Chapter 903: Building the Camp, Roasted Chicken

Not to mention how the Swordsman Weier felt lost and uneasy about his own life of revenge, Jier personally drove his carriage, squeezed past the others in the team, and led the entire Refugee Team, taking the lead as they headed toward the open area beyond the vast fields to the west of the village.

The neat ridges and lush, growing crops of Torito Cunzi made the vast majority of the refugees in the team burn with envy; many of them were young people who had grown up in farming households back in their hometowns, having followed their elders in agricultural work since childhood.

Ever since the situation in the Southern Province turned for the worse last winter, up until now, many of them hadn't done a single day of farm work! Their hands were itching uncontrollably, and their hearts felt empty because they hadn't been working the land.

A young man who was an experienced hand at farm work finally couldn't hold back; carrying the small pack of supplies he was responsible for, he took a few quick steps to catch up with Jier's carriage, tilted his head, and asked Jier, who was driving: "Sir Knight, look at how well the people here manage their fields! That, er, that..."

Jier slowed the carriage and handed the Jiansheng in his hands to Xueya Site, who was beside him, then leaned down and said to the young refugee: "What are you hesitating for? If you have a question, just ask!"

The young man was nearly ten years older than Jier, but at this moment, it looked like the reverse; after organizing his thoughts, he spoke: "That, I just wanted to ask, since we are settling down here, when will we start farming? It's not that I'm too impatient, it's just that spring is almost over, and we haven't done any work of that sort yet."

He added: "Priest Bata'er often says that without the busyness of farmers, crops might grow naturally, but it's hard to call them true crops. Crops must be cultivated by farmers clearing the land, planting them in concentration, and tending to them carefully. Plowing, sowing, watering, weeding, fertilizing, pest control, bird scaring, harvesting, threshing, drying, and storing in the granary. Only after this whole set is completed can the year be considered not wasted."

Then he looked aggrieved: "But it's almost summer, and everyone, including myself, hasn't done a lick of farm work."

Jier nodded and smiled slightly: "Don't be anxious, I understand your thoughts. Without solid, reliable labor, everyone who has relied on it to make a living feels uneasy, right?"

The young man, including the other young male and female refugees following nearby, all nodded in unison.

"Actually, this unease is normal and reasonable. Not working with your own hands does indeed make people feel uneasy and anxious. Because the food everyone eats isn't obtained through their own labor, that's how it is. After all, once you think, 'This isn't food I earned through labor, what will I do if I can't eat tomorrow?' that's how you feel."

"But please rest assured, there are two points I want to tell you. First, even if you haven't gone down to the fields for agricultural labor until now, there will still be food in the future. Firstly, the team has a certain amount of stored grain—yes, the glowing grain bestowed upon everyone by the hands of the great agricultural god, Priest Bata'er. Secondly, under my leadership, the team has previously broken into quite a few Bandit nests and gained a certain amount of wealth. Although this money can't be eaten directly, it can be used to buy food, and Torito Cunzi happens to have plenty of grain; we can spend money to buy food to eat."

The young man was somewhat uneasy: "Spending money to buy food to eat, this is really too..."

He wanted to say it was too unbelievable, too unimaginable; after all, for a Peasant to spend money to buy food to eat was strange in itself. But he didn't dare to actually say that to Jier the Knight; he didn't even dare to tease the Knight in private. After all, Jier the Knight had already sacrificed too much for them, which everyone in the team could see, and everyone respected Jier the Knight very much.

Jier waved his hand and continued to explain his logic: "Secondly, even if we had no stored grain and no money to buy food, it wouldn't actually matter. Because the Villagers of Torito Cunzi are willing to lend us enough grain to cover all consumption until the newly cleared fields are harvested. They might even give it to everyone for free. You can rest assured about this; it's not that the Villagers of Torito Cunzi are kind enough, but that they happen to need you now and in the future."

As for exactly how they needed them, Jier didn't elaborate, nor was there any need to elaborate much.

A Villager following near Jier's carriage spoke up: "It's better not to have them give us food for free. If we have nothing to eat, even if we have to borrow grain from them and pay it back in the future, I don't want to take their food for nothing."

This statement was agreed upon by many refugees; they were all reliable and honest people, and no one wanted to take advantage of others for free.

Jier shrugged; he felt it didn't matter, as the key behind the whole thing—the military action that brought all this about—was borne by him alone.

This feeling of being able to settle everything while carrying a heavy burden, this sense of gratification, made Jier feel very refreshed mentally.

The entire team soon arrived at the open valley grassland to the west of the village and chose a suitable spot.

Jier did not let the team camp right next to the farmland of Torito Cunzi, but kept a considerable distance, making it convenient for future land reclamation so that the new fields opened by the refugees could eventually merge with the farmland of Torito Cunzi.

"Right here! Set up camp! The last time setting up camp!"

Jier announced loudly.

Thus, the Refugee Team skillfully followed the routine of the many days they had spent before: first, everyone piled the small amount of supplies they were carrying together, and then they cooperated to move the parts for building the tents down from the various carriages in the team.

The women simply leveled the ground, moved away obstructive small Stone, pulled out the wild flowers and weeds at the chosen tent locations, and scattered the campfire ashes prepared in small Leather Bag to do the work of repelling insects.

The men used tools to dig small, deep pits at the center of each chosen tent location, then several people worked together to carry the support pillars for the tents, inserted them into the newly dug pits, and filled them with soil to fix them firmly.

Next came the smaller wooden pillars for the edges of the tents, and then the unfolded tarpaulin tents were placed over the various pillars; in this way, the overall structure of a tent roughly took shape.

Afterward, someone brought thinner Rope to pass through the stress points of the tent, tying one end firmly to the tent and driving the other end into the ground with large Iron Nail.

As the ropes pulled against each other, the surface of the tent became flat, and thus a tent was completely erected.

The refugee companions, who were already familiar with each other, followed their close partners to separate by gender, putting their respective simple bedding and personal bundles into the tents, while others continued to do other work.

On the carriages were wooden pillars and small strips of wooden boards prepared in advance; they were loosely and barely enclosed in a circle along the edge of the Yingdi, which formed a simple camp fence.

Although this fence was crude, with it, they could block some smaller animals and insects from the ground, and it was also convenient to identify where the inside of the camp was and where the outside was. And the team's armed force—the Armed Squad—also had a clear scope for patrolling and defending every night.

In the center of the camp, several campfires were soon lit. The Cook originally wanted to subconsciously use the materials at hand to make some Bean Thick Soup for everyone to drink, but soon realized that the staple food for today wasn't this, but the dozens of fat chickens that would be seen in a while!

So the Cook only made two pots of Bean Thick Soup as a supplement and waited expectantly for the fat chickens to be bought back so they could start processing them.

At this time, seeing the carriages stop and the Humans starting the work of setting up camp, the Mao Mao yawned one by one, crawled out of their respective empty boxes, and jumped off the carriage full of empty boxes.

Afterward, they looked at the sky in confusion; it was clearly only morning, not even noon yet, and they didn't know why the Humans were setting up camp directly like this. This caused all the Mao Mao to yawn incessantly, feeling drowsy.

The leading Mao Mao had sharp eyes and saw the metal Human who hadn't appeared for several days, so it immediately called most of the Mao Mao, using hands, feet, and even tails together, and ran quickly to Jier's carriage.

They surrounded Jier and shouted one after another: "Jier, Jier. Jier, Jier..."

The Mao Mao shouted: "Disappear, gone, dead, pitiful."

Jier hurriedly waved his hands: "I'm not dead, I just arrived here a step ahead to help everyone find this most suitable settlement."

The other Mao Mao shouted: "A step ahead, a step ahead."

And the leading Mao Mao leader—Yongqi Maomao, used more fluent Human Common Language to say to Jier: "Not dark, you Humans, why, set up camp."

Jier smiled slightly: "Because, with this camp, the main force won't be moving anymore."

"I don't understand, why, set up camp, not moving?" Yongqi Maomao used its own tail to prop itself up on the ground, supporting its entire body; thus, because of the support of the tail that was over a meter long, its whole body wasn't much lower than Jier's.

Jier explained to it, clarifying that the Refugee Team's initial goal was to seek shelter under him and Priest Bata'er, with the goal of assisting in the recapture of the Changmai Cunzi villagers, but in reality, it was to get a bite to eat to survive.

After the Refugee Team had organizational power as a whole, the entire team split into two; one part was still ordinary refugee civilians who needed to find a safe place to settle. The originally chosen place was Priest Bata'er's Changmai Cunzi, but Jier found this place—Torito Cunzi, which was better, so the majority of the Refugee Team naturally settled here.

The other part of the Refugee Team was divided into five squads, a total of more than one hundred people in the Armed Squad, who would later follow Jier and Priest Bata'er to rescue the Changmai Cunzi villagers.

After Jier's explanation, Yongqi Maomao understood. It jumped to the ground and shook its long tail: "Mao Mao want to fight! Fight, loot, metal, weapons."

"Good, good, good." Jier nodded in agreement.

"Mao Mao belong to Mao Mao tribe, will not settle, here. Want to follow Jier, metal, Knight Jier. Have fight, Mao Mao want to fight! Mao Mao are Warrior." Yongqi Maomao said with a serious face.

Jier nodded: "No problem, good, good, good, on the road ahead, I will call you again. My agreement with you has not been lifted."

After hearing Jier's promise, Yongqi Maomao finally felt relieved. Then the whole Mao Mao relaxed, yawning and stretching, while calling the other Mao Mao to return to the Wooden Box where they lived to catch up on sleep.

When leaving, one Mao Mao even politely bowed to Jier. This was clearly learned from Humans, which left Jier somewhat confused; he didn't understand why this Mao Mao would bow to him.

Could it be that he had helped it before?

The fat chickens were bought back.

Mr. Bafute brought a few people, along with the team Cook who claimed to be very good at making Roasted Chicken, each carrying several live chickens tied with Rope, and walked back while making a racket.

The few people were covered in chicken feathers and looked quite disheveled.

"I said we should have slaughtered and plucked them in the village before bringing them back, but our head chef said we should bring them back to slaughter, saying that only freshly slaughtered and roasted ones would be delicious? Isn't the correct way to marinate them?" Mr. Bafute looked disheveled, with many red spots on his hands from being pecked by chickens.

Hearing his complaint, the Cook who claimed to be very good at making Roasted Chicken proudly patted the feathers of the large Rooster that was still flapping in his hand: "Once plucked, wouldn't these chicken feathers be cheap for the villagers? Don't underestimate these chicken feathers; after collecting them and removing the smell, crushing them and stuffing them into clothes is very warm! Light and thin."

"You're talking about this? Hah, I thought it was something else. Back in my hometown, we always use cattail flowers from the riverside, breaking them into a fluffy state to stuff into clothes and bedding. Why would we ever need poultry feathers?" Mr. Bafute said proudly, speaking of his hometown.

"Using the fluffy stuff from cattail flowers, it naturally has a pleasant, fresh fragrance. Once it gets wet and clumps together, you just need to take it out and dry it in the sun to use it again. It's nothing like these chicken feathers, which require an extra step to remove their odor and then shredding them—it's really troublesome," he added.

The Cook felt a bit discouraged, then argued back: "It's not like we aren't short on supplies; I'm trying to find ways to secure more supplies for the group."

Jier walked over, and gradually a number of Refugees gathered around, looking greedily at the live chickens. Jier took over the conversation and said: "This is quite good. The shorter chicken feathers can be made into warm bedding for the sick and weak in the group, and the larger feathers can be added to the Arrow shafts, which can significantly increase the stability of the Arrows so they can be shot more accurately."

Hearing Jier's words, everyone nodded in agreement.

The topic then naturally turned to the dozens of live chickens: "Come on, you pick some people to start processing them, and try to make sure everyone gets a small portion of roasted chicken. With the Bread and the Bean Thick Soup over there, let's use this rich meal to celebrate everyone settling down here!"

"Ohhh!"

"I'll help!"

"I'll go boil water and pluck the feathers!"

"Don't throw away the Viscera! Borrow an oven from the village, and I'll make a chicken giblet pot pie for everyone. This is my family's unique recipe!"

"I'll go move the Bread with Mr. Bafute. The villagers are so enthusiastic; we used the remaining coins to buy a lot of Bread. By the God of Agriculture, they act like Bread here doesn't cost money!"

Jier smiled. Can you believe that Torito Cunzi hasn't even had coin transactions for decades?

Therefore, having finally obtained coins through trade, Torito Cunzi would certainly use plenty of their surplus village supplies to exchange for the coins they desperately needed.

Both sides even felt they had profited.

The live chickens were quickly slaughtered, bled, gutted, and plucked.

Afterward, several Cooks pooled their resources and actually brought out some raspberry berries they had picked along the way; combined, they had a small bag. These raspberries were washed clean in fresh water, then carefully pitted. The sweet and sour pulp was pressed into a juice, mixed with finely crushed salt blocks, and stirred with water to create a freshly made sauce.

Whether brushed onto the surface of the Roasted Chicken or smeared inside the body of the Roasted Chicken, this sauce could enhance the flavor.

The Cook in charge of roasting the chickens originally didn't want to add this extra step that hadn't existed before, but after tasting a bit of this jam-like sauce, he found the flavor was decent. By adding this, perhaps he really could make something even more delicious?

Clean, thick wooden sticks were run through the bodies of the cleaned, fat chickens. One stick even held several fat chickens, so one campfire could only roast a few chickens at a time.

"The key to roasted meat lies in the heat of the firewood!"

This Cook began to proudly proclaim his experienced methods.

"The campfire cannot be too fierce; otherwise, what you roast will either be a lump of charcoal or it will be too dry and impossible to chew." He used his own Short Sword as a fire striker, constantly adjusting the burning state of the campfire.

If the campfire was too fierce, he would remove a piece or two of firewood or slightly spread the fire pile apart.

"The campfire also cannot be too dim; setting aside whether it can even be roasted, even if it is, when you take a bite, ouch, the inside is still raw and oozing blood—that won't do."

If the campfire lacked heat, he would add a piece or two of firewood or gather the burning wood together to increase the heat.

"Only a fire that is neither too fierce nor dying, just right, combined with the proper distance between the flames and the chicken meat, can roast something good. Come on everyone, start turning the wooden sticks with the fat chickens on the rack!"

He shouted, and the other Cooks joined in, following his example to turn the sticks in an orderly fashion so that every side of the Roasted Chicken was heated evenly.

"For meat as plump as this, as long as you take care of the distance between the meat and the fire, there is absolutely no need to brush oil on the surface. As for the taste, a simple salty flavor is actually enough; the chicken is delicious, and soaking it in salt water beforehand or brushing the surface with salt water is sufficient."

The Cook held up the sauce he had just finished making: "But we have this! It has salt added to it, so we only need to brush this on the surface of the chicken and it will be perfect."

"Watch me!" After saying that, he took out a wooden spoon, scooped out some sauce, and carefully applied it evenly to each fat chicken.

The residual heat of the flames licked over the chickens coated in sauce, and immediately, the fruity aroma of the chicken emerged.

Everyone around was instantly made to swallow their saliva greedily.

"This smells too good, right?"

"I really want to pounce on it and take a bite right now; oh my, that taste must be absolutely wonderful."

"Be patient, they said everyone gets some; you can have your share in a moment."

Jier also swallowed his saliva. It wasn't that he hadn't eaten good food before, but he hadn't eaten much meat lately. The fat on the chickens being licked by the flames, the aroma of the chicken combined with the aroma of the fruit sauce—it was truly hard to endure.