Comfy Mountain Life – Chapter 88

Chapter 88: Observational Skills

“Is it alright?”
I tapped the stone wall with a hammer, and a sound echoed back from the other side.

Confirming that, I kicked the center.

“Whoa!”
The wall shifted with a thud, and the man on the other side called out.

“You managed to break through so cleanly?”
“I worked hard on it yesterday.”
I had already finished the tedious task of scraping away the mortar-like substance yesterday. With my strength and tools made from the horn of a Giant Lizard, it felt like I was carving candy.

Even though there weren’t many people around, this was a job that was completely visible from the road, so I wanted to finish it quickly, and that’s why I had Retze help me.

Using the marks I made on the removed stone wall as a guide, I drove in a few wedges and began to knock the stones apart one by one. If I hit just one too hard, it would crack in an odd way, so I had to be careful and take it slow.

“Hold this for me.”
I asked Retze to hold the wooden frame for the door while I filled the gaps between it and the rectangular hole with mortar. Once it set, I would secure the door fittings to the wooden frame and stone, and it would be complete.

“You and Ash living in a house is impressive. Don’t you rent out rooms or anything?”
Most people who come to the city usually rent cramped rooms in attics or on the third floor and above. The rooms are small, primarily for sleeping, and wells are shared, with meals relying on street vendors.

We would draw water from the well and splash it on each other to wash our hands. It’s fun for a couple of times, but it gets tedious to draw water every time for baths and other needs.

“I make medicine, so I want to avoid sharing a well.”
When there are people around, I tend to want to help them out. I want to be free, but my personality makes things a bit complicated.

“If I were to buy, I’d want a three-story place with a shop, and I’d probably rent out the third floor and attic.”
“What would you do with a shop?”
I lit the stove to boil water. The back door was wide open, so I couldn’t move from the kitchen until I put the door on. Retze was sitting in the kitchen, or rather, in the hallway at the kitchen entrance.

“That depends on my wife.”
Retze replied while sipping wine.

“Are you married?”
“Nope, neither of us is.” He took a sip. “This wine is good.”

In this world, it’s much more common to get married after owning a house. People can’t afford to raise children without being able to stand on their own. Financially, it’s one thing, but when it comes to food, it’s a direct issue.

So, wealthy people tend to marry young, with men in the city marrying between thirty and forty, and women between fifteen and twenty-two. In rural areas, just being able to marry is considered fortunate, which paints a rather harsh picture.

Of course, this doesn’t apply to the serfs who have already given up hope, but marriage comes before love as a means of securing a stable life.

On the flip side, owning a house means you can take as many wives as you want. Many men prefer younger brides, and the wide range of ages for women’s marriage is due to this.

Women who have a skill can also choose from a broader selection, and if they don’t mind delaying marriage, they can buy a house and choose their husbands freely.

However, if they want children, they need to consider childbirth while they still have the stamina. With the medical system being unreliable, it’s literally a matter of life and death.

As I thought about how tough it is for women, I couldn’t help but imagine how unpleasant it would be if they adopted something like the Aztec Method of Labor Pain Relief.

I tossed salt into boiling water to cook pasta. I sautéed garlic and chili peppers in olive oil, and when the aroma intensified, I added anchovies, crushing them as I cooked.

I added sun-dried tomatoes and capers, then poured in some pasta cooking water to let it simmer a bit. I tossed in sliced olives, jarred tomato sauce, and dried oregano, mixing it all with the pasta while adjusting the salt for flavor.

“This is still delicious. What’s that tang?”
“Probably the tomatoes and capers, maybe the olives too?”
Retze and I ate without a table, holding our plates awkwardly. I was even standing.

“I don’t know what the tomatoes are, but they’re salty and spicy, just right.”

…Oh right, tomatoes weren’t in season yet. I had planned to use preserved food instead! That was a problem in itself.

“Retze, don’t eat things without knowing what they are.”
“Well, it’s made by Gene, so it should be fine.”
His casual response made me a bit happy.

“Is there anything bothering you, Gene? Besides holding up the door?”
He glanced at the door I planned to attach to the back entrance, leaning against the wall.

“Me? I guess I think the Gold Rank and their entourage seem troublesome?”
“If you don’t want to join a party, it might be a hassle if they find out you can see Spirits.”

Huh?
—How does he know I can see them?

“Chris said that anyone who doesn’t call out names can see them, even if they themselves and those around them don’t realize it.”
Retze shrugged and laughed at my surprised expression.

“Seriously…?”
“Don’t hesitate to ask Chris to call you by name. He may look and act a bit odd, but he’s a good guy.”
“I got that he seems like a good person…”

I realized that his active involvement with the nobility was just because Dean didn’t like it, and he was trying to change things.

It was simply annoying, so I was keeping my distance.

“I’ll be careful about the Gold Rank too. Well, sometimes you should rely on others. Thanks for the meal.”

After that, we finished attaching the door with his help. Since it was our first agreement, I accepted his help this time, but he told me next time for city matters, I wouldn’t need to pay him.

The door I chose was a sturdy one made of thick oak, adorned with black iron decorative hinges. I had intended to add an iron grille, but this seemed sufficient.

Still, from Retze’s perspective, I must seem like a child. There are so many things I don’t know and haven’t realized.

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