Chapter 31 of 100

Chapter 31

15 min read3,737 words

As they entered the town, the soldiers guarding the wooden watchtower did not spare more than two seconds to glance at the man and his dog. The constable responsible for spot-checking travelers to prevent wanted criminals or bandits from entering the town didn't even bother to acknowledge Zhao Mai. Perhaps in their eyes, a young man with a growling stomach and a puppy hardly posed any threat.

There was no time to carefully observe the stone-paved ground of the town, nor the energy to assess the strength and living standards of its residents. Zhao Mai's eyes were constantly scanning various signs. This was not Earth, where education was not widespread, and illiteracy was the norm. So even if you couldn't recognize any characters, you could still live a normal life here.

The pictures on the signs explained a lot, and one sign featuring a fireplace, a roasted chicken, and a beer completely caught Zhao Mai's attention. "This is the place. Finally, a place to eat." The reserve food agreed with Zhao Mai's words, wagging its tail and following its owner closely, head held high as they walked in.

Two serving girls stood under the sign of the "Fireplace" tavern. When Zhao Mai strode in, the older girl covered her face with her hand. Zhao Mai politely asked them to move aside a bit, not wanting to bump into them as he entered. The younger serving girl giggled, understanding Zhao Mai's body language but finding his clumsy manner unrefined.

They stood at the door to "bump into" incoming and outgoing guests, and in an instant, negotiate a deal involving a bed. The older serving girl had sharper eyes; she noticed Zhao Mai's black pupils and the black hair peeking out from under his leather cap. These were rare physical features, and rarity meant risk. Covering her face was a way to show disinterest, hoping the guest would back off.

All these gestures were wasted on Zhao Mai, who didn't understand them at all. Even if he guessed the women's professions, he was clueless about their tactics—after all, he was a new driver. Inside the tavern, at the end of the noisy hall, a fat man with a large belly and broad waist was wiping the counter. His thick hands moved quickly with a large cloth, but his small, sharp eyes attentively observed everything.

The tavern was a melting pot of all sorts of things, including trouble. Those who wanted to hide their identities sat in the shadows of the corners, those who wanted to gather information liked to warm themselves by the crowded fireplace, those who wanted to get drunk occupied the tables in the middle of the hall, and the lecherous guests who wanted to grope the serving girls' bottoms controlled the passages from the kitchen to the front hall, where their "targets" had to pass.

Zhao Mai picked up the reserve food and walked straight through the hall, sitting in the most conspicuous spot, closest to the fat owner. He wanted to order some food but suddenly realized he didn't know the local dish names. After a moment's thought, he decided to order the safest options: "Meat, bread, eggs, and ale!"

"Which family's foolish child is this?" The attention that had been on him gradually dissipated. They found nothing of interest in Zhao Mai, neither opportunities for profit nor anything else.

His equipment didn't help his image. The old armor, not tailored to fit him, was a bit small and tight. The survival work in the forest and by the lakeside had added many decorations to the armor, including dirt, smoke, and more wear and tear. Only the short sword and axe were somewhat thin, and even with the shield, they didn't meet the basic requirements of a fighter.

The heavy burlap sack behind Zhao Mai could have drawn attention, but his novice appearance helped a lot, and everyone lost interest in investigating.

The fat owner had the same thought. After confirming that this new customer was not capable of causing trouble, his only concern was whether he could pay for the meal.

His voice had a strange tremor, and his thick lips added a "plop plop" sound. Zhao Mai's poor hearing was of little use. However, what kind of questions could there be in a tavern? They were usually about renting a room, paying, or needing special services.

Most of the time, life is like a game, or rather, games often distill the most core and common situations in life. Besides brawls, there was nothing in a tavern that couldn't be solved with money—add a fist if necessary. Zhao Mai guessed the tavern owner wanted money, so he opened the dwarf's money bag to show him. The original gold coins were already taken out and placed elsewhere, leaving only three for show. A meal didn't cost much; the simple food Zhao Mai requested only required a few silver coins.

Money made things easier. Soon, a large piece of carrot and chicken stew with potato sauce, two boiled eggs, a thick brown bread, and a half-pint of ale were brought to the table.

Among all the food, the ale was the most interesting to Zhao Mai. This beer-like drink was made from fermented roasted barley, said to be sweet and rich in texture. Ale from different regions could fully reflect the local water and soil characteristics. Before this meal, all Zhao Mai knew about ale was from books.

He had been drinking cold boiled water on his journey, but no matter how much he boiled it, the lake water always had a strange taste that didn't satisfy him. Ale, due to its easy preparation, low price, long shelf life, and nutritional value, had always been a substitute for water.

Taking a big gulp, Zhao Mai felt that what he had read before was somewhat exaggerated. If the beer he had tasted before was like fresh orange juice, then this ale was like orange juice with pulp—there were many chewy bits. It was sweeter than the boiled lake water, but just barely palatable. As for the aroma, Zhao Mai didn't really taste it.

It didn't matter; he would treat it as water to help with the meal. The food in front of him was passable in terms of color, aroma, and taste. Zhao Mai could clearly see the message in the food: "Eat until you're full."

Hunger was the best seasoning, and any meal could be eaten. Zhao Mai scooped the food into his mouth and used the ale to help swallow, finishing the meal in a short time. The reserve food got the eggs and chicken, and it enjoyed them thoroughly.

The entire meal was bland, with a strong aroma but no saltiness. Zhao Mai thought for a moment and ordered a large portion of roasted meat. He wanted to see the local food preferences and find a market for his salt.

Sure enough, even the roasted chicken was bland, or rather, it only had the aroma of fat without the enhancement of good salt. Zhao Mai wouldn't sprinkle salt on the food in public, and he temporarily lost his appetite. With the help of body language and broken common language, he rented a room as a temporary lodging and hoped to hire a "local expert" as a temporary servant.

Rubbing the two gold coins in his hand, the fat owner thought for a moment and quickly listed the available candidates in his mind. Ferdinand Green, nicknamed "Mad Rat," might be just right.

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