[Alright… time to get to work!]
She steadied herself and prepared to ask the coachman for some useless scraps of cloth to replace the tattered strip around her neck first.
Enduring the waves of throbbing pain from her neck, she walked toward the coachman, who was unhitching the harness, and kept her voice as steady as possible.
“Sir, on your carriage… do you have any clean, unused cloth? This one on my neck… it’s really no longer usable.”
The Coachman stopped his work, his gaze sweeping over her bleeding neck. He didn’t ask much, only grumbling, “So many requests,” before bending down to rummage through a junk box at the bottom of the carriage.
A moment later, he threw over a few strips of coarse linen that looked clean enough. “I was going to use them to wipe the carriage. Take them.”
“Thank you, sir,” Aurelia said as she took the strips. She walked to the lee side of the carriage and carefully removed the original temporary bandage, which was soaked with blood and dust.
The cold morning air stung the exposed wound, making her gasp.
Scooping some fresh water the coachman had just fetched into a wooden bowl, Aurelia began to treat the sword wound on her neck.
The water was freezing, and the wound stung. Her movements trembled slightly from the pain and weakness. However, she gritted her teeth and insisted on cleaning away the blood and filth, then rewrapped the wound with the best piece of cloth she had on hand.
Although it was still primitive, her neck felt much fresher after the change to a new bandage. It was no longer sticky and uncomfortable, and the pain seemed to ease slightly.
Once finished with the bandaging, she didn’t dare delay and immediately began preparations for starting a fire to cook.
The morning dew was heavy, and most of the dead branches at the edge of the woods were damp. She bent over, carefully searching under bushes and behind the backs of fallen tree trunks for relatively dry twigs and dead leaves to use as tinder.
These were the survival skills of the original owner of this body, not hers. After all, a modern homebody youth knowing these things… no matter how you looked at it, it wasn’t right.
Every time she bent and stood back up, it pulled at the wound on her neck, but she forced herself to ignore the discomfort and focus on gathering the necessary supplies.
Her luck with finding ingredients wasn’t great. She only found a bit of wild onion with a faint spicy smell in the damp soil by the creek. She didn’t dare pick any brightly colored or unfamiliar mushrooms.
[Otherwise, if I poison this coachman to death… then my reputation as a villain will be set in stone. I’m not some bad person; it’s all because of that Red-Haired Guy slandering me, insisting I’m some kind of Disaster! That Red-Haired Guy! I’ll hack you to death sooner or later!]
Thinking this, she yanked the wild onion out by its roots, bringing along a clump of damp soil.
Returning to the chosen fire spot, she recalled fire-starting techniques and struck the flint repeatedly. Several times, sparks flew but failed to ignite the tinder; instead, the thick smoke made her cough repeatedly.
The Coachman stood aside, watching coldly with no intention of helping, looking like he was enjoying the show.
Aurelia did not lose heart. She adjusted the fluffiness of the dead leaves and continued trying, slowly wearing down the coachman’s patience.
Finally, just as he was becoming restless, a tiny, flickering flame flickered to life. She nurtured it carefully, slowly adding small twigs until the fire burned steadily. The coachman finally sighed in relief.
She broke the rock-hard wheat cakes into small pieces and used the borrowed old knife to laboriously mince the salt-cured meat, putting them into a small iron pot set over the fire along with the washed and chopped wild onions, adding water to simmer slowly.
As the bubbling sound rose, the aroma of a simple but real hot meal—a mix of wheat, salted meat, and the fresh scent of plants—slowly drifted out.
“Hmm… just a bit more…”
Aurelia felt the pockets of her tattered dress and pulled out a seasoning bottle that was half-full.
That’s right, seasoning.
As a qualified logistical little cook, she had spent almost half her time since the transmigration studying culinary arts, ingredients, and seasonings.
This half-bottle of seasoning was the result of her modern knowledge combined with her efforts over the past month.
She pulled out the cork and leaned in to sniff it. That slightly pungent but very familiar faint peppery scent refreshed her spirit, and saliva involuntarily began to secrete in her mouth.
She didn’t dare use much. In a situation where ingredients were extremely scarce, any extra flavor was precious.
She gently shook the small bottle, carefully sprinkling a tiny pinch into the bubbling pot. The powdered seasoning instantly dissolved into the tumbling gruel.
“Ho?” The Coachman, who had been watching coldly, twitched his nose. His cloudy eyes flashed with a hint of surprise.
Having driven carriages for many years and lived in the elements, his nose had long since been dulled by the smell of coarse foods. But this sudden, complex aroma with hints of forest and spices caught his attention.
Aurelia pretended not to see his twitching nose, focusing instead on stirring the gruel in the pot with a wooden spoon to ensure the tiny pinch of powder was completely incorporated.
The aroma became richer and more layered. The original simple saltiness and wheat scent were skillfully enveloped, with a faint, appetizing hint of something like dried berries’ acidity and herbal freshness.
“What did you add?” he finally asked. His voice was still flat, but the inquisitiveness in it was much more obvious.
In response, Aurelia gave a small, apologetic laugh. “This… is my secret recipe. Sorry, sir, but it’s not for outsiders.”
“A secret recipe?” The coachman’s gaze lingered on her face.
This girl didn’t look old and was in a pathetic state, but her current performance… was definitely not that of a useless, idle wanderer.
He had driven carriages for many years and seen all kinds of people. Some craftsmen truly held their ancestral or self-discovered recipes in high regard, even seeing them as more important than their own lives.
With this skill, it explained why she had dared to guarantee that her cooking would be delicious. His previous estimation of her… had been a bit low.
[And what did she say earlier? A cook? A chef? Hmm… then it’s not strange. Being able to turn this junk into a delicacy… that’s a unique skill in itself.]
Estimating the cooking time was about right, she dished out a small half-bowl and handed it over, this time with a cautious smile on her face. “Sir, try it again. The flavor should be right this time.”
The Coachman took the bowl. Not caring about the heat, he first took a deep breath of the complex aroma before scooping up a spoonful and slowly bringing it to his mouth.
This time, his reaction was more pronounced. His eyes narrowed slightly as he carefully savored the taste.
The coarse wheat cake granules had become surprisingly acceptable in texture after long simmering and the neutralizing effect of the spices. Combined with the meat and onions, this was definitely the most flavorful meal he had eaten in the wilderness during all his years of driving solo.
“Mhm…” He picked up his large bowl again, scooped a full bowl directly from the pot, and began to eat in large gulps. The slurping sound was much louder than before.
Clearly, he was very satisfied with Aurelia’s skill, which was the best possible affirmation.
The weight in Aurelia’s heart finally lifted, and she even felt a tiny surge of pride. She quickly dished out a small bowl of thinner gruel to feed the boy in the carriage.
Perhaps it was because this enticingly fragrant food truly was different, or perhaps the boy’s body had recovered another step.
In his coma, he unconsciously swallowed the liquid food. Though slow, he didn’t spill too much. After feeding the boy and looking at his still-pale face that seemed to have gained a bit of vitality, Aurelia’s mood brightened slightly.
[As expected of me, hmph… with these skills, turning trash into treasure and making the most fragrant meal out of the worst ingredients, I wouldn’t be out of place as a hotel chef!]
***
By the time she returned to the fire, the coachman had finished eating and was using a wooden spoon to scrape the last bit of thick soup from the bottom of the pot, his expression almost wanting more.
Seeing Aurelia approach, he put down the spoon, pulled a food pouch from his shirt, and pointed at the bowl of soup-gruel that had been set aside earlier.
The Coachman pulled out two thick wheat cakes from his food bag that were noticeably thicker and had a faint scent of wheat.
Additionally, he took out a small piece of smoked meat wrapped in oil paper that looked shiny and fatty, clearly of better quality than the salt-cured meat used for the gruel.
He gestured with the wheat cakes and smoked meat toward Aurelia. “Eat up, then go back and rest. You look exhausted, that neck wound isn’t light, and you’ve been busy all morning. I’ll wake you early before the next mealtime.”
“Thank you, sir!” Aurelia’s thanks this time carried more genuine gratitude.
She took the food but didn’t wolf it down immediately. Instead, she carefully broke the precious piece of smoked meat in half, wrapping one half back into the oil paper and tucking it into her shirt.
This was for the next meal or an emergency. Then, she picked up a wheat cake and ate it in small bites along with the still-warm bowl of gruel.
The Coachman didn’t look at her again, busying himself with tidying the bowls, checking the horses, and making preparations for departure.
But his silence was no longer that indifferent scrutiny from the beginning; it was a feeling like… “Yeah, you did a good job, kid. I’ve accepted you for now.”
What made the coachman acknowledge her even more was the fact that Aurelia had completed all this work despite being seriously injured. This perseverance was one of the reasons he accepted her.
Inside the carriage, the boy was still unconscious, but his breathing was steady, and his face had a bit more color than before.
Aurelia checked the bandage on him; no new blood had seeped out. She touched his forehead; the temperature seemed normal with no signs of fever. This put her mind at ease.
[Alright, now it’s my turn to rest, phew…]
She leaned against the burlap sacks, finding a position that wasn’t too uncomfortable. The goods beneath her rocked slightly with the jolting of the carriage, and the sunlight streaming through the window carried a gentle warmth.
With food in her stomach, a clean bandage on her wound, temporary safety, and even initial recognition from the person she was traveling with… though the wound still hurt, all of it… was worth it!
[Once we get to Twilight City… I’ll find a job where I can stay, settle this little brother, then make my next move…]
She looked down at her tattered clothes again and sighed softly. [This… also needs to be sorted out.]
Her eyelids grew heavier, and the swaying of the carriage felt like a cradle. Before her consciousness sank into darkness, her last thought was… [At least the first step into the future… was taken steadily…]