.

"Thanks to someone"

Locke's voice carried a hint of helplessness, "This year, our farm's spring planting was completed more than twice as fast as the previous record, which gave us a lot of extra time out of nowhere."

“So, I’m planning to take a long vacation.” He leaned back in his chair, his tone becoming more relaxed. “I’m going to the Mediterranean, soak up the sun, feel the Aegean breeze, and taste authentic Greek yogurt and olive oil… just as… a field study of agriculture there?”

His reason was perfectly plausible.

As a result, the initial shock at the dinner table was gradually replaced by a more complex emotion.
Understanding, curiosity, and a touch of reluctance.

Locke looked at his family, smiled, and added, "Don't worry, it won't take too long. I'm at ease with you all looking after the farm."

"And if I want to come back, it will be very soon."

After all, it has the Yama Blade and even the Dragon Court Space.
It's just a matter of a passageway.

"Let's go to Greece."

Martha put down her napkin, her brow furrowing with concern. "Are you alone? Locke, is it safe over there? I've heard things haven't been peaceful lately, and there's the language barrier..."

"Are you used to the food? Do you want me to prepare some common medicines for you and..."

“Martha Locke is almost our age now, how can you still think of him as that kid who went to the big city to beg and make his way in the world?” Jonathan chimed in, skillfully defusing Martha’s excessive worry.

Moreover, Jonathan was more interested in the specific arrangements than in concerns about Locke's safety.

After all, this was a shared yearning between men for distant places, which made him eagerly ask, "Greece? How do you plan to get there? By plane? Or..."

“Let’s take a plane,” Locke met Jonathan’s gaze, the two men sharing an unspoken understanding. “The scenery along the way is quite nice.”

"Dad! Daddy!"

Salafir slid off the chair, ran to Locke's side, tugged at his sleeve, her eyes filled with longing for a distant land. "Are there many, many gods in Greek mythology? Will you go to see the temples? Will you see the real Athena? Can...can you bring me back one of those leaf-woven headdresses?"

He gestured with his hand to indicate the shape of the laurel wreath, as if the wreath was already shimmering in his hair.

At the other end of the table, Shen Du also stopped what he was doing, his golden eyes glancing at Locke. Although he didn't speak, a hint of expectation was clearly visible in his eyes.

It's clearly a request to get me some rare minerals and some strange antiques.

Clark couldn't help but speak up, adjusting his glasses and expressing a subtle concern for Locke's solo journey: "Uncle Locke, is the sea in Greece really as blue as in the photos? Where are you planning to go? If... I mean, if you need any help..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear.

"Clark, you'll only cause trouble for Father if you go." Dio sneered. "With your ability to attract trouble wherever you go, don't end up causing Father headaches instead of putting him at ease."

"."

Locke couldn't help but chuckle at Dio's barbed words.

His gaze fell gently on Clark's slightly embarrassed face, and he smiled:
"Clark, I understand what you mean."

"But for this trip, my uncle wants to experience it in a way that is more like that of an ordinary person. Taking a commercial airliner, mingling with other tourists, slowing down to watch the clouds drift by, and tasting airplane food... these are all part of the experience in themselves."

“Okay.” Clark listened and couldn’t help but laugh, the worry behind his glasses gradually dissipating. “Looks like I’ll have to go to the library and borrow a few Greek travel guides.”

"That way, when you come back, we'll be able to see where the photos you took were taken."

"You can even understand Greek?" Dio scoffed, then picked up his water glass, took a sip, and said, "I'll be going home earlier these days to keep an eye on the farm for you."

"Please enjoy your journey with peace of mind."

He didn't look at Locke; his gaze was fixed on the deep night outside the window.

These words, though awkward, warmed Locke's heart.

He knew what Dior meant.

This is the protection it has pledged in its own way.

When he goes on his journey, all the storms will be kept out of the farm.

"So."

Locke smiled, picked up his water glass again, and raised it slightly. "The farm, Virgil, Dante, I'm leaving them all to you."

(End of this chapter)