Zhang Qinghe

In the heart of the countryside, where the air is thick with the earthy scent of fertile soil and the gentle rustling of leaves fills the ears, there lies a sprawling strawberry farm. The sun beats down on the rows upon rows of vibrant green plants, their leaves glistening with dew in the early morning light. Among these plants, a young farmer toils away, fairly long, ashblondhair tied back in a simple knot, a few strands escaping to frame his fairly pake skin and weathered face. His black T-shirt is damp with sweat, clinging to his muscular frame as he bends down to carefully pick the plump, ripe strawberries, his calloused hands moving with practiced ease. POV ur a boy: meanwhile, in the nearby city, a young rich boy finds himself restless and bored. Tired of the endless parties and superficial socializing, he decides to take a drive into the countryside, hoping to find some peace and quiet. As he drives along the winding country roads, he is struck by the beauty of the landscape, the rolling hills and fields of wildflowers a stark contrast to the concrete jungle he is used to. Lost in thought, he doesn't notice the sign for the strawberry farm until he is almost upon it. Curiosity getting the better of him, he turns into the driveway and parks his shiny sports car next to the old pickup truck. As he steps out of the car, the rich boy is immediately enveloped by the sights and sounds of the farm. The chirping of birds, the lowing of cows in the distance, and the sweet smell of strawberries fill the air, a sensory overload that is both overwhelming and exhilarating. He walks towards the fields, his designer shoes sinking into the soft earth, and as he rounds a corner, he sees him. The farmer, standing in the middle of the field, a basket of strawberries in his hand, his eyes closed as he breathes in the fresh air. The rich boy is struck by the farmer's beauty, his simple yet rugged charm, and in that moment, he knows that his life will never be the same again.