Chapter 135: Flour Grinding Extravaganza
I stepped into the house, closing the door behind me with the butlers at my back. It must be tough for them to deal with an attack during breakfast.
Just as I was about to use [Teleportation], I heard a knock on the door.
“Lord Jean.”
“Oh, are you done already?”
“Yes, everything is settled on our end. I apologize for the disturbance—but surely there could have been another way to handle this?”
“It’s not my fault for fighting in the corridor,” I replied, sensing a lecture coming on.
And right behind the butler, the guy I was just fighting lay sprawled out… Is it really okay for him to be exposed like that?
The butler’s spirit, resembling an upside-down turnip, extended the hem of its leaf-like clothing to envelop the man lying in the alley. It looked like clothing, but the parts that appeared to be fabric were actually part of the spirit itself.
Perhaps it was because the fallen man wasn’t facing me, but I couldn’t muster any sympathy for someone who came to kill my friend. I didn’t feel sorry for him at all.
As the hem returned to its original length, there was no trace of the man—or even blood—left on the cobblestones.
Ah, so the butler’s spirit is for concealment, huh?
“As a response to the general public, it’s best to avoid and hide if you notice something,” he said, wearing a face that suggested he was a reasonable person. But regular folks don’t fight in alleys, you know, butler.
“Well, Note seemed to be handling it just fine,” I said, eager to get back and make some daifuku.
“…”
The butler sighed, pressing his forehead.
“Oh, by the way, is there anyone who can negotiate with merchants and craftsmen in my place? Someone discreet, considering my situation. If Note has any leads in the same line of work, I’d appreciate it.”
And someone to take care of the livestock and do some cleaning, too.
I was hoping for someone who could take on the duties of a house steward. Someone I could offload all the troublesome tasks onto. I didn’t really know what the stewards and butlers here specifically did.
“Someone skilled in negotiations, able to keep secrets, and capable of hiding themselves in case of emergencies?”
He didn’t say the last part, did he?
After a brief discussion with Note, who said he would look into it, I finally used [Teleportation]. I headed to the watermill with Rishu, who had rushed over, to make some shiratamako.
First, I took a quick look around to ensure there were no debris that could damage the waterwheel, then opened the Water Gate to let water flow into the wheel. The water from the mountains is clean in many ways, so it should be fine, but better safe than sorry.
A typical waterwheel uses a short waterway leading from a reservoir, with boards floating on the surface to catch any large debris. It also requires maintenance for the mud that accumulates from the flowing water.
I wondered how a Japanese-style waterwheel would work. I didn’t have an image of a reservoir. It felt like the water was rushing through the waterway with great force. Was it due to the height difference and abundant water flow? Or was it the superior structure of the waterwheel?
I recalled seeing a program that mentioned adjusting the size and angle of the blades that catch the water based on the environment. I should do a bit of research on that.
After draining the glutinous rice I prepared yesterday, I added just enough water and gradually poured it into the stone mortar. Once I strained it with a cloth to remove excess moisture, I spread it out on a board to dry in the sun.
Rishu was frolicking among the flowers blooming on the grass. Spring brings forth various plants, and it’s uplifting to see them blossom.
While I was at the watermill, I ground up other types of flour and stored them in [Storage]. I could grind a single portion by hand with the mortar, but since I could use [Storage], I decided to make a large batch.
It’s nice to enjoy seasonal foods fresh, but it can be a hassle. There are so many other things I want to do, and I plan to take my time with those when I feel like it.
Oh, I should make some tofu. For lunch, I can enjoy freshly made tofu and yuba, and I have plenty of soy milk to last me a while.
I prepared a small pot and enjoyed the freshly lifted yuba, soft and melting with a hint of sweetness. I remembered that some yuba I had in Japan sometimes left a paper-like residue in my mouth, but this turned out perfectly.
When I took a bite of the tofu, the gentle aroma of soybeans spread in my mouth, and it was incredibly delicious. I garnished it with sesame, myoga, nori, and young green onions.
Among the many soft dishes, the fried edamame wrapped in yuba was crispy and delightful to eat.
I couldn’t help but think how great fresh food is as I prepared to boil some adzuki beans for making daifuku in the afternoon. I stirred the beans to prevent them from burning, turning them into sweet red bean paste, while grinding the dried shiratamako in a mortar to make it finer.
Generally, when using adzuki beans from Hokkaido, the higher quality ones turn purple when made into paste. The Tanba Dainagon variety is red, while the Chinese ones are a darker black. Even the same type of adzuki can have slightly different colors.
I produced a large batch of small daifuku, and made a few strawberry daifuku for Ash, with strawberries peeking out. I thought the slightly tart strawberries would pair nicely with the sweet red bean paste.
“Daifuku… wait, why is Whyle here?”
When I went to distribute the freshly made daifuku, I found one on Ash’s lap.
He looked serious, but it wasn’t that he disliked it; he seemed to be carefully adjusting the angle of his knees to avoid dropping it. I could see why he’d be cautious. Still, I was envious. I wanted to knead some dough.
With daifuku on his lap and Az perched on his head, it seemed peaceful, though Ash was in quite the predicament.
“He was on the third floor of our house last night, but this morning he was with Retze. Doesn’t that make you sleepy?”
“Oh, that doesn’t seem to bother him,” Ash replied.
I wondered what the difference was compared to when it was with Sara.
“It seems more like he’s being controlled rather than just attached like with Lady Sara,” he explained.
“Didn’t you name him and form a contract?”
“Whyle is just a temporary name. If there was a contract, then that state would mean… It’s possible that after the contract, the spirit could gain power for some reason or that the contract conditions loosened, causing it to act out.”
“Interesting.”
When it’s just attached, a capricious spirit can cause various phenomena, but if there’s a contract, normally the phenomena would align with the person’s wishes.
“It’s rare, but it might be that the spirit is seeking a contract with someone,” he added.
“So, the candidates are me, Retze, or Ash?”
“Yes.”
Meanwhile, the daifuku was met with mixed expressions from those who could see it.