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... "I’m not a farmer, I’m not a farmer," but as it stood, he indeed was a farmer, and he knew full well that if he asked his master, there would be no need to even think about it.
As long as it could be turned into food, he could deal with it in any way.
Even if it meant pulling up his herbs.
"Alright then, I’ll give you a piece. What do you want to plant?" In the end, he had no choice but to compromise; that’s just what happens when you’re under someone’s roof.
"Don ...
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