Chapter 7

Lundin was anxious. He went up and grabbed the young assistant's arm, begging, "Don't, don't do this, Mr. Lingert, just do me this favor! I will definitely thank you very much! Please believe me!"

Lin Weilun let the fat chef drag him like that, blinking his eyes and looking at the old man innocently.

Ferry, however, seemed to have no intention of tangling with them. He picked up his suitcase and waved, "You can handle it yourself. I'm leaving now. Alma is making mince pies tonight, and they'll be cold if I get home too late."

Lin Weilun's expression slowly changed until the old man's figure completely disappeared outside the door.

"If that's what you want," he lowered his eyes and looked down at the fat chef who was holding him like a young wife, "then five pounds, thank you."

"Five pounds?!" Lundin's voice was out of tune with shock. "You're so shameless! Five pounds is enough for me to buy so many chickens!"

Lin Weilun smiled, "Sir, I have no obligation."

With just one word, the fat chef lost his temper instantly.

He immediately swung the young man's sleeve aside, his mind racing, "Aren't you afraid I'll tell Mr. Ferry? Will he tolerate you blackmailing clients privately?"

"That's your business," Lin Weilun shrugged nonchalantly. "But it's not my job to help you choose the chicken, is it? Besides... did you really only realize there was something wrong with the chicken a week ago?"

"Don't forget," he said, his smile somewhat dangerously, "I'm a veterinarian. It's my basic job to tell when there's something wrong with the feed."

This little devil!

Lundin was shocked. He was so skilled at threatening people! How could Old Ferry hire such a black-hearted guy? He had absolutely no good intentions at all!

What’s even more infuriating is that £5 is not a very expensive amount of money for the fat chef, nor is it a number worth holding a grudge against.

He was fully capable of paying, but if he did, it would feel like a cockroach had crawled over his freshly made herb-fried chicken.

However, Lin Weilun added fuel to the fire without haste, "Since you have no intention, please allow me to say 'goodbye'. I still have things to do in the clinic."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and left.

This time, Lundin was truly frightened. He didn't bother to think about it and quickly grabbed the young man's arm, saying with a sad face, "5 pounds is 5 pounds! I'll give it to you, isn't that okay? But you have to make sure the chicken is absolutely healthy!"

If the Count ever found out that the chicken he ate was defective, Lundin would definitely be thrown into jail! Absolutely!

But if the chickens were purchased by this young veterinarian, then the responsibility is not his!

£5 for a risk transfer, very suitable.

The young assistant stopped walking and turned around with a smile that said, "I can't help you." "God bless your generosity."

The fat chef gritted his teeth and took out 5 pounds from his wallet to pay.

But before leaving, the young man suddenly stopped, turned around and looked at him deeply.

"Sir," Lundin heard him say, "instead of worrying about these five pounds, you should think about what to do when this news gets out. You should at least take the initiative, right?"

Lundin was almost annoyed by him. "Then I will put the blame on you! I am the victim. If something happens to my tavern..."

Suddenly, he thought of something and closed his mouth in surprise.

Yes, this matter has nothing to do with Ferry Clinic. The initiative...cannot be concealed anyway, he should indeed take the initiative.

There were a lot of people at the market in the evening. Lin Weilun had a clear goal and started to touch the poultry stalls directly.

The boss's originally enthusiastic smile gradually froze. Was this the same pervert from last time?

It took a while for Lin Weilun to bring back the healthy chicken.

The fat chef didn't even say a word of courtesy. He gave him a fierce look and immediately ran to the kitchen.

Lin Weilun didn't care. Having earned some extra money, he returned home happily.

When he went to the market just now, he didn't forget to buy some things for his small rental house.

Thanks to the generosity of Mr. Lundin, not only is the kitchen now full, but he himself is finally freed from the dilemma of uncomfortable leather shoes and having only two sets of clothes.

But Lin Weilun didn't engage in revenge spending. On the corner of the market street, there's a second-hand clothing store. All the clothes there were donated or bought at low prices, perhaps from the wealthy who went bankrupt, or perhaps from the young who died young. Every coat, suit, and pair of shoes on display carries a dusty and distressed air.

But the price is low enough.

There are even some decent private tailoring and big-name production, but he still can't afford them now.

Lin Weilun found a pair of soft leather shoes, a pair of rain boots, two sets of thin summer shirts, a pair of suit pants without holes, plus a dozen shorts and a dozen thin socks here.

Then he sold the pair of leather shoes that were about to cut his feet, the shirt with worn cuffs, and the suit pants with holes on the inner thighs to the second-hand store owner.

The total expenditure for one purchase and one sale was 1 pound 13 shillings.

The cabinet in the cabin was finally put to use, instead of being empty and ready to be used as a coffin.

Lin Weilun was very satisfied.

To reward himself, he decided to have something nice to eat in the evening.

Under the floor near the window of the rental house, there was a small cold storage cellar, bumpy and only about three square meters. It looked like it was secretly dug out by the servants who once lived there.

Now, this is all Lin Weilun’s “property”.

He took out a few eggs and almonds from the cellar, mixed them with flour and melted hot butter in the right proportions, then added the goat's milk he had just bought and a little sugar, and slowly baked them on a pan.

The low temperature bakes the surface of the biscuits into a caramel color, and the sweetness of the cheese and the rich aroma of butter complement each other, like huge milky bubbles rising up, and then like layers of milky waves, mixed with the unique aroma of nuts that is hard to ignore.

It would be better if it had sesame seeds, but it’s okay without them.

Lin Weilun always has a high tolerance for delicious food.

As for the side dish, he chose the cheap and delicious sea bass.

There was no way. The markets he could reach on foot had been completely occupied by imported meat, and the livestock that came from across the ocean seemed to have a lower slaughter threshold.

Not only was the meat quality very poor, but even basic health was not guaranteed. When Lin Weilun touched the meat from the stall, the text gave a variety of disease descriptions.

Including but not limited to [a piece of beef from a cow with pubic/hair abscess], [a piece of meat from a lamb with dysentery], [a piece of pig hind leg with fungal infection], etc.

Who can eat it?

On the contrary, the creatures in the sea are more adorable, but this time the cooking method is much simpler. They are stir-fried with fresh and crispy parsley, and the seasoning is only salt, fried green onions and leftover dry white wine, which retains the sweetness and tenderness of the sea bass to the greatest extent.

Add the crispness of parsley and the whole dish looks like it was just served from the sea.

The summer evening breeze blew gently through every household. Old Ferry stood at the window with a plate in his hand and took a big sip.

"What delicious food did this kid eat tonight?"

"I smell the sea and nuts." Mrs. Alma closed her eyes in ecstasy and took a bite of the mince pie on the plate in her hand. The pie, which she had always loved, seemed much greasy in the face of the scent brought by the breeze.

Let’s buy some nuts tomorrow. How about chestnuts?

Alma met the eyes of a group of boys outside the window who were desperately sniffing the air. She turned away awkwardly and swallowed the meat filling without any taste.

...I wonder if if I give Lingert a bag of chestnuts, the kid will give me a new "thank you" in return?

Oh my God, she was really ravenous.

The wind carries the smell further.

Lundin, who had just driven out, couldn't help but step on the brakes, stuck his head out of the window, and took a deep breath.

Is this...fish?

How does cooking fish produce such a smell?

He stretched his neck in confusion and looked into the alley. He remembered that the spicy yet extremely fragrant smell came from here last time.

Who is it? There aren't many good restaurants on this street.

But before the fat chef could think further, he heard the urging voice of passers-by from behind.

He had to restart the car and cheer up for the evening.

However, things did not go so smoothly for Lundin.

Earl Philip's estate is located in the east of Denham Town. A huge magnolia tree stands in the lush courtyard, and roses, geraniums and anemones are swaying freely under the tree.

Vineyards and orchards are on both sides. As the wind blows, the entire carpet-like thick and soft grass is filled with an intoxicating sweet fragrance.

The villa in the center of the courtyard is even more refined and elegant. Angel carvings left over from the Victorian era emerge from every corner of the brick walls, making the entire building look like an 18th-century lady surrounded by a group of lazy servants.

Every time he came here, Lundin had to take several deep breaths before he could move forward steadily, not to mention that something had just happened today.

This made him a little nervous, and even his movements were not smooth.

"Lundin," Count Philip said, sitting at the head of the long table, his silk scarf still fastened with a gold buckle. He sat in a recliner and closed his book. "You're late today. What happened?"

"No, no. Sorry, I mean sorry, sir. I'm fine. I've been preparing for a long time and I'm sure you'll be satisfied." Lundin wiped the sweat off his face and carried all the things he had brought into the kitchen. The servants had offered to help him, but he refused them all.

The heat from the kitchen made Lundin sweat again. He smelled the scum of simmering soup pots, the smell of lamb fat, and the woody aroma of chopped rosemary.

He also saw that there was even more food in the kitchen than the last time he had seen it: baskets of wild mushrooms, green apples and orange pears piled up in a small mountain nearby, two pink crabs in a metal tub, blocks of freshly churned butter as bright as dandelion flowers, and several large wheels of pale yellow cheese as big as a grown man's head.

A silver spice lid was placed on a glass box, and a whole cabinet of spices cast long shadows on the ground.

Lundin knew that all of this in the kitchen came from the art of the manor's real chef, the Count.

Philip is a person who loves food very much. Although he has a fixed chef in his kitchen, he still likes to invite those famous chefs to his manor to cook for him on the spot.

If the chef surprises him, he will spare no effort to promote it to his friends.

Generous nobles will quickly spread the reputation of chefs. A guy from Denham was once noticed by a big hotel in London because of this. This is also Lundin's deepest dream.

I can't mess this up, the fat chef kept thinking.

And then he screwed up.

When he poured the pepper again, his hands were shaking because he was too nervous, and the pungent smell of pepper immediately covered most of the aroma.

Lundin's face turned as pale as a ghost, and he could only fumble with butter and chicken broth to neutralize the heat.

But the count still tasted it.

After taking the first bite, Philip wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and rinsed his mouth with brandy.

"Perhaps I should tell the kitchen staff," he sighed softly, the diamond buttons on his cuffs gleaming, reflecting the fat chef's pale face, "next time the manor doesn't need to buy such a large amount of pepper."

Lundin's vision went dark, and his whole body convulsed. He realized it was over, everything was over!

Embarrassment and regret almost overwhelmed him.

When the fat chef was being escorted out of the manor by the servants, he indeed did not receive the next invitation time. Although he kept asking with a smile, the servants just smiled politely.

This made his steps heavier.

His London dream! Damn it!

Someone must be held responsible for this... In the cool moonlight, Lundin scratched his hair fiercely, he must!

—

The next day, Ferry took Lin Weilun on an outpatient clinic to examine a pregnant sow.

The pig's name was "Daffodil". It was a 500-pound (about 450 kilograms) black and white pig with curly hair on its buttocks.

Because it was the first birth, the owner took it very seriously and was willing to spend extra money on medical consultation to ensure that everything went smoothly.

"The baby's due next week," Ferry removed his stethoscope and stood up from beside the giant Narcissus. "You can spend more time with him during this time to ease his stress. You can also feed him some milk; he needs a lot of nutrition. This litter will have at least 12 cubs."

"Okay, I've been feeding it good feed, rice, beans, fruit peels, roots, and so on. You know, raising sheep alone can no longer support our lives, and I'm counting on it. If... if I can sell it successfully, that would be great."

The lame owner smiled bitterly and took notes as he spoke. For a sow, the first birth is particularly important. If everything goes well, she can continue to give birth 3-5 times.

The newborn piglets are his new pillars of support.

But if something goes wrong during the first delivery, the sow's subsequent births will be greatly affected.

Lin Weilun looked up and down the pigsty to confirm that what the owner said was correct. He even saw a bucket of goat milk at the door of the pigsty.

Of course, just as the owner expected, Narcissus grew up very well. Her flesh was firm and her bones were strong. Even with her huge belly, she still had the energy to walk around the pigsty.

It was scrubbed clean, without even a trace of odor on its body. Its short white legs looked as if they had been foamed in milk, and its eyes were clear and bright.

This kind of pork is fed only with vegetables and fruits without any additives. Even without any seasoning, you can taste the pure milky flavor.

In later generations, such pork would not even be sold publicly, but would only be supplied to special groups of people.

But at this moment, the owner was even worried about whether he could sell the pork.

Lin Weilun's Adam's apple rolled, and a burning desire came from his stomach.

He guarantees that no modern person, filled with additives, can resist the urge to try it.

What an incomparable delicacy that would be?

Too bad they were just here to take a look.

Lin Weilun took great effort to tear his gaze away from Xiao Shuixian and got into the car with Old Ferry.

"I have to leave tonight," the old man said suddenly. "It's a personal matter. I will probably be back tomorrow at noon. Alma didn't leave many reservations."

Lin Weilun turned around and saw the old man and smiled. "You have obtained the junior qualification certificate for several days. It's time to see patients independently. But you have to stay in the clinic tonight in case there are night clinics."

Although the young man smiled and looked surprised and excited, that emotion did not reach his eyes.

He felt even more empty because he didn't get to eat any of the beef and the little pig he had been craving.

But it doesn't matter. He has realized the possibility of being a veterinarian through constant practice. This may be a more convenient profession than being a "chef" - in terms of how to "handle" animals.

He just needs a little time.

Maybe a little bit of coincidence is also needed.

The two did not go back to the clinic directly. On the way, Mr. Ferry took a detour and took people to Lid Valley, where the Stewart family's chicken farm was.

Although a veterinarian shouldn't interfere with another veterinarian's business, Ferry couldn't just sit back and watch. He felt he had to go to the farmer's house and warn him.

But what no one expected was that Stewart's chicken farm was surrounded by people.

The fat Lundin rushed to the front, carrying all the sick chickens he had killed, and blocked Stuart's way with every stall owner he had summoned, yelling, "You must give us an explanation! Compensation! You bastard! If the news gets out, every Denham person who has eaten sick chicken will come after us!"

"That's right! You must compensate us!" The stall owners argued confidently and followed Lundin to charge into battle.

They were found last night, and the fat chef only said one sentence.

"Ferry already knows about it, and even his newly hired assistant can see it. So we have to take preemptive action before the news gets out. Otherwise, if anything goes wrong, you'll all be responsible for it!"

Stuart was so angry that his face turned red and his neck became thick. "Are you crazy?! Didn't I give you a low price?! Do you dare to say that you didn't know the truth from the beginning to the end! How much extra money have you made during this period?! Do you dare to say it out loud!"

"Of course we don't fucking know!" someone shouted. "If it weren't for the Ferry Clinic, there's no way we would have found out!"

Oh no, of course they do.

How could someone who deals with chicken all year round not notice anything?

But Stewart tacitly lowered the selling price, and the profit they made was enough to make up for that little bit of conscience.

You won’t die from eating it anyway, right?

But being discovered was another matter. If word got out, they would be the ones facing the wrath of their customers. If they wanted to escape endless trouble, they had to strike first.

Besides, they are victims too!

There was a shrewd glint in every boss's eyes.

There was no evidence of the secret transaction, and Stewart had no way to deal with these people.

But he's no pushover! He's run a chicken farm in this place for almost ten years! These cunning guys want to put all the blame on him? No way!

A new round of quarrel broke out, and Stewart's wife immediately ran out at her husband's signal to contact the Ministry of Agriculture.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Lundin said in disbelief. "The Ministry of Agriculture is here, and you'll face a huge fine!"

"I'm not going to face this alone!" Stuart's eyes were red. "You and I are together! The Ministry of Agriculture will invite professionals to come and investigate the cause and effect!"

He placed a strong emphasis on the word "professional" and pushed away the vendor who was about to hit him. "Guess who it is!"

Everyone reacted one after another, and their expressions instantly turned into horror.

Someone immediately ran over and tried to stop Stewart's wife, and the scene became even more chaotic.

Lin Weilun stood outside the car with his hands in his pockets, his gray-blue eyes calm and indifferent.

Dog bites dog.

No one can escape.

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