BDSMST -Chapter 146 His Highness the Prince’s First Experience with the Hoe

The next morning, before dawn had fully broken, Leo was awakened by a sharp clanging of bells.

Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he sat up on the wooden plank bed, which felt unusually hard to him, staring around in confusion. Back in the Frank palace, he would usually sleep until the sun was high, rising lazily with the help of his servants.

A servant from the manor entered carrying a wooden basin. Inside was a neatly folded set of rough cloth clothes and a pair of black cloth shoes.

“Young Master Leo, it’s time to get up. These clothes have been prepared by Madam Gu for you—they’re for your lessons.” The servant put down the basin and then pointed to the well outside. “You’ll need to fetch the water for washing yourself.”

Leo looked at the rough cloth outfit, frowning deeply. In his country, only the lowest-ranking servants wore such coarse fabric. They wanted him to wear this? And fetch water himself?

Suppressing his discontent, he clumsily changed into the clothes. Accustomed to silk and velvet, the coarse texture made his skin itch. He went outside and saw many others dressed in the same way, queuing at the well for water. They smiled at him kindly, seeing his awkwardness.

Breakfast was another shock. There was no buttered white bread, no sizzling bacon, and no warm goat milk. On the table was a large bowl of plain white porridge, several dishes of oddly colored pickles, and steaming white dough buns he couldn’t even name.

“These are mantou, and these are pickles—eat them with the porridge,” a young man sitting next to him said, noticing his confusion. He handed Leo a bun, gesturing with half-formed Mandarin.

Leo bit into the mantou—it had no taste. He tried the pickles, and the strong saltiness made him grimace. But he was starving, so he forced down the simple breakfast into his noble stomach.

After breakfast, the so-called “opening ceremony” began.

There were no elaborate rituals or long speeches. Jiang Suisui simply stood before all the “students” and said a few words:

“Welcome to Woniu Village. From today on, your only identity is that of a student. Here, there are no nobles or commoners. The only standard by which you will be judged is how well your crops grow.”

Her gaze lingered briefly on Leo.

“Now, go collect your farming tools and head to the fields. Your teacher will be waiting there.”

Leo followed the others and received a brand-new hoe and a sickle. The hoe was heavy; the cold metal and rough wooden handle felt completely foreign.

He was assigned a small plot of land. Beside it stood his “teacher” for the day—a young man roughly his age, wearing the same coarse clothes, with healthy bronze skin, idly picking at his teeth with a blade of grass.

Leo recognized him. During breakfast, he had sat next to him. His name was Li Er.

Li Er lazily straightened and pointed at the small green weeds sprouting from the ground, then at the hoe, making a downward motion.

The meaning was clear: remove the weeds.

Leo took a deep breath and, imitating the farmers he remembered, swung the hoe. However, he overestimated his strength and underestimated the technique required. He struck too hard; the hoe sank deeply into the soil, missing the weeds and splattering mud all over his face.

He tried to pull the hoe out, only to find it stuck fast, immovable.

“Pfft,” Li Er couldn’t help but laugh.

Leo’s face flushed crimson. He felt humiliated. In the palace, he was a beloved prince, a prodigy in swordsmanship and horsemanship—but here, he couldn’t even manage a simple hoe.

The next hour was a nightmare. He either swung too hard, using the hoe like an axe, or angled it incorrectly, scraping the ground without reaching any weeds. When he finally removed a few, he accidentally uprooted a precious chili seedling as well.

Li Er shook his head, unable to watch any longer, and stepped forward to snatch the hoe from Leo’s hands.

“Watch closely!” he said in broken Mandarin.

Li Er lowered his body slightly, used his waist to drive the motion, and flicked his wrists with precision. The hoe struck exactly at the roots of the weeds, and with a gentle pull, the weeds were removed cleanly while the nearby crops remained untouched. His movements were fluid, rhythmic, almost like a dance rather than work.

Leo stared in amazement.

Li Er demonstrated a few more times, then handed the hoe back to him, grabbing Leo’s hands to guide him into the correct posture and swinging with him.

The language barrier was the biggest obstacle. Li Er couldn’t explain “waist and legs as one” or how to apply wrist strength. He could only repeat the basic motions over and over, using the most direct body language.

By the end of the morning, Leo’s arms no longer felt like his own. His waist ached, his back ached, and blisters had formed on his palms.

When the lunch bell rang, he nearly threw down the hoe and collapsed on the field ridge, gasping. He looked at his mud-covered body and blistered hands, then at the seemingly endless weeds in the field, and for the first time felt a deep sense of despair.

He began to seriously doubt whether traveling so far to this godforsaken place to learn how to be a farmer had been the right decision.