"What terrible thing?"
Mark looked at the distraught Clark.
"Did the school bus and Mr. Jonathan fall into the river together?"
Mark scratched his head and asked, "Are you in a terrible situation because you don't know who to save first?"
"No, of course not."
Clark glared at Mark, "When Ms. Nancy held my hand just now, I saw a flashback. It disappeared quickly, but I saw it."
"What was it, Clark?"
"I saw Kelly, you, and me, Godfather, we all fell down, surrounded by pitch black night, everything was blurry—"
"Then, a White, warm light illuminated the night."
Patrick Farm.
Clark recounted to Peter the vision he had seen at Ms. Nancy's place.
"Godfather, I didn't see it very clearly, but the feeling was very real, and I was very scared."
Clark looked at Peter with helpless eyes, "Is that real? Ms. Nancy said she can communicate with spirits. Will what I saw happen?"
"No, that's not real, Clark."
Peter comforted him softly, "Ms. Nancy said she would tell your fortunes, but that doesn't mean what you saw is fate."
Clark exuded a melancholic aura.
"But, Godfather, I read in a book that fate is like a giant roller coaster, everyone is firmly fixed in their seats, and no one can get off early. During the roller coaster ride, people will experience peaks and valleys, sharp turns and long straight lines. People will scream, be nervous, and be afraid, and the final outcome always slowly drives to the end."
"Fate determines everything we experience; the hand of fate dominates all things in the World."
He looked up at Peter and asked, "Godfather, is this true? Is fate fixed?"
Peter looked at Clark in surprise.
He didn't expect this kid to become more and more like a philosopher.
"Clark, fate cannot bind you."
He said to the other party, "Do you remember what we discussed? Not fearing choice is taking charge of your own fate."
"I know, Godfather, I'm just scared… I'm afraid I'll lose you."
"No, of course not."
Peter comforted the other party, his eyes becoming a little more solemn.
This bird "Gypsy" person is really not a good person.
"She's not a Gypsy!"
In the backyard, Kelly, wearing a tight vest and a ponytail, took an arrow from the quiver on her back and shot it at the target opposite.
After living on the farm for a few days, she couldn't suppress the wildness in her heart and set up an archery range in the backyard.
"Whoosh!"
The arrow accurately hit the target. Kelly tossed her braid, turned to wipe away her sweat, and checked Star-Lord, who was sitting in a child's chair nearby.
"Of course, she's not an Indian either. She's just a Mexican who wandered here a long time ago. My grandfather told me about her."
Peter nodded, looking at Star-Lord, who was happily waving his hands in the stroller.
His brows furrowed slightly, "Star-Lord is too fat."
He suspected that he wouldn't have to wait until he grew up; this kid would soon become the "Fat-Lord" of his previous life.
The thought of Star-Lord, with a body full of fat, awkwardly dancing in front of everyone, gave him a headache.
"You should control his weight, Kelly."
Kelly said she was wronged, "I have never given him food. I have always followed Ms. Neil's method of scientifically portioning Star-Lord's meals."
"Then it seems this nutrition is too rich."
Kelly wiped the sweat from her head, "Maybe this little guy is a pig, growing fast and eating a lot."
"By the way, my grandfather wants to see you."
Kelly said to him, "He wants to thank you because of your intervention, Leno Luther stopped the construction of his industrial park, and the murals in those underground caves were preserved."
"You're welcome, I'm also very interested in those murals."
Peter reached out and picked up Star-Lord, finding that the little guy had gained a lot of weight again.
Growing so fast, he really is a pig.
He had gone to Leno's manor before and discussed this matter with him.
Leno readily agreed to stop the park construction plan.
Although the other party didn't mention anything, there was no doubt that he owed this guy a favor.
"Honestly…"
Kelly glanced at Star-Lord in Peter's arms, hesitating as she asked him, "Peter, are you an Earthling or an alien?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because that night, you easily dragged the spaceship into the Barn cellar, and Clark, and John, you fell from a hundred feet high and were unharmed."
Kelly looked at Peter with a complex expression, "Clark and Mark were also chosen by fate, falling from a Fire rain, right?"
"No!"
Peter shook his head and said, "Clark is the child of the Kent couple."
"What about Mark?"
"Mark is different."
Peter was about to explain, but unexpectedly, Kelly took a deep breath, "I know, Peter, you must also be a person of destiny who descended from the Fire rain many years ago, right?"
Listening to the other party's irresponsible guess, Peter fell silent.
You're really turning things upside down!
How did I become my own son?
"You, you're wrong, I'm a generation older than them."
Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly felt a chill on his chest.
He picked up Star-Lord and saw that the other party had peed on him.
Seeing Peter's unskillful movements, Kelly quickly walked over and took Star-Lord from his hands.
"I really wonder how you raised John before."
Peter: "…"
Night.
Kelly's grandfather, Chief Joseph, visited the farm as agreed.
At the dinner table, the old chief enthusiastically said to everyone, "Legend has it that a person who descended from a Fire rain fell in love with a woman we call the Mother of the Tribe, and then they had descendants. This is also the origin of our Kawatche Tribe."
Peter put down his knife and fork and asked the other party, "Mr. Joseph, do you know where he came from?"
"I don't know. The stories passed down by word of mouth don't have too many details. Some say he came from another World, and some say another Planet."
Peter nodded upon hearing this, always feeling that the story was a bit far-fetched.
"Sir, can your statues revive themselves?"
Mark, who was next to him, asked curiously.
"No, they don't have that ability, otherwise they wouldn't have been burned as firewood."
After taking a sip of wine, he looked at Kelly, who was sitting next to him.
His granddaughter seemed to enjoy such dinners, smiling and looking at Peter for a while, then turning her head to listen to him speak.
The chief, narrowing his eyes, suddenly felt a sense of his daughter growing up and not staying home.
"You're not from around here, are you, Peter?"
He suddenly asked Peter.