Chapter 129 The Power of Food (Part Two) Abandoned Mine Tunnel No. 3...

The abandoned mine tunnel No. 3 is packed with people today.

The mysterious merchant Horn stood on a wooden crate, holding a ceramic jar aloft: "Gentlemen, I have big news today. Hope Merchant's new products have arrived."

The dwarfs below all raised their heads in unison.

"Sweet potato series, tofu series, and spicy sauce specially made for dwarfs!"

What is a sweet potato?

"Tofu? Is that the new food that was mentioned before, especially suitable for the elderly and children?"

"Spicy sauce? That sounds amazing."

Barry, acting as his assistant, took a golden object from his bag and slowly opened his palm.

The golden-yellow dried sweet potatoes gleamed enticingly under the torchlight.

The mine tunnel was quiet for a moment.

"This is called dried sweet potato. It's sweet, chewy, and very filling."

"Is it true or not?" some people questioned.

"Try it if you don't believe me." Barry began handing out sample packs.

The first dwarf put the dried sweet potato in his mouth and took a small bite. Then he froze.

It's not the cloying sweetness, but rather a chewy texture that becomes more fragrant the more you chew.

Three seconds of collective silence.

Then, a cacophony of noise erupted from the mine shaft.

“I want five pounds,” a dwarf said in a deep voice.

“I want ten pounds,” another chimed in.

"Give me twenty pounds."

Horn and Barry began trading in an orderly fashion. The dwarves lined up spontaneously, exchanging their forged ironware, mined ores, and tools for the food.

Blacksmith Stone Hammer and a few of his brothers squeezed in, followed by two handcarts loaded with ironware.

“Horn,” Stonehammer’s voice was deep, “this is all the goods we’ve ordered this month: thirty iron pots, fifty iron shovels, and forty iron hammers. How much can we get in exchange?”

Horn examined them carefully; the ironware was of excellent quality and well-made.

"It can be exchanged for at least two hundred pounds of dried sweet potatoes, one hundred pounds of dried tofu, and fifty jars of spicy sauce."

Stone Hammer paused for a moment, then said, "Deal."

“However,” Barry pulled a package from his pocket, “I suggest you keep some to exchange for this.”

It was a packet of sweet potato noodles, which appeared translucent under the torchlight.

"What's this?"

“Sweet potato noodles,” Barry began his demonstration.

When Barry picked up a softened glass noodle and ladled out a bowl of cooked glass noodle and pickled cabbage soup from the thermos, the aroma instantly spread.

The blacksmiths all swallowed hard.

"Want to try some?" Barry handed over a few small bowls.

Shi Chui took the bowl, picked up a piece of rice noodle with his chopsticks, and carefully put it into his mouth.

Then his expression froze.

The light, bouncy texture between your teeth, the tangy pickled cabbage perfectly balancing the rich flavor of the glass noodles, and the oil from the salted pork adding even more depth to the dish...

“I…” Stone Hammer swallowed the first bite with difficulty, “Add another fifty pounds of vermicelli.”

“Wait, I want one too,” said the other blacksmith.

They restrained their urge to loot and waited silently for Barry to distribute the spoils. The dwarves' pride wouldn't allow them to scramble like beggars; even in their hunger, they had to maintain their last shred of dignity.

In another corner of the mine tunnel, the foreman, Gom, carefully squeezed in, clutching a cloth bag in his hand.

"Barry, do you have any... food suitable for the elderly? My husband is getting old and his teeth aren't very good..."

As he spoke, his eyes reddened: "He's been getting thinner and thinner lately, I...I'm really scared..."

Barry's eyes immediately softened: "Yes!" He then took out a piece of tender tofu wrapped in a damp cloth: "Uncle Gom, this tofu is very tender. It crumbles easily when picked up with chopsticks and melts in your mouth. It's also very nutritious and good for your health."

“And this,” Horn also chimed in, pulling out a packet of soy milk powder. “Just add hot water and you have soy milk. Drinking it warm is good for your stomach and nourishing your body.”

"Paired with sweet potato porridge, it's soft, sticky, and sweet, making it perfect for the elderly."

Gorm's eyes lit up: "How much... is this?"

"Two pieces of tofu, one packet of soy milk powder, three pounds of dried sweet potatoes, totaling two silver coins."

"That's all?" Gom couldn't believe it.

"How can we charge more for showing respect to our elders?"

“Okay, okay,” Gom excitedly pulled out his money. “I’ll take them all, and give me another one.”

Barry patted him on the shoulder: "This tofu can be steamed or boiled. Don't rush it, feed it slowly so it can be absorbed well."

Gorm's eyes welled up with tears, and he bowed deeply to Barry and Horn: "Thank you... thank you both..."

Just then, a deafening roar came from deep within the mine.

"My dear mountain god!!!"

Everyone turned their heads away.

There was a burly, short foreman covering his mouth, tears and snot streaming down his face, which was flushed red, but his eyes were shining with an unusual light.

"This...this taste..." he stammered, "This feeling...it's like my mouth is on fire, but I can't stop...this...this is simply..."

He couldn't continue because it was too spicy.

But with trembling hands, he scooped out another large spoonful from the small earthenware jar and stuffed it into his mouth without hesitation.

Three seconds later, his face turned from flushed to deep red, and beads of sweat fell like raindrops.

But he still gave a thumbs up and roared in a hoarse voice, "Awesome! Even better than strong liquor!"

The entire mine tunnel instantly erupted in excitement.

"Give me twenty cans!"

"I want fifty cans!"

Riding the wave of this frenzy, the pace of transactions noticeably quickened. A familiar dwarf miner, handing over ore, whispered to Horn, "Old Horn, both sides are cracking down hard right now, the roads aren't safe. How dare you still bring in so much cargo?"

Horn's men deftly counted the ore, replying in a low voice without looking up, "What else? Watch you starve? I've been in the mining business with you for over a decade; my life and fortune are already tied to yours." He paused, lowering his voice even further, almost audible only to the two of them, "It's precisely because of me that I was able to acquire this under the noses of both sides. But then again, this kind of black market business is ultimately walking a tightrope; everyone knows that, so caution is advised."

Upon hearing this, the dwarf nodded solemnly, took the goods, and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

The trading in the mine tunnels continued until late at night.

......

In the working-class neighborhood, in Stonehammer's hut.

The family sat around a small table with a hard-earned stew of sweet potato noodles in the center.

"Dad, what is this?" the youngest son asked, his eyes wide.

"Delicious!" Shi Chui lifted the lid of the pot, and the aroma of sweet potato noodles and pickled cabbage made the whole family's mouths water.

Each person only received a small spoonful, but it was enough for them to experience the deliciousness.

The children wolfed down their food, while his wife, Ajin, finished her small spoonful with tears in her eyes.

"I wish I could eat this every day..." the younger daughter whispered.

Shi Chui didn't speak, looking at the almost empty stew on the table, and then at the children's longing eyes.

“Akin,” he said suddenly, his voice hesitant, “I…I want to leave the city and go to the humans…to buy more…and also to learn how to do these things.”

Ah Jin was clearing the dishes when he heard this and stopped what he was doing.

The candlelight cast a soft shadow on her face. She remained silent for a moment, then finally put down the bowl in her hand and looked up at her husband.

"Why?" she asked softly.

“Because…” Stonehammer looked at the two children in the corner who were so sleepy they could barely keep their eyes open, “because I want them, you, and your mother… to be able to eat these good things. I don’t want to see you go hungry anymore.”

"But..." Ah Jin said with some worry, "If we leave the city... won't we be guarded...?"

“I’ve inquired,” Stone Hammer said in a low voice. “I know a few of the old guards near the West Gate. If we wait until the night shift changes and mingle with the crowds of people going out of town to dig for wild vegetables, we should be able to get out.”

Looking into her husband's determined eyes, Ajin finally nodded: "Then... I support you. But you have to promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise." Stone Hammer held his wife's hand tightly.

In the noble district, separated by only a wall, lies Green's mansion.

The main hall was brightly lit, and the long table was laden with roast meat, wine, and cheese.

"Come on, let's drink to our war!" Green raised his glass.

The nobles were drinking and chatting, completely unaware of what was happening outside the walls.

A piece of meat fell to the ground, and no one paid any attention. A whole roasted chicken was only eaten halfway before being tossed aside.

"Lord Green," a servant whispered, "the miners outside seem to be talking about something..."

“What’s it to us?” Green waved his hand impatiently. “They just need to do their jobs. Come on, keep drinking.”

Laughter echoed through the hall.

No one noticed that outside the window, pairs of eyes were watching everything through the cracks.

They were miners from the working-class area.

They had just bought a small amount of dried sweet potatoes from the black market that day, and on their way home they happened to pass through the aristocratic district. Through the windows of the Green Mansion, they saw a table laden with delicious food, and also saw the food that had been wasted.

A young miner clenched his fist.

“They’re wasting food,” he said in a low but angry voice, “while we…we can’t even get enough black bread to eat…”

"Stop talking," the old miner next to him tugged at his sleeve. "Let's go."

But the young miner didn't move; he kept staring at the window.

“They say this war is for our own good,” he muttered to himself, “but why are we the ones suffering while they are the ones enjoying the benefits?”

No one answered.

Because everyone knows the answer.

In the dwarven camp, General Ironbeard stood on a high platform, with three hundred soldiers standing neatly below him.

"Warriors," his voice boomed, "we are preparing for a new offensive. We will show those humans that the warriors of the dwarves are invincible, we will..."

He suddenly stopped talking.

A rich, complex, and irresistible fragrance wafted over on the breeze.

Ironbeard's nostrils flared slightly uncontrollably. He tried to maintain a serious expression, but his Adam's apple still involuntarily bobbed.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, trying to continue, "We need to...we need to..."

Another fragrant breeze wafted by, this time even more intense.

The soldiers below began to stir.

"General..." a young soldier timidly raised his hand, "Um...it seems like they're making Mapo Tofu over at the human camp..."

"What is Mapo Tofu?" Tie Xu frowned.

"It's...it's a dish made with tofu..." the soldier swallowed hard. "I heard it's really delicious..."

He couldn't continue speaking because his mouth was already watering.

Ironbeard glared at him and continued his lecture: "How can we dwarven warriors be swayed by even a little fragrance..."

"Gurgle..."

A loud growl from his stomach interrupted him.

The entire room fell silent for a second.

Then, the rumbling of my stomach, "glug," "glug," "glug," and so on, sounded like some kind of eerie symphony.

Ironbeard's face turned bright red. Because the loudest sound just now came from his stomach.

"That's all for today's...that's all for today's lecture," he announced, forcing a smile. "We'll continue tomorrow!"

"Yes," the soldiers replied, as if granted a pardon, and quickly dispersed.

After the speech, the soldiers gathered in twos and threes.

"Have you heard? The humans are giving away new food for free and teaching the dwarves how to make sweet potatoes and tofu..."

“My cousin went there, he learned how to roast sweet potatoes, and he brought them back to make for the whole family. My mom said it was the best thing she had ever eaten in her life.”

"Is it really that exaggerated?"

"It's true, my cousin also said that the humans there are really good. They not only teach for free, but also provide three meals a day."

“I want to learn too…” a young soldier whispered.

“But we’re the garrison,” someone nearby worriedly said, “If we go outside the city, we’ll be caught…”

“According to the rules of the dwarves,” someone said in a deep voice, “absconding from one’s post will result in the loss of a warrior’s honor.”

These words silenced everyone. For dwarves, losing their warrior's honor was worse than death.

Balg Bronzebeard sat in the corner, remaining silent.

“Bronzebeard,” someone asked him, “what do you think?”

Barger was silent for a moment, then finally took out a small bag from his pocket.

"What's this?"

“Dried sweet potatoes,” Balger said softly, his face slightly flushed. “I…I traded half a month’s pay for them…”

"Half a month's military pay?! And this is all in this tiny package?"

Is it worth it?

Barger nodded seriously, then carefully took out a piece of dried sweet potato, broke it into several small pieces, and distributed them to his comrades around him.

"You'll know once you try it."

The soldiers took the dried sweet potatoes with some skepticism and put them in their mouths.

Then everyone fell silent.

"My God..." someone murmured, "This...this is so delicious..."

"Half a month's salary...it was worth it..."

Looking at his comrades' expressions, Balg's eyes suddenly became somewhat unfocused. He recalled the last medium-sized conflict with the humans. Although the dwarves had won, and he had miraculously returned unscathed, several of his brothers had been lost forever on that battlefield. Back then, as he dragged his armor, stained with mud and blood, back home, he had only one thought in his mind: he was willing to fight to the death for the dwarves, but he also wanted to taste the good things in this world while he was still alive, to have a good meal, and to live each day to the fullest.

“You say… according to dwarven tradition, we should fight to the last moment and never yield.”

Everyone was looking at him.

“But…” his voice was soft, “if the result of the battle is that our people starve to death… then what meaning does this honor have?”

No one answered.

The question was too weighty, so heavy that no dwarf dared to speak of it lightly.

Late at night, Ironbeard sat at his desk, a latest intelligence report laid out before him:

"Black market trading volume has reached a new high, with sweet potato and tofu products in short supply."

"Parties have emerged within the pro-war faction, with some generals beginning to question the necessity of the war."

"Soldier morale remains low."

Tie Xu rubbed his temples, feeling a splitting headache.

Outside the window, the camp kitchen had already turned off its fire, but the burnt smell of black bread porridge still lingered in the air. Meanwhile, an enticing aroma continued to waft from the human camp.