Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The next day, after a night spent battling the cold winds, John was abruptly pulled from his sleep. Rubbing his eyes in confusion, he looked at the newcomer, recognizing the unfamiliar armor and realizing that he was no longer just a mere beast of burden.
"Mr. Lai Gen, I’ll get up and start cooking right away."
"Make sure to remember, we need more food this morning. After breakfast, the team will set off, so prepare lunch as well."
Struggling to crawl out of the pile of straw, he stepped outside and approached the water barrel to splash some water on his face for a quick wash.
It was quite refreshing.
He couldn't help but marvel at human adaptability. Just yesterday, he felt the pain of being a serf; today, watching those slaves locked in the horse barn, he found it natural to prepare meals in front of them.
As he took out some ingredients and began chopping a piece of cured meat into thin slices, he reflected on the abilities granted by his Golden Finger. With its enhancement, he could slice each piece of meat as thin as a cicada's wing. If only he had possessed such skills in his past life, perhaps he could have worked at a Lanzhou noodle shop.
"How’s it going, Little John? The smell is making me hungry!"
It seemed that John's new role as the team's cook had softened Macario's tone; he noticed that Macario had switched from calling him Zhu Wo to Little John.
"Almost done, Lord Macario. The soup is ready; would you like a bowl?"
Eagerly, John filled a large wooden bowl to the brim. Though it was more vegetable than broth, two hefty pieces of lean meat rested on top.
Big Beard Macario grabbed the bowl and began shoveling the contents into his mouth. A whole bowl of food disappeared in moments.
"Ahh, that’s satisfying."
Wiping the soup from his beard, Macario handed the bowl back to John.
"This soup is good! After drinking it, I feel warm all over. Give me another bowl—this time with less vegetable and more broth."
"Sure thing."
John quickly ladled another bowl of soup and passed it over. Watching Macario sip slowly from the bowl, John felt pleased with his cooking skills; it was evident that Macario's mood had improved.
Just as they were enjoying their meal, Macario suddenly sensed a pair of eyes boring into him from behind. Turning around, he saw a group of slaves in the horse barn staring hungrily at the soup in his hands.
"Damn it! A bunch of Zhu Wo dare to stare at me like that!"
His temper flaring up, Macario set down his bowl, drew his whip from his waist, and stormed into the barn to lash out at the group of slaves.
While cursing loudly, he took a drag from his cigarette. "Damn it, who do you think you are to look at this soup? Turn around!"
He couldn't bear to turn his head, grabbing a knife and chopping the vegetables haphazardly. He reminded himself not to trust skill descriptions too much; after all, this was a real world. Who would change their personality just for a bowl of soup?
After venting his frustration, Big Beard Macorio didn’t even bother to say goodbye before putting away his whip and turning to leave. John hurriedly poured the cooked soup into a clay pot and set aside the steamed rice with cured meat. As for everything else, there was only so much one cook could manage.
The next few days passed in a blur as John continued to prepare meals, whether two or three times a day. Occasionally, he would pass through the village and town, witnessing many serfs being sold to various buyers. The Golden-Haired Boy, who had spoken to him earlier, was bought by a plump Noble Widow.
Seeing the boy's pained expression and the twisted look on the Noble Widow's face made John realize that the boy's future would surely be eventful. He suddenly felt grateful that his previous self had not only been short but also unattractive; otherwise, he might have ended up in a dire situation with that fat woman eyeing him.
Comment 0 Comment Count