CH-031

Savoie pastoral district, Northern Lands.

Each year, from mid-April to early June was the busiest time for farmwork.

The crops planted last winter or in early spring were already starting to be harvested one by one.

After harvesting, some vegetables and fruits could continue growing — like tomatoes and peppers, which needed regular picking and pruning and would keep producing. But there were others, like cabbage and black rye, that by the end of May or the beginning of June could be fully harvested. The land would then need to be replanted for the second round of crops, so harvesting and planting would proceed simultaneously.

After the cabbage harvest on Elder Yager's fields, the original plan had been to replant with the relatively cheap pea seeds from previous years — plentiful and filling. But this year Shu Li had said he wanted to plant soybeans and peanuts, and without a word of objection, that's what they planted. And the remaining untilled land was similarly replanted — following Shu Li's idea — with a large batch of potatoes.

It was only when Shu Li wandered around other people's fields that he noticed every food crop planted in their church's fields was the kind that was in-season and didn't keep well. Everyone else, from spring onward, was already planning their winter stores and next year's planting schedule.

Though Shu Li had also given some thought to the matter of surviving winter, his thinking was always focused on how to make the food more varied and interesting. And so, compared to other households' pragmatism, Shu Li felt his own life was rather insubstantial — entirely sustained by Elder Yager's family spoiling him, living rather like someone who had never known the hardships of everyday life.

Even though Shu Li later felt a twinge of guilt, worried his crop plans had changed the Yager family's preparations for the coming winter, he was genuinely happy to have finally escaped the daily life of three meals of hard black rye bread.

He had recently stopped eating rye bread altogether and begun eating all kinds of vegetable and fruit salads.

The small patch of land behind the church, once summer arrived, produced crops that grew better day by day and faster and faster. The tomatoes, for instance, had only been the size of a thumbnail a few days before, and within a few days had inflated like something had blown air into them — quickly growing to the size of a small child's fist. Pluck one today, and by the next day a new fruit would have set, while even the stems left on the ground would sprout vigorously in the summer warmth.

Tomatoes could be eaten raw, eaten just as they were, or eaten with a sprinkle of sugar. Tomatoes could also be stir-fried with eggs, made into tomato soup, made into tomato paste, or dried into sun-dried tomatoes.

Shu Li felt, once the tomatoes ripened, as though his life in this world had reached its fullest satisfaction all at once.

By contrast, Elder Yager and the others felt no particular joy about the tomatoes. Their feelings were much the same as they'd had about the potatoes.

Both potatoes and tomatoes were exotic foods. The former, being ugly-looking and brought from uncivilized regions, was a product associated with the lower classes; the nobility had once used such foods as livestock fodder. Though filling, Elder Yager would still have preferred his priest eat higher-quality ingredients. The latter's overly vivid color, combined with a rumor that once circulated about nobles dying of poisoning after consuming them, meant most people treated the colorful tomatoes as ornamental plants. Elder Yager's family had thus naturally assumed that the priest simply enjoyed growing attractive plants.

And so none of them had imagined that Shu Li would not only eat them but enjoy them greatly.

A minor incident had occurred on account of all this.

The first time Shu Li had popped a tomato into his mouth, Elder Yager had caught sight of it and nearly fainted on the spot. He shouted in alarm and immediately directed Raymond and Herens to pin Shu Li down, intending to clear the tomato from his throat and mouth. Nearby, Finnian had even rolled up his sleeves, saying he was going to punch Shu Li in the stomach to help induce vomiting.

In the chaos of the moment, Shu Li hadn't quite registered what was happening, and only afterward, looking back, did he feel — Finnian was just a child, you know, and sometimes he had the personality of an absolute angel, but other times he was nothing short of a thoroughgoing little devil.

Fortunately, Shu Li's presence had more authority than theirs, and they were accustomed to following his direction anyway. As they came at him in full force, Shu Li stopped them in their tracks: "Everyone maintain a social distance of one and a half meters from me — nobody move!"

The others froze mid-stride like they were playing a game of statues.

After a moment, hearing the explanation, Shu Li learned they had believed tomatoes were poisonous, fearing he would die of poisoning after eating them.

This was consistent with Western European historical development. Foods now considered delicious and simple staples — like potatoes, tomatoes, and sweet potatoes — had each undergone long periods of testing and rejection in their own histories. "Tomatoes are not poisonous," Shu Li explained. "Though they're not as flavorful as modern cultivars, they're still better than nothing."

The others didn't understand what "modern cultivars" meant, but Shu Li explained why people came to believe tomatoes were toxic.

Herens said: "So it was because the acidity of tomatoes dissolved the lead from the nobility's high-quality pewter tableware, causing them to be poisoned? It was actually the combination of acidic food and lead-containing vessels that was the problem."

"Yes," Shu Li replied, spreading his hands. "You see—"

Elder Yager heard this and believed, but deep down he hadn't fully accepted it.

Finnian raised his hand: "But lemons and oranges should be more acidic than tomatoes — so why was it specifically tomatoes that got singled out as poisonous? Wouldn't that be strange? Don't nobles also use pewter tableware for fruit?"

Shu Li was very pleased that he asked good questions and always gave feedback along the lines of "that's a good question."

"And come to think of it — some apples are also quite acidic, so why aren't apples considered poisonous when placed in the tableware?"

Herens followed along in thought: "Is it because of the cooking method? Tomatoes are mostly stewed and cooked, which means extended contact with large amounts of the vessel, and they end up on the main serving plate — whereas apples and lemons tend to be consumed cold?"

"Yes — so the lead leaching is actually also related to high-temperature heating," Shu Li said. "Strictly speaking, pewter tableware itself is quite dangerous and not very suited as a vessel for food that goes into the mouth."

Elder Yager and Raymond, listening to Shu Li go on about these things, found it all distant and unreal.

Finnian raised his hand again: "I have one more question — Father Alistair knows these things because he's come from a big city and has been exposed to them." He deliberately drew out his tone. "But Mr. Herens said he grew up in the countryside, living as a hunter — so why does he know so much about the noble's dining habits?"

Herens's thumb and forefinger rubbed together instinctively, his throat shifted slightly, and he explained: "When hunting across different regions... one hears idle talk?"

"What kind of hunter would care so much about the meals on the lord's table?" Finnian tilted his head, eyes sharp as a fox that has spotted its prey. "I wouldn't know anything about cold consumption."

Shu Li noticed Herens's tensed shoulders and interjected at just the right moment: "Finnian, didn't you yourself accurately describe the style of a ceremonial robe once? Does that mean you've lived in a cathedral?"

"That's different!" Finnian argued with conviction. "I read about it in a book."

"Exactly," Shu Li said. "Knowledge doesn't necessarily require personal experience — understanding something doesn't require having taken an interest in it. It might simply be something noticed and remembered without even trying."

It was now Finnian's turn to be stuck in the conversation. But his mind moved fast: "He could have just said no, couldn't he?"

"Even if he did, you wouldn't necessarily let it go. Whether or not he said no — does it really matter?"

Hearing this, Finnian realized Shu Li was protecting Herens, and he started throwing a tantrum: "You don't like me anymore — you're so mean to me!" Before Shu Li could react, Finnian ran over and hugged his arm, then broke the rule: "I'm unhappy now."

"All right, all right." Shu Li casually appeased him with a couple of words. "Would you like to eat a tomato?"

Finnian looked at the tomato, took it without hesitation, ate it, and said to himself between bites: "I'm really far too easy to win over."

And so Elder Yager and Raymond's attention shifted instantly from the debate between Herens and Finnian to the question of "Finnian being too childish" and "can you really eat a tomato?" When Shu Li handed one over to them, they hesitated for a moment before accepting it — but didn't dare eat it right away. After all, they'd been thoroughly influenced by old rumors and couldn't change their thinking all at once.

With time, though, once Shu Li had guided them in how to eat tomatoes, they grew accustomed to it as well.

That was the little incident involving tomatoes.

But another thing worth mentioning was that Raymond had once brought back the wrong seeds from Carson City.

That turned out to be another unexpected delight.

Earlier, when Shu Li had been looking over the fields, he had noticed some sprouts coming up that looked a little different. But lacking agricultural knowledge, he hadn't paid much attention.

In any case, once the seeds grew up, he'd know what they were.

Then, as late spring passed and another round of rain had come and gone, the seeds produced vines and bloomed — with both male and female flowers — attracting all kinds of small insects.

A quick aside: Shu Li's alyssum turned out to serve a great purpose here. He had originally wanted to use its insect-repelling properties to achieve biological pest control — something he'd read about in a book from the twentieth century, with its nature-based ecological farming model. Farmers would plant a row of alyssum every certain number of garden rows to prevent aphids and lacewings.

Planting alyssum had a remarkable effect. While not entirely eliminating pests, the improvement was far superior to the crop fields, especially during summer — the worst season for pests — saving Shu Li considerable worry and eliminating the need to think about pesticides. Alyssum also attracted beneficial insects for pollination, like bees.

So there was no need for Shu Li to think about pollination issues.

And so, one morning after pollination season, round green melons appeared beneath the trailing leaves — slightly larger than glass marbles. Shu Li thought it might be a cucumber. Of course, he didn't know whether cucumbers had separate male and female flowers.

He thought it could be some kind of gourd: a small winter melon? A courgette? A loofah? He had many ideas, all centered around how to roast or cook it — and then, a week later, the little gourd grew bigger and rounder, the curved markings more and more pronounced.

Shu Li suddenly realized: here in a strange world, in his very first summer, he was apparently going to be eating a great big watermelon!

He felt that his previous life must have involved saving the world at some point.

Absolutely delighted.

To ensure the melons would be sweet, where a vine had originally produced three fruits, Shu Li had painfully removed one. Following the natural rhythm, the watermelons would be ripe by mid-July.

By then: two for Elder Yager's family, one for Herens's family, one for Finnian's family, and Shu Li himself would have two in reserve.

The harvest season was a joy, but the busyness that came with it was also real. From the moment the fruits were picked, Shu Li would need to start slicing and drying them, or pickling them into kimchi.

In spring, he had thought he'd attract many villagers coming to him for holy water — which was really just salt water for germinating seeds, to help them sprout — but they showed no interest. So he reworked old salt into fresh salt himself, and generously set about his own pickling work.

In previous years, Elder Yager's family would either sell their harvested cabbage, exchanging it for money, or leave it unstripped of its outer leaves and store it in the cellar to last through to winter. Shu Li honestly felt that right now he didn't need to earn money, had enough to eat, and was living a full and satisfying life.

In June, Shu Li took one-tenth of the cabbage, cut it into shreds and made sauerkraut and kimchi, and arranged with Herens that they'd have a winter barbecue together at Elder Yager's home. He intended to also plan a hot pot feast for the future. Even with money, such things couldn't be eaten out.

The ones looking forward to it most were probably Weya and Xia — the two of them spent all day counting how many delicious things they'd eat that winter, listing a hundred different good things every day. Still in the middle of summer, they were already waiting for winter to arrive.

Just as Shu Li was also thinking that the days were simply a matter of waiting for winter to come, an unexpected letter was delivered to the Savoie chapel. It was a formal letter from the Carson City ecclesiastical district's church, the envelope bearing a gilded emblem. The content was brief but impossible to ignore — it concerned the matter of a wedding gift for the male lead of the novel: Leslie's father's wedding. "Please send gifts to the Carson City cathedral before July 1st. Gift value must be no less than 500 silver coins."

Shu Li stood in the sunlight holding the letter and didn't move for a long moment.

According to what he knew, Savoie pastoral district's cash assets currently amounted to exactly 19 silver coins.