"As I was about to leave this town, I realized that there were many employees working under my dad, many of whom weren't very well-off. They relied on working at my dad's farm to earn their living, and the agricultural products we exported also fed a lot of people—truck drivers delivering goods, supermarket cashiers, and even the cleaners at the supermarket."
"I had a responsibility to them, I had to keep the Kent Farm running as always to sustain their lives. This was the viewpoint my dad imparted to me, and I've always kept it close to heart."
"But fundamentally, the day-to-day labor in the fields didn't hold any special meaning for me. It was just a form of labor I engaged in to fulfill my responsibilities. I didn't hate it, but I wasn't particularly fond of it either. Compared to it, I still preferred being a journalist."
"If I truly loved farm work with all my heart, I would never have left that small town. That's the case for many children of farmers there—they don't go to college, they don't go to big cities, and they might even spend their entire lives in that small town."
"Whenever I remember that I once had that choice, I feel somewhat relieved that I came to Metropolis. I love everything about this place, and perhaps I had also grown tired of the uneventful life in Smallville."
"Later, I went to Mexico, which was a bit too thrilling, but it brought the greatest change in me, making me finally understand the significance of the process of plowing the land, sowing seeds, and reaping crops."
"What I once considered merely a laborious process was because I had never worried about the harvest. With such vast land producing food, my family of three could eat for generations without finishing it. What difference would it make if more or less was produced?"
"Whether the harvest was abundant or not was just a series of numbers to me. Higher numbers meant that my father would be happier, perhaps he would even buy me a new toy, and uncles and aunts would have smiles plastered across their faces."
"When the harvest was poor, they weren't particularly unhappy; they would occasionally complain about the weather and encourage each other to try again next year. My father would just sigh in concern and quickly return to his room to study how to improve production."
"But in Mexico, it was not like that. From the moment the seeds were sown, everyone began to pray with almost devout fervor, hoping for just one more ear on a corn stalk."
"Their allegiance to this laborious process was fanatical, even spawning many cultural aspects without any rhyme or reason. Each village would chant different spells when sowing corn seeds, believing it would yield a greater harvest."
"When they had a good harvest, they praised the land and the harvest gods with a zeal that surpassed any devout believer. It made me think that if the harvest gods suddenly descended and asked for their sacrifice, they would surely agree."
"But when they had a poor harvest, it wasn't just sadness or concern; it was a terrifying despair, an agony so severe that it instilled a fear of death in me, an atmosphere I had never before encountered."
"As I walked through those villages, I felt as if everyone was a walking corpse, floating past me like lost souls, stripped of all the vitality I used to see in them, and there was nothing I could do to console them."
"Because I knew that in the following period, some would go hungry. Hunger is an emotion that cannot be consoled—you feel your stomach devouring your heart, your brain, everything, grabbing your arms to stuff anything edible into your mouth."
"People suffering from long-term hunger simply don't look human. They appear to be bizarre creatures that have burst from another dimension, their gaze, behavior, and attitude no longer resemble the human race; they have mutated into something else."
"Their gaze filled me with fear."
"During the process of heading south with Oliver, we saw too many such people; they often squatted, bone-thin, in the corners of rooms, lay under tattered covers in the nooks of streets, next to sheep pens, and by wells, staring at you with a piercing gaze."
"For a long time, I couldn't bear to meet those eyes, and when I gave them food, I dared not look at their frenzied expressions. It profoundly shook my perception of the human race—they weren't supposed to be like this."
"But later, we managed to feed many of these people, which made me realize that the problem wasn't with them, but with their empty stomachs that had long had nothing to fill them."
"Food is the best tool to expel the devils haunting them. When they saw the abundance of harvested food and realized there was enough to include their share, the fire in their eyes burned fiercely, as though it wanted to consume their souls."
"At that moment, I deeply understood the hidden meaning behind the cultivation process, masked by labor—it was hope."
"As you till the land, you imagine the wheat sprouts germinating; the moment the sprout breaks through the soil, you dream of it growing tall; as soon as the sprout changes color, you fantasize about heavy wheat ears bending their stems; and with the ears barely in the basket, the scent of cooking fills your nostrils."
"Never has any work in the world been so filled with hope, with gratitude, and so poignant from beginning to end."
"When I returned to Smallville, when I saw the land once again that had produced the food that raised me, a wave of emotion almost brought me to tears."
"I felt an impatient urge to rush to the fields, to personally bury seeds in the carefully tended fertile soil, to sit on the ridge and watch the seeds sprout without blinking, and to eat a big bowl of rice when I was hungriest and most exhausted."
A warm glow twinkled in Clark's blue eyes, like the last dab of blue blended into the afterglow of the setting sun, forcing Shiller to slightly avert her gaze, damn those blue eyes.
"For a long time afterward, every time I saw a field, I would start calculating in my mind what to plant, when to plant it, about what month the harvest would come, and how much each acre could yield... until I even reached the point where I pondered planting a few cabbages in someone else's flowerpot."
"My father noticed the extra fervor I held and I told him about my experience in Mexico, he said I had done well, and he shared with me his bond with the land."
"The Kent family is different from Mexicans; we have long passed the stage of just needing to eat our fill. To us, farming is a legacy, passed down from my great-grandfather, grandfather to my father; our family has toiled on this land for generations."
"This seemingly ordinary piece of land has nurtured many generations of us, allowing us to build such a large farm and ranch, making my father quite a renowned farmer, and also allowing me to venture to the big city and witness a broader world."
"It amazes me because farming is such a simple task and the process of producing food is not complex, yet it accomplishes such great deeds."
"This gradually helped me understand the fervor of those Mexicans; the land is so generous and kind, giving us so much, yet it seems everyone overlooks this fact."
"There's not a single civilization on this world that doesn't root in the land; it has remained constant for millions of years, serving as the foundation for people's complex and elaborate anthills, weathering storms without asking for anything in return."
"This shakes me to the core and also makes me humble. If there's only one god that every human being should sincerely admire and worship in this world, it shouldn't be above their heads, but beneath their feet."
"Heaven and earth are too vast, making everything incredibly tiny. Compared to the land that has nourished all of humanity, I'm no different from an ant scurrying about its mundane tasks in its anthill."
"Every time I think of this, I feel a comforting sense of security because as I walk on this land, as I labor here, as the seeds I plant sprout, as I remain insignificant in this boundless world, it nourishes me just as it nourishes you; there is no difference between us."
"I'm no longer the enforcer of justice in my heart, no longer your Father, but like all of you, a son of the land, and this brings me relaxation and exhilaration."
"Perhaps this will also be the biggest difference between me and other Supermen." Clark said with a smile, "It's not about whether we resort to violence, but what we do it for."
"If I consider myself a god, maintaining justice requires that I remain detached from society, an observer who oversees everything, existing like the frost, snow, and rain."
"But if I regard myself as a child of this land, no different from any of you, then I can, like you, pursue the justice I desire with my own means, fighting for my people and myself at all costs."
"There's a big difference. I will no longer be an adjudicator of justice; my justice may no longer be the common good. It's not because society has made certain rules not allowed, that I will forbid everyone to do so; it's not because the majority of society chooses something, that I will consider it right."
"From now on, I'll hold only one principle: there should be no demons of hunger tormenting humans. They should receive the nourishment they deserve from the soil beneath their feet; there is no greater justice than a full stomach."
"If this differs from a societal rule, I will overturn that rule; if it's not someone's choice, I will stand against them; that's what I am going to do."
"As for the use of violence, there's no need to worry so much about that." Clark's tone began to turn cold as he said, "My brain can control and manage my body with efficiency millions of times higher than humans; I can hit the precise values after the decimal point that their detection devices require."
"My mental state is also very stable; my emotional response logic and output are clearer, more explicit, and healthier than 99% of people in this world. I simply won't lose control."
"You're being too modest then," Shiller said earnestly: "Believe in yourself, you're much more stable than all of humanity, whether as individuals or in their collective entirety, whether personal consciousness or collective consciousness, it's hard for anyone to be healthier than you."
Such candidness made Clark somewhat bashful; he looked at Shiller and said, "Really? Doctor, do you think so highly of me?"
"You have to believe me, I may be unscrupulous, but I'm certainly not a quack."