That day’s lunch was an unremarkable bowl of knife-cut noodles.
The reason it was called unremarkable was because Jiang Zhuozhuo had scoured through the edible section of the Imperial Botanical Compendium with all her might, yet couldn’t find any crop that could replace chili peppers.
Knife-cut noodles without chili oil felt like something was missing to Jiang Zhuozhuo, so she had to prepare several different toppings to switch things up.
Of course, whether it was Lu or Mo Ji and his mother, this bowl of noodles was a huge surprise to them.
At first bite, the noodles felt smooth and elastic, but the more they chewed, the more fragrant they became. Before they realized it, the entire bowl had already been eaten.
Mo Ji awkwardly asked for another bowl, tentatively inquiring what the noodles were made from.
He always liked to dig deep and was now full of anticipation, looking to Jiang Zhuozhuo for answers, hoping his doubts would be cleared by their little lord.
Jiang Zhuozhuo had almost finished eating and didn’t hide it from them: “These are all made from Tree Wheat!”
Tree Wheat?
Mo Ji looked a bit confused.
It was Mo Ji’s mother who gave him the answer: “It’s Guazui Gu. Our lord recently had everyone rename it.”
After she spoke, the shock in her heart was hard to calm. If the Braised Beans were just a miracle because of that magical Brine, then turning Guazui Gu into noodles was nothing short of a miracle.
Their lord, a descendant of the Phoenix Tribe with the blood of the Mother Goddess, must have inherited some incredible legacy!
Jiang Zhuozhuo didn’t think it was that impressive—she was simply standing on the shoulders of the Great Sphere.
Having eaten her fill, she followed Mo Ji and his mother to visit his aunt.
Mo Ji’s aunt was named Fei Yi, and she had lived alone in the forest for over forty years.
She nearly died at the hands of her own mother shortly after hatching, and afterwards, her father was engulfed in grief and never recovered. Fei Yi was raised by her sister—Mo Ji’s mother—and her face bore some resemblance to Mo Ji’s mother’s, though she looked noticeably younger.
Seeing her sister arrive suddenly with an outsider, Fei Yi was somewhat surprised.
However, after years of isolation, she had unknowingly developed an aura that set her apart from the mundane world. Even when facing the clearly noble-born Jiang Zhuozhuo, she didn’t panic much.
“Sis, Mo Ji, what brings you here?” Fei Yi’s gaze landed on Jiang Zhuozhuo. “And who is this…?”
Mo Ji introduced Jiang Zhuozhuo’s identity to his aunt: “This is our lord, Her Highness the Ninth Princess of the Empire. She wants to learn more about mushroom cultivation from you.”
Fei Yi hadn’t expected Mo Ji and his mother to have contact with their lord. At first, she was surprised, then felt that her sister and nephew shouldn’t have told Jiang Zhuozhuo about her mushroom cultivation.
They had to know that growing poisonous mushrooms was forbidden without permission. If the Peacekeeping Force found out, they could be imprisoned.
She had managed to avoid trouble only because she never interacted with outsiders.
Fei Yi said, “I don’t know anything about mushroom cultivation.”
Mo Ji’s mother paled upon hearing this, realizing she might have done more harm than good by mentioning it.
Jiang Zhuozhuo had already spent a long time in the Mainland General Knowledge Class and was no longer a clueless rookie. She could tell from the sisters’ expressions what they were worried about.
Jiang Zhuozhuo reassured Fei Yi: “Since I’ve come, I definitely won’t pursue the issue of your unauthorized cultivation.”
She also told her about having already hired Mo Ji.
“If you can actually cultivate edible mushrooms, I’ll hire you under the same contract to help me grow edible fungus.”
Fei Yi hadn’t expected such an offer.
Even her beloved sister had advised her not to keep doing such foolish things when she found out about the cultivation. Others might not know, but those mushrooms had actually poisoned their mother!
They themselves had almost lost their lives.
Fei Yi still couldn’t believe it: “But… but… why would you want to hire me?”
Jiang Zhuozhuo smiled brightly: “Of course because I want to eat!”
She didn’t see it as something difficult to understand. With Woye Province’s current economic situation, dreaming of developing the entertainment industry was unrealistic.
They had to solve the fundamental problem of feeding the masses before considering anything else!
To ease Mo Ji’s aunt’s concerns, Jiang Zhuozhuo enthusiastically shared, “I’ll tell you, we always keep Color-Changing Fish in the castle. Whether your mushrooms are edible or not, we can have them try a bite first!”
Color-Changing Fish were very small fish, no larger than the tip of a finger. Their unique trait was wanting to nibble any unfamiliar food; if they couldn’t, they would become depressed and die.
They were called Color-Changing Fish because their bodies were transparent and could change color according to water quality and food characteristics.
If they ate something poisonous, their bellies would instantly flip, and they would die on the spot.
Their reaction was incredibly fast.
Nobles often used them for poison testing.
Perhaps because they died quickly, these fish reproduced rapidly. Generally, just buying a batch with both males and females ensured a steady supply.
Even if a merchant tricked them into buying all males or all females, it wasn’t a problem—when they sensed the absence of the opposite sex, they could change their sex themselves…
Clearly, if a creature kept risking death but never went extinct, it must have some remarkable traits!
Of course, this fish’s “adequacy” was based on users not being reckless or adventurous in trying new foods.
Jiang Zhuozhuo’s recent experiments with many new dishes almost wiped out the Color-Changing Fish they had brought all the way from the Royal Capital!
Fei Yi hadn’t had the chance to learn about these things, so she was naturally intrigued when she found out nobles had such ways to test if mushrooms were edible. She hesitated, saying, “I’ve only cultivated mushrooms in the forest. I don’t know if they can survive elsewhere.”
Jiang Zhuozhuo said, “No problem. You can continue living here. I’ll hire more people to come over later, and they’ll all be under your management!” Then she turned to Mo Ji, “You too. Interview a batch of people to help you. There are too many crops for you to handle alone.”
Mo Ji looked dazed.
Lu had followed along to see if there would be any mushrooms to eat today. Seeing Jiang Zhuozhuo making arrangements, he immediately asked, “Are there mushrooms here now?”
Fei Yi replied, “There aren’t many suitable mushrooms in winter.”
Lu was disappointed.
Jiang Zhuozhuo was disappointed too.
Fortunately, since the talent had already been secured, Jiang Zhuozhuo wasn’t in a hurry. She seriously discussed future development plans with Fei Yi: first, distinguish which mushrooms were best eaten fresh, and which were better dried, aiming to have plenty of mushrooms in season and dried mushrooms to rely on off-season.
Judging by her solemn expression and tone, one would think she was delivering an important speech.
After talking with Fei Yi, Jiang Zhuozhuo turned and found that Lu had already left.
She muttered, “Why did he run off so fast?” and then waved goodbye to Mo Ji and his family before flying off to explore elsewhere.
Jiang Zhuozhuo flew aimlessly for a while and suddenly noticed a bustling town below, with many people lined up.
Curious, she landed and mingled with the nearby flock of birds watching the commotion, asking, “What are they lining up for?”
The birds, engrossed in their discussion, didn’t notice a stranger among them and enthusiastically explained, “Viscount Garen is giving us winter supplies. Just line up and you can get some. Have you gotten yours? If not, hurry and get in line!”
The Empire’s nobility ranks from duke, marquis, earl, viscount, to baron, with viscount being second to last.
But in their Woye Province…
Haha, there weren’t any nobles above viscount at all.
Jiang Zhuozhuo almost felt tempted by the idea of free goods.
Then she remembered she was already a lord herself. It would be unbecoming to go scramble for relief supplies with others.
She painfully declined the free offer: “No, better leave it for those who need it more.”
The other birds were impressed by her high-mindedness. They pointed at a fat old man in line and complained, “If everyone thought like you, that’d be great. But look at that old man—he owns an entire street of houses and still has the nerve to claim Viscount Garen’s relief supplies.”
Jiang Zhuozhuo blushed at the bird’s words.
She had wanted to queue up just now!
This place wasn’t suitable to linger!
After enjoying the scene, Jiang Zhuozhuo flew back to share her experience with Mei Yin.
“Looks like this Viscount Garen is a good man!”
Jiang Zhuozhuo made that judgment based on her simple values.
Mei Yin said, “Not necessarily. Maybe he’s about to receive the Blessing of the Mother Goddess.”
This was unfamiliar knowledge to Jiang Zhuozhuo, who looked at Mei Yin with curiosity.
Mei Yin had originally planned to dedicate a whole class to this topic.
But since Jiang Zhuozhuo had encountered it already, she took the opportunity to explain—
It was said that as long as the Bird Tribe refrained from atrocious deeds, they could receive the Blessing of the Mother Goddess. Each blessing could extend their lifespan by a hundred or eighty years.
Unfortunately, this was theoretical. In reality, many people might work diligently their whole lives and still fail to reach the threshold for the Blessing.
The ancients had studied why this was and came to a few conclusions: one, you had to live safely to one hundred years old; two, during that time you had to bear offspring to contribute to the tribe’s continuation; three, what you gained during that time couldn’t be used solely for yourself—you had to help others with what you had.
Only a few people could break these three rules.
Though these points seemed simple, the first one alone filtered out most commoners.
Because commoners lived in extreme poverty, they had to accept work beyond their physical limits, sacrificing their health to earn meager wages to support themselves and their families.
Just surviving was already difficult; where would they find the strength to help others? Meanwhile, nobles treasured these rules.
If an elderly, stern-faced noble suddenly gave relief to many commoners, it wasn’t out of a sudden conscience but because he was about to “turn one hundred.”
Last-minute repentance was shameful but effective!
At least many nobles who usually looked down on commoners hoped to earn the Blessing of the Mother Goddess this way.
Jiang Zhuozhuo listened solemnly.
Mei Yin asked, “Your Highness, was there anything you didn’t understand?”
Jiang Zhuozhuo said, “No, I understood everything!”
She just felt… that legendary Mother Goddess was already a deity, so why was she still so worried about the Bird Population Census?
They even listed hatching chicks as a key performance indicator for a bird’s hundred-year life!
No eggs hatched? Then die!
Jiang Zhuozhuo:
So, once they had enough people, would they have to conduct a Bird Population Census?
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