Chapter 22
In consideration of the 30% revenue share, Lin Weilun originally planned to help Lundin and bring his tavern back into the earl's sight.
But unexpectedly, the next morning, Lin Weilun received a message from Lundin.
"I don't think I need the Earl's approval anymore." The fat chef's exaggerated laughter woke the sleepy morning birds. "Teacher, please go check on the entrance of my tavern!"
Lin Weilun looked confused, put down the phone and walked out.
Today is a typical British cloudy day. Under the gray sky, early morning bees are buzzing towards the garden, early morning bus drivers are hurrying by with coffee in hand, and small vendors pushing goods are struggling to move forward on the cobblestone road.
He greeted the vendors he knew, then turned around and saw people, lots and lots of people.
People lined up in a queue, like a long snake shaking its head and tail, stretching from the other end of the foggy street all the way to his doorstep.
"So when does it open?"
Lin Weilun heard someone complaining, "My feet are already sore from standing so much! Will the roast suckling pig still be limited today?"
"I heard it's limited, but that's okay. Even if you can't get a plate of suckling pig, I heard the grilled macaroni is pretty good too. The sauce is the same as the roast suckling pig, just without the meat."
"No meat?! I only want meat! Seriously, couldn't the fat chef just prepare a few more piglets?"
Another waved his arms. "But the tavern sells out just on that sauce!"
Wait, Lin Weilun leaned against the door, a little surprised, so these are the people queuing up to eat barbecue at the Fox Tavern?
He finally understood where Lundin's confidence came from on the phone.
"Did you see that?" Lundin said, as happy as a nouveau riche who had inherited millions of pounds. "I don't think I need anyone's help anymore. I don't have that much time anymore. Instead of waiting for Philip's olive branch, I might as well develop some new cuisines. Sir, if you have time, please come with me to check out some new sources of meat?"
"I've already bought all the suckling pigs and sheep provided by the Kun family, but they're not enough."
Knowing his mentor so well, Lundin added, "Don't worry, I won't let you go in vain."
So Lin Weilun reluctantly agreed, but where to find the meat was a problem.
The town of Denham is surrounded by farms of all sizes. Looking at each one, I'm afraid the work won't be done until next year.
While I was thinking, the phone suddenly rang.
"An urgent outpatient!" cried Mrs. Alma. "The clinic is so busy that Mr. Ferry can't spare any time. You're the only one who can go this time. It's the Robinson family in Lid Valley. They have a problem with their geese. Can you do it?"
"No problem." Lin Weilun glanced at the clock. If he was fast enough, he could get back before lunch and would not delay today's schedule.
"But there's a problem." The sound of shuffling papers came from the other end of the line. "Robinson is not a generous man. Last month and the month before last, he owed us a total of 2 pounds 10 shillings."
Lin Weilun paused while taking his coat. "This again?"
This is not the first debtor he knows of. Unlike the pets that are seen immediately in the clinic, farmers in these remote areas usually pay on a monthly basis due to inconvenient transportation and meager income.
After each visit, Old Ferry would leave a bill. At the end of the month, he would mail the entire month's bill, and the farmers would mail the money back.
But paying back the money on time is a luxury.
Because of some unspoken kindness of Mr. Ferry, they usually had to push for a long time before they could get the money back from the farmer.
Apparently, this Robinson is one of those who is less trustworthy.
Alma sighed, "Yes, yes, another one. So if possible, don't forget to ask for the money this time. If you can get the money back, that would be great. Otherwise, let Ferry clean up this mess himself."
"By the way, you can drive his Rover."
Lin Weilun raised his eyebrows, said nothing, went back to the clinic, got the tools and bill, got in the car and set off.
The Robinson family's house is next to a valley, and within the low stone wall are neatly arranged goose houses.
There were the sounds of chickens crowing from inside, but more of them were flocks of pure white Eden geese.
The little guy held his head high like a general, staring at the uninvited guest intently, as if he could rush up and take a bite at any time.
Lin Weilun is very familiar with this kind of goose. It was originally a German breed, but because of its excellent meat quality and large and plump size, it is also raised on a large scale in the UK.
Before he traveled through time, he had eaten this kind of goose in Cornwall in southwest England. It was mixed with lamb and turnips to make a mince pie, served with pine nut syrup and the British-specific Aberwood (a smoky cheese), and washed down with a glass of sugar-free pineapple juice and a punch made with crushed ginger. The taste was simply superb.
At that time, he drank three servings in one breath in the tavern with a burning fireplace, and was so full that he had to get up in the middle of the night to take stomach medicine.
Now, standing on the land from more than a hundred years ago, I can see the varieties in my memory again.
This feeling is really...
His fingers curled slightly, his Adam's apple rolled, and he felt a familiar hollowness in his stomach.
"Hey, it's you!" The man carrying the shovel waved at Lin Weilun. "I recognize you. You've become so famous lately. My neighbor's little daughter has been to see you three times, carrying a hen!"
Lin Weilun smiled politely and didn't say anything. He just asked, "Which goose has a problem?"
Robinson, frustrated with himself, shrugged his shoulders, and pointed to a few simple goose coops on the other side. "I discovered the problem there the day before yesterday. I initially thought it was soft foot syndrome, but adding calcium didn't help. Neither did the medicine Ferry left behind. On the contrary, more and more geese are having problems, especially the goslings. I suspect it's some kind of infectious disease, so I've put them in a simple quarantine."
Lin Weilun caught the key words, "They can't stand up?"
"Yes," Robinson said, lighting the kerosene lamp above the goose house - there were no electrical wires here, just a simple farmhouse made of straw and wheat straw.
"They can't stand up, so they have no appetite, but they poop a lot." The farmer, holding his breath, squatted down and motioned the veterinarian to look inside. "Look how thin they are. This autumn is another damn season!"
Lin Weilun brought the kerosene lamp closer and found that most of the goslings were around 30-40 days old.
These little creatures had shaggy, disheveled feathers, their heads tilted deeply, their long necks twisted into a semicircle, and their legs limp on the ground, their posture strange and somewhat like a water snake.
Lin Weilun touched the nearest gosling, and a line of familiar words immediately appeared in the air.
A goose infected with goose paramyxovirus
"Is it limp foot syndrome?" Robinson asked hopefully. "If so, I don't need to spend extra money on medicine. Just give them some eggshells, right?"
"What a shame," Lin Weilun said, taking out a handkerchief as a cushion, holding down the nearest goose and pulling it out. "I'm afraid you'll have to pay more than just a few eggs. Look here."
He held up the gosling's butt so that the light from the kerosene lamp could clearly illuminate the layers of paste on it.
"Diarrhea, green diarrhea, not too serious, but it's starting. Mental lethargy, anyone with eyes can see it. Increased nasal discharge, and noises. Did you hear that?"
Robinson covered his nose. "What's that sound?"
"Cluck, cluck, cluck," Lin Weilun said as he leaned over to the limp goose and pointed at its twisted neck. "Listen, there's a cluck, cluck, cluck sound in the throat. This is a symptom of a swollen throat and difficulty breathing. Sir, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this is goose paramyxovirus."
Robinson's eyes widened. "What virus?"
"Goose Paramyxovirus," Lin Weilun put the goose down, stood up, clapped his hands, and explained patiently, "It's a rare infectious disease, a very rare one in this era. Fortunately, you discovered it early. If it were a few days later, you would have harvested a basketful of them, no, a whole goose would have been killed."
At this point, he turned his head to glance at the goose pen that the farmer had allocated to the healthy geese, and added, "Maybe it's not far away now. Paramyxovirus is very contagious. Have you checked those little guys?"
It took Robinson three seconds to realize what the veterinarian was saying.
He pointed at the person opposite him, and words like "bastard", "unlearned trash", "stupid veterinarian", "Can you diagnose, you damn gopher", and "Get as far away from me as possible" appeared in his mouth one after another, but he swallowed them back.
Because he suddenly remembered something. The person in front of him was not some ordinary veterinarian, but Velenlingert.
The first time this man appeared on Ferdinand's farm, he determined that Ferdinand's cows were infected with parasites.
Ferdinand once confronted him head-on, and as a result, the farm was closed for a month and the Ministry of Agriculture killed three of its most valuable cows.
This man also appeared at Stewart's chicken farm and diagnosed that there was a problem with the feed on the farm and all the chickens were suffering from gout and fatty liver.
Stewart tried to argue his case, but was forced to close his chicken farm by the Ministry of Agriculture. Not only did he have to pay a large sum of money, he was also sent to jail for a week.
This man was also the culprit who caused 80% of the chicken vendors in the North Market of Denham Town to close down for rectification. He also sent all the parrot-raising family in the town to the hospital, and of course the parrot did not escape death.
Robinson began to tremble, starting from his feet and moving to the top of his head as if he had been electrocuted.
This isn't some veterinarian! This is a fucking plague bringer, hell's helper, the devil's advocate!
"I... haven't yet," the poor farmer staggered to his feet and pleaded, as if to surrender to some mysterious force. "Sir, can you help me take a look? If this is really the virus you mentioned, is there any hope of treatment?"
"If it's discovered earlier, perhaps some of those who haven't been infected yet could have been saved." Lin Weilun didn't know what Robinson was thinking. He looked at the other man's unpredictable eyes and said calmly, "Of course, the prerequisite is that the bill is paid first."
Then he handed over the bills for last month and the month before that. "If it were me, I could tell which of your geese are sick and which are healthy in just three minutes. The rest of the time could be used for treatment."
"But if you put someone else in their place, I mean the Ministry of Agriculture, just the blood drawing, sending the sample to the laboratory, queuing for testing, and quarantine and screening..."
"It's you, sir!" Robinson grabbed the bill, the cold wind blowing him into a sweat. "No, don't tell the Ministry of Agriculture! Don't! I, all my family's property is here! You can ask for anything! If the money is not enough, I will... I will..."
Under the glaring sunlight, Lin Weilun curved his lips and continued, "Use something else to offset it?"
"What?" Robinson swallowed and asked hurriedly, "What do you want?"
Lin Weilun slowly smiled but did not answer. He put on rubber gloves and a mask and began to check the health of the geese one by one.
During this period, he asked Robinson to clean out an absolutely clean warehouse and make sure to disinfect it.
"Because there is currently no particularly effective antiviral drug for geese," he said softly, "if there are any that have not yet been infected, they must be removed as soon as possible. The rest will be left to God's will."
Robinson's legs went weak after hearing this, but he and his wife still busied themselves going back and forth.
During this time, he also diligently handed the veterinarian the teapot of broth that his wife had just warmed up. A large rusty teapot was filled with boiling animal offal, bones and fat, and the steaming heat emitted the cheapest smell of oil.
Lin Weilun took a look and thought the host was offering him a pot of dark beer to soak up the cigarette ashes.
“….No, thank you, I’m not very hungry.”
Robinson's wife clutched her apron in embarrassment and asked cautiously, "How about fried potatoes and peel soup?"
Lin Weilun was too familiar with the look on the woman's face. If the other party didn't accept it, she would fall into a huge expression of self-doubt, self-blame and regret...
He nodded, "Okay, thank you for the trouble."
The woman finally breathed a sigh of relief, lifted her skirt and went to the kitchen.
Fried potatoes are just salt sprinkled on potato cubes. They are salty and dry. After taking a bite, it feels like the coarse salt has rubbed your throat.
But the fruit peel soup was surprisingly delicious.
The hostess used the simplest orange peel and onion, and perhaps because of the guests, she also added a little bit of clover nectar. The taste was fragrant and sweet, and it warmed the empty stomach very well.
A simple breakfast seemed to make Robinson completely relieved, and the expression on his face was not so stiff anymore.
But he was indeed lucky.
No, it should be said that his attentiveness and responsibility saved himself.
Because the measures were taken in a timely manner. When Robinson found that something was wrong with the geese, he immediately isolated the problematic geese, which resulted in the virus being intercepted by veterinarians before it spread widely.
An hour and a half later, he had rescued nearly two-thirds of the geese in his goose house.
This means that it will only take two or three weeks for him to make up for his losses.
A blessing in disguise!
As for the others who were diagnosed with the infection, Mr. Lingert showed him the buttocks, throats and legs of each goose, and surprisingly, they all had problems.
Robinson was convinced. "You're truly amazing... But I have a question," he pointed at the two that had been separated and asked, "Excuse me, sir, what's the question?"
"Oh," Lin Weilun said lightly without raising his head, "These two are your 'bills'."
bill?
Robinson was stunned for a moment before he realized what the veterinarian meant.
In a trance, Ferdinand's words cursing the veterinarian in the tavern suddenly echoed in his mind.
"That's the most evil-minded guy in the world! Not only does he charge exorbitant medical fees, but he also eats the livestock he takes away! Eat them!"
"We should rise up and fight! Drive these hungry ghosts out of Denham!"
The farmer's heart was in a pounding state.
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