Chapter 21
Velenlingert's reputation exploded on this day.
The guests staying at the clinic completely forgot about their pets and livestock, and a group of people gathered around the dining table, stuffing chicken into their mouths with an almost reverent attitude.
There is also orange blossom cake that is as fluffy as a cloud.
“My Holy Lord…”
An old man couldn't help but put his hands together and said, "Is this the grace I will receive before entering hell?"
Behind him, a gentleman in a suit and tie was fighting with a lady in a dark green dress for a small piece of cake that had fallen. Alma took the opportunity to stuff another piece into the mouth of old Ferry, who had difficulty walking.
Old Ferry glared at the group feasting on their food, chewing quickly while muttering, "This is clearly meant for Alma and me...!"
But when a customer turned around and made eye contact, he immediately grinned and laughed loudly, "How's it going? Our new clinic member is pretty good, isn't he?"
A dog was attracted by the smell and wanted to get closer to the long dining table, but was caught by an excited human with a washbasin three meters away.
If a few drops of brandy sauce accidentally fell on the table, the people around would loudly scold the culprit, then fight each other, and finally the winner would dip bread into the sauce and eat it.
It wasn't mealtime, but my stomach wasn't as empty as a homeless person who had been hungry for three hundred days.
But there was actually a battle going on at the dining table.
All the gentleman's etiquette and lady's decency were thrown out of the window.
Driven by the most primitive desires, people desperately stuff something into their mouths, but their bulging mouths can only utter a few words.
“Give me a bite!”
"You ate at least two extra spoonfuls of tomato, asshole!"
"Spit it out, you bastard! That's my onion!"
"What?! Put down the last piece of chicken! It's mine!"
Only three or five minutes had passed, and the plate of chicken chop and cake was completely empty, leaving only two empty plates.
"That's great," Alma clasped her hands together and breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't even have to wash the dishes. Thank God, thank Lingert."
"Thank you, Lingert!" the lady in the dark green dress babbled incoherently. "This meat is so tender! Whose chicken is this? Please tell me where to buy it!!"
Lin Weilun's eyes curved. "This is a very courageous 'customer' of mine. He will be very happy to receive your favor."
The lady didn't understand the meaning of the words and thought the young veterinarian was flirting with her. She smiled shyly and was about to say something when she was pushed away by another person.
"If you're going to cook something next time..." The gentleman in the suit tapped his cane nervously. "Brother, anything, please give me a call. I'm willing to pay for it, seriously! Or maybe some ancient oriental porcelain? Do you like it? Anything will do!"
"It was just a spur-of-the-moment decision," Lin Weilun smiled. "So sorry."
The gentleman in the suit showed a painful expression of losing a loved one.
"Thank you, child." The old man came over and shook Lin Weilun's hand. "This is the most delicious meal I have ever had. I feel very warm now."
Lin Weilun returned the handshake and spoke of something else. "It's my pleasure, but your goldfinch seems to need urgent treatment. After all, lung typhoid is not a disease that can be delayed."
"What? Pulmonary typhoid? How could this happen?" The old man panicked. "I thought it was just a throat problem."
Everyone then remembered that they had another baby. Their frenzied appetite quickly faded.
Mr. Ferry put on his standard serious face, and the dog that was howling under the basin was finally rescued by its loving owner.
But there are still people who stare at the empty plates on the table for a long time, like perverts.
But the carnival is over.
"It must have come into contact with some parrots recently," Lin Weilun said, donning a mask and rubber gloves as he carried the birdcage covered with a cloth into the examination room. "I just took a quick look, and its symptoms are much more serious than just a sore throat. It's coughing because its lungs are infected with Chlamydia psittaci."
Of course, it was mainly the gold finger that helped a lot.
When the words appeared, Lin Weilun immediately washed his hands with alcohol and other disinfectants. At that time, the others were still gathered at the dining table.
"Are you sure?" Old Ferry immediately handed the old man a mask and gloves, his brow furrowed. "Typhoid fever is a contagious disease. We don't have an X-ray machine here, so we can only do a blood test, but the results will take at least two or three days."
Typhoid fever is indeed an infectious disease, and humans are also a source of infection.
A similar infection broke out on a large scale in Africa a few years ago, and severe cases even resulted in death.
Fortunately, the old man was worried that the outside air would make his goldfinch's condition worse, so no matter at home or outside, the birdcage was covered with a thick layer of soft cloth, and he himself did not touch the bird directly.
"I can expedite it!" the old man said nervously. "Can you pay more? What if my pain gets worse in three days?"
"All right," said Ferry, "about a pound and three shillings. "The results will be out this afternoon."
Although he said this, after the old man left, he turned to Lin Weilun and said, "Seal this clinic temporarily. Pulmonary typhoid is a serious disease."
Lin Weilun was surprised for a moment, then he smiled knowingly and said, "Thank you for your trust."
"Thanks to your professionalism," said Old Ferry, waving his hand and blowing his beard. "Sometimes I really wonder if you grew up eating X-ray machines."
Yes.
What Old Ferry valued more than the delicious meal that seemed like a gift from God was Lin Weilun's diagnostic accuracy.
He never made a mistake.
So what else can't be trusted?
As it turned out, he was right again.
Because I paid an expedited fee, the laboratory gave me the results within three hours.
The laboratory immediately reported the psittacosis virus infection to the Ministry of Agriculture and the town hospital.
The two groups arrived at the old man's house at the same time. After some investigation, they "arrested" his next-door neighbor's pet parrot and sent all the neighbors to the hospital for examination.
In the end, the neighbor's mother and child were infected, but the father escaped because he was not at home.
"They thought it was just a common cold!" the old man said to everyone who was watching. "If it weren't for Mr. Lingert, we probably wouldn't have known it was the parrot that had infected us until we were buried in the cemetery!"
"Lingert?" someone asked, "Villon Lingert? The young veterinarian at Ferry's clinic? I just heard a few days ago that his orange blossom cakes are quite good, even better than those at the Royal Oak in London!"
The Royal Oak Hotel in London is said to be where the Queen also goes to dine.
For a remote town, the food there represents the highest standards in England.
However.
"Ah, this..." The old man snorted disdainfully. "That's right, Royal Oak? In front of Mr. Lingert, you're just an apprentice!"
So, after that day, Ferry Clinic suddenly became the most popular place in town.
Countless people lined up at the door before dawn. Some held the animals in their arms, not very skillfully, while others came empty-handed, just to try their luck and see if they could get some egg custard biscuits or chestnut paste.
A kind and compassionate veterinarian will surely treat them generously.
But it turns out that the man who was even more popular in the town than Laurence Olivier (the fastest-rising actor in England in 1928) was not really a kind person at all.
It would be better to say that no one thought he would be so cruel.
"It's just a castration operation... Please, can't you pay the money later?" The beautiful woman pleaded hesitantly, the pearl necklace on her neck emitting a tiny light.
"Sorry, 13 shillings," Lin Weilun said, unresponsive to the overwhelming perfume. "How would you like to pay?"
"I really don't have that much money. My husband died on German soil. The war burned everything down. I..." The beautiful woman wanted to say something else, but Lin Weilun had already passed her and looked at the crowd of people behind her, who were as dense as tadpoles. "Next."
"You black-hearted fellow!"
"Next!"
"Hey! I'm from Whitby, and I've heard so much about your cooking, how tender and smooth your chicken breasts are, and they're like they're somewhere where they can rip a woman's skirt off. So here I am, and listen, I can pay, as long as—"
"100 pounds." Lin Weilun said without raising his head.
"What?" The person on the other side was stunned.
Lin Weilun turned to a new page in his record book. "The last person who bought my craft paid 100 pounds. That's the price."
"You, you!" Mr. Whitby trembled with anger. "That's totally unreasonable! No wonder everyone says you're mean and stingy!"
"Oh," Lin Weilun finally looked up, "Thank you for the compliment. Next up!"
"Stingy! 100 pounds! Why doesn't he just rob it?!" Whitby left angrily, but when he went to the bus stop again, he was attracted by another strange and overbearing meaty smell.
He turned around with many others and saw a novel-shaped barbecue grill set up not far across the street.
The white suckling pig is coated with a thick layer of colorful sauce.
The fierce charcoal fire burned under the suckling pig, and the high temperature quickly burned the pig skin into an extremely attractive caramel color, like shiny honey syrup.
Mr. Whitby's pent-up anger at being humiliated burst and dissipated like bubbles when he saw the sauce slowly seeping into the deepest part of the meat along the cut.
My stomach protested violently and saliva was secreted at the fastest speed.
"The Fox and Hounds?" he muttered to himself. "This must be more professional and more delicious than that damn veterinarian! Humph! That black-hearted guy, even if I starve to death, I won't spend a pound on him!"
So he quickly ran into the crowd queuing outside the pub.
Just at this moment, the fat chef in a brand new chef's uniform came to the grill and shouted loudly.
"Dear ladies and gentlemen! The Fox and the Hound will reopen today! To reassure our customers, every piece of meat will be inspected and stamped by Mr. Verenlingert of the Ferry Clinic before it is served!"
"Fox & Hound, you can eat with peace of mind and happiness, just like in the forest! Just like around a campfire!"
Mr. Whippet: "..."
At first, the locals scoffed at this.
But the sentence "Every piece of meat is inspected by Velenlingert" obviously made some people relax.
The most important thing is the roast suckling pig.
Oh my God, when Lundin cut the suckling pig with the sharpest knife, drops of fat slowly flowed down the texture of the pork.
The transparent, crystal-like fat rubbed against the sauce, thus dyeing it into a more delicious and tasty color. It was thick but sweet, like a stream of caramel water, drowning the soft pink meat underneath.
The meat was indeed so tender and smooth that the blade slid lightly, and a large piece of fat and lean meat wobbled and fell onto the white plate.
Lundin sprinkled a layer of tender green chopped parsley on top, like a thin blanket made of meadow grass for the forest princess. A smell of sunlight and fire burst out, as deadly as a demon.
People watched closely, smelled, and heard their stomachs rise and fall in symphony.
If "I'm hungry" had a color, it would definitely be the color of the barbecue grill in front of the Fox Tavern.
So that day, the Fox and the tavern's traffic exploded.
Not to mention the limited edition roast suckling pig, even the other dishes that Lundin modified based on the recipe given by Lingert were sold out.
"141 pounds!" Late at night, Lundin excitedly held up the bill and walked around Lin Weilun's living room, "I made 141 pounds today!!"
Lin Weilun turned off the oven and said, "Congratulations! It looks like the Fox Tavern has been revived."
"It's all because of you!" Lundin babbled incoherently, gesticulating. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be where I am today! This is 30% of what I promised you! I'll deliver it to you every day from now on!"
"Don't," Lin Weilun glanced at him, "You're just here to eat for free, right?"
Corentin could no longer hear what he was saying, his eyes fixed on the dining table.
Today was very busy and tiring, so Lin Weilun didn't make a big fuss.
Dinner consisted of flaky omelette, creamy young peas, and sweet almond apple pie.
The apple pie uses freshly picked apples, which are simmered into a thick apple puree, and then an appropriate amount of flour is added. The base flavor is almond paste flavored with lemon.
But the sauce alone is not enough. He uses a rolling pin to crush large almonds into smaller crumbs that are easier to eat, and spreads them evenly on top of the apple pie.
This made the whole pie suddenly turn into an autumn forest, with pine cones scattered all over the ground, and the pine cones exuding the unique sweet fragrance of a milk river.
Of course, he didn’t forget the most important part: some clove powder and cinnamon, and finally chose to finish it with maple syrup, which would taste lighter and purer than using heather honey, and closer to nature.
This pie is a bit time-consuming to make, but the result is surprisingly good.
Lundin took a small bite and felt as if the whole world disappeared in an instant.
He forgot everything, the success of the pub, the piles of pounds he had made, all disappeared from his mind.
For a long moment he couldn't see where he was.
"Sometimes..." Lundin looked up sadly. "I really want to move in here and work like a slave for you! Even if you have to step on my head to brush your teeth, as long as you give me food, I'll be happy!"
Lin Weilun glanced at him with disdain. "Don't be like that. You look like a pervert. And I don't have time. Mr. Philip's banquet will start in three days. I might move into the manor."
At this point, Lundin wailed, "I haven't received the Count's invitation yet... I'm afraid I'll never have the chance to attend this banquet again!"
Glancing at the money on the table, Lin Weilun smiled and said, "No, you will, believe me."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
