Chapter 130 The Power of Food (Part 3) Late at night, Stone Hammer carried...

Late at night, Shi Chui, carrying a simple bag and leading two children by the hand, with A Jin following beside them, groped their way towards the West Gate in the darkness.

The street was dark and quiet, with only the distant clanging of the night patrolman's iron boots on the stone slabs.

“Be careful,” Stonehammer whispered, “Don’t make a sound.”

The two children nodded nervously, gripping their father's hands tightly.

When they arrived at the West Gate, Stonehammer saw a familiar figure—the old guard Hammer, whose son had once apprenticed with Stonehammer at the blacksmith shop.

Old Hammer saw the stone hammer, a moment of hesitation flashed in his eyes, and finally he sighed.

"you..."

“Uncle Hammer,” Stonehammer said softly, “I just wanted to…”

"Wait a quarter of an hour, when the shift changes... blend into the crowd of people digging for wild vegetables. You must be back before the city gates close at night."

"Thank you," Stonehammer nodded gratefully.

“Don’t thank me,” Hammer turned around, “I just…don’t want to see more children starve to death.”

The city gate opened a crack. A dozen or so dwarfs cautiously squeezed out, each carrying a hoe and a basket. No one spoke; only their footsteps clattered in the dust.

Shi Chui and his family blended into the crowd and quietly left the city gate.

Once outside the city, the lights of the human camps in the distance seemed to belong to another world. Akin couldn't help but wipe the corner of his eye.

"Finally out..."

Shi Chui held his wife's hand: "Let's go see what they're teaching."

Outside the human camp, a row of tents were brightly lit, and the air was filled with the sweet aroma of sweet potatoes.

Ryan stood outside the tent, watching the dwarves arrive one after another, his expression complex. Most of these dwarves were people who had secretly left the city at night or lived outside the city; there were old people, children, young people, and middle-aged people.

“Sir,” the adjutant approached, “more than thirty people have arrived. Are we really going to teach them?”

“Of course,” Ryan nodded. “That’s exactly what we want. The wider the technology spreads, the more indispensable it becomes to us.” He looked at the dwarves. “Besides, they’ve risked being captured to learn; how can we let them down?”

The subordinate set up a table at the entrance of the tent and took out a thick animal skin register: "Everyone, please line up to record your names."

The dwarfs lined up neatly.

When it was Stone Hammer's turn, he straightened his back and said, "Stone Hammer, forty-two years old, blacksmith. I want to learn... roasting sweet potatoes, making soy milk, and sweet potato noodles."

His subordinate glanced up at him and wrote on the roster: "Tomorrow morning, the teaching tent on the east side. Don't be late."

"must!"

Stone Hammer took the animal skin slip with the time and place written on it, feeling his palms sweating.

The next day, just as dawn broke, the tents were already filled with people. The human soldiers' camp was some distance away; here, only a group called the Hope Merchant Guild had set up several cooking stoves. This lowered the dwarves' guard somewhat. A young cook, wearing a clean apron, stood on the platform.

“Gentlemen,” he announced in a loud voice, “welcome to the Hope Trading Company’s training ground. I am your instructor, Xiao Shan, and over the next few days I will teach you some practical cooking skills.”

The dwarves below all nodded in unison.

"Today, we'll learn our first dish—roasted sweet potatoes." Xiaoshan took out a few sweet potatoes. "Don't underestimate this dish; it may seem simple, but it's actually quite intricate."

“First, choose the sweet potatoes,” Xiaoshan picked up a sweet potato, “choose ones that are uniform in size, have intact skin, and no wormholes. Too big ones won’t bake through, and too small ones won’t be enough to eat. One like this, about a pound, is the most suitable.”

The dwarves listened intently, and many even took notes with small wooden boards.

Stone Hammer sat in the first row, his small wooden board already covered with notes: "The sweet potatoes should be uniform", "Around one pound is best", "The skin should be intact".

“Then, wash the sweet potatoes,” Xiaoshan explained while demonstrating. “Note that you don’t need to peel them. You can eat the sweet potato skin after roasting, and some people think the skin is even more fragrant.”

He put the washed sweet potatoes into a special oven: "Put them in the oven and roast them over medium heat for about four quarters of an hour. Note that it must be medium heat. If the heat is too high, the outside will burn while the inside is still raw; if the heat is too low, they won't be roasted through."

"How do you tell if it's cooked?" Xiaoshan took out a bamboo skewer. "Poke it with a bamboo skewer or chopsticks. If it goes in easily without any resistance, it's cooked. If there's still a hard core, keep grilling it."

As they spoke, a sweet aroma wafted from the stove.

The dwarves sniffed hard, their stomachs beginning to rumble. But they endured it, and no one lost their composure.

"Alright, it's almost time," Xiaoshan opened the oven door and used tongs to take the sweet potatoes out. "Look, the skin is already charred, which is normal."

He broke the sweet potato apart with his hands.

The golden-yellow potato flesh is exposed to the air, steaming hot, exuding a sweet aroma, and has a soft and glutinous texture.

"Now, everyone try it yourselves."

The dwarves stood up, each took two raw sweet potatoes, and then returned to their workbenches.

The tent suddenly became lively.

Shi Chui washed the sweet potatoes thoroughly, checking them several times to make sure there was no dirt. Then he put the sweet potatoes into the oven.

"Medium heat...medium heat..." he muttered to himself. His blacksmithing instincts gave him a natural sensitivity to the heat, and he adjusted the size of the flame from time to time to ensure that the heat evenly enveloped the sweet potato.

Gom next to him had already failed twice in his attempts to bake it; once the fire was too high and it burned, and the other time the fire was too low and it wasn't cooked through.

“Gorm, don’t rush,” Stonehammer comforted him, “Take it slow, everyone’s like this the first time.”

"Isn't this your first time too?" Gom smiled wryly.

“But I believe I can learn it,” Stonehammer said earnestly. “Dwarves are never afraid to learn new things; we just need time.”

Four quarters of an hour slowly passed.

Shi Chui stared nervously at the furnace, his palms sweating.

"It should be... almost done, right?" He picked up a bamboo skewer and carefully opened the oven door. He gently poked the sweet potato with the skewer, and it pierced easily without any resistance.

"It...it's a success?" Stone Hammer couldn't believe it himself. He had made it with his own hands.

Xiao Shan walked over, examined it carefully, and showed an approving look on her face: "Not bad, as expected of a blacksmith, your ability to control the heat is truly outstanding. To be able to bake it like this on the first try is very good. The sweet potatoes are cooked evenly and there is no hard core."

Shi Chui felt his eyes welling up with tears. He had never imagined that he, a rough and clumsy blacksmith who had spent his whole life forging iron, could actually make such delicious food, and that his skill would even be praised.

"Father is amazing!" The two children gathered around, their eyes full of admiration.

Ajin smiled, his eyes filled with pride.

Xiao Shan patted Shi Chui on the shoulder: "This is just the beginning. Next, there's soy milk, sweet potato noodles... You'll learn slowly, you can learn them all." He paused, raising his voice slightly to make sure everyone in the tent could hear, "Once everyone has learned, I hope the trading company will provide sweet potatoes and soybeans as raw materials on a long-term basis. You can choose to buy the raw materials and process them yourself, or you can buy our pre-processed products directly. Of course, if you learn to make them yourself, you'll definitely get a much better price when buying the raw materials."

These words were like a reassuring pill, putting many dwarves who were still worried about what would happen next at ease.

In the afternoon, Xiaoshan continued to teach everyone how to make soy milk.

“Soy milk looks simple, but it’s actually quite particular,” he said, taking out a bowl of soaked soybeans. “First, you have to soak the soybeans, at least overnight. In summer, you have to put them in a cool place, otherwise they will turn sour.”

The dwarves started taking notes again.

"After soaking, grind it into a paste with a stone mill," Xiaoshan pointed to the stone mill next to her. "This process requires a little strength, but you can't grind it too fast, otherwise the soy milk will be coarse."

“After grinding, you need to filter out the soybean pulp,” he said, taking out a piece of fine gauze. “Pour the soy milk onto the gauze, leaving the soybean pulp behind, and filter out the soy milk.”

"The last and most important step is to boil the soy milk. It must be boiled thoroughly, otherwise it will have a beany taste. How do you know it's boiled thoroughly? After the soy milk boils, continue to boil it for another 15 minutes."

"Remember, it's boiled for a quarter of an hour after it boils."

"Okay, now pair up and help each other."

Stonehammer and Gorm formed a team.

“Come on, Gorm,” Stonehammer rolled up his sleeves, “I’m strong, I’ll grind it.”

"good!"

Shichui gripped the handle of the millstone and began to slowly turn it. At first, it was fine, but after a while, he felt the strain. This millstone didn't look big, but maintaining a consistent force and speed was really not easy.

"Slow down...slow down..." Gom reminded from the side, "Xiaoshan said we can't go too fast."

“I know…” Stone Hammer gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his speed.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, but he didn't stop.

One lap... two laps... three laps...

Finally, the milky white soy milk flowed out from the gaps in the stone mill and dripped into the wooden basin below.

“It’s done,” Gom said excitedly.

Next comes filtering and boiling the soy milk.

As the rich aroma of soybeans filled the tent, Xiaoshan served each group a small bowl of soy milk they had made themselves.

"Try the soy milk you made yourself."

Shi Chui picked up the bowl, gently blew on it, and the aroma mingled with the steam. He took a sip, and it was rich, smooth, and warm.

He paused for a moment, then suddenly smiled, his eyes shining.

"How about it? Feeling accomplished?"

Shichui nodded vigorously, his eyes welling up with tears again.

“Father,” the youngest son tugged at his sleeve, “I want some too…”

“Here,” Stone Hammer squatted down and handed the bowl to his son, “drink slowly, be careful it’s hot.”

The youngest son took a small sip cautiously, then his eyes lit up: "Delicious! Father's soy milk is so good!"

The younger daughter also came over: "I want one too."

Ajin stood to the side, looking at her husband and children, a happy smile on her face.

Gom secretly wiped away tears, saying, "I have to learn quickly so I can make it for my father..."

Three days later, the first batch of students completed their training.

"Gentlemen," Xiaoshan said with a smile, "after three days of learning, you have all mastered the basic skills. I hope the trading company will keep its promise and continue to provide you with high-quality raw materials at preferential prices. Of course, you can also purchase finished products directly."

“Master Xiaoshan,” Shichui stepped forward, bowed deeply, and said with genuine sincerity, “Thank you. These three days… have changed my life.”

“Don’t be shy,” Xiaoshan patted his shoulder. “Go back and do a good job so that more dwarves can eat good food. The skills you learn are yours to keep. You can use them however you want in the future. I hope the trading company will not charge any fees or impose any restrictions.”

“We have only one goal,” Xiaoshan looked around at all the dwarves, “to ensure that everyone can eat well and live a good life.”

Stonehammer nodded vigorously, turned to the other dwarves, and said, "Brothers, when we get back, how about we teach others too? Let's pass on everything we've learned!"

“Good idea,” Gom was the first to respond.

I agree!

"Make sure all the miners have good food,"

"So that all children can drink soy milk,"

"So that all elderly people can have sweet potato porridge,"

The calls for action are growing louder.

Ryan watched from a distance and smiled slightly.

“Sir,” the adjutant approached, “do you think... this war will continue?”

Ryan looked up at the horizon and remained silent for a long time.

"I don't know..."

Inside the mine shaft, several miners were gathered around a torch, talking in hushed tones.

"Have you heard? Stonehammer is back. He's learned how to make sweet potatoes and soy milk."

"real?"

"Really! This afternoon, he made roasted sweet potatoes for the whole family, and his two little rascals were all smiles as they ate them."

“I heard that too. Gom is back and even made soy milk for his father.”

"Then...then should we go learn too?"

"But if we leave the city... won't we get arrested?"

“What’s there to be afraid of?” the young miner said. “What’s a little risk if it’s just to give my family a hot meal?”

"right,"

"Let's go tomorrow morning too."

Similar conversations occurred in every corner of the mine tunnels.

The scent of hope spread through the mine shafts.

On the city wall, Balger and Ironface were still on night watch.

"Captain, look at those people."

Iron Face followed his gaze.

Groups of dwarves were quietly making their way toward the city gate.

“They’ve all gone to learn skills,” Balger said. “The human side is now receiving hundreds of students every day.”

The iron-faced man fell silent.

“Captain,” Balger suddenly said, “let’s learn how to make sweet potatoes after the war is over.”

Iron Face glanced at him and smiled, a rare occurrence for him: "Alright. Perhaps we should also learn how to make life better for the living."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the capital, Green's study was lit up all night.

"My lord! My lord!"

"What's wrong?" Green frowned.

"Something...something has happened!" The butler's face turned pale.

"What's up?"

"In the city... everywhere in the city, a folk song is being sung..."

"Folk songs? What folk songs?"

The butler read it aloud in a trembling voice:

"Wang Ting's table was set with roasted meat, while we were eating moldy bread."

Humans bring us hot meals, why won't they let us take them?

We're the ones fighting on the battlefield, they're the ones hoarding food and making a fortune.

Who is this war for? Just thinking about it makes me feel indignant!

Green's hands began to tremble.

"Who...who wrote this?"

“I don’t know,” the butler said. “It just suddenly spread today, and people are singing it everywhere. In the civilian districts, in the mines, and even... even in the military camps.”

Green slammed his fist on the table.

"They've rebelled! They've all rebelled!"

"Go, arrest everyone who sings this song."

“But… sir,” the butler said hesitantly, “there are too many people singing it, and… and everyone remembers it; we simply can’t catch them all…”

Green was stunned.

He suddenly had a bad feeling.

Things were spiraling out of his control.

That night, the songs spread throughout the entire capital.

As the night deepened, in the depths of the palace, in a long-unopened bedroom, a lamp still burned.

In the candlelight, an elderly figure was flipping through something. They were confidential reports from all corners of the capital.

Regarding Green's hoarding and speculation, regarding the frenzied transactions on the black market...

After reading the last secret report, the figure slowly put it down and sighed.

"People's hearts are yearning for change, and the time has come."

The moonlight, like water, spilled over the entire capital city.

In the training ground, the last light went out. Tomorrow, a new batch of students will arrive.

The black market transactions finally ceased, and the dwarves, carrying the food they had purchased, returned home full of hope.

Green remained seated in his study, a flicker of terror and madness in his eyes. He sensed the storm was approaching. But he had no idea how fierce it would be.

The night breeze carries the sweet aroma of sweet potatoes, the delicate fragrance of soy milk, and the rich aroma of spicy sauce.

That's the taste of hope.

It also has the flavor of change.