Chương 42: Chapter 1.42: Food for Thought

Ten days later, Favius stood in the workshop courtyard. Beside him, Doroth Cerul was talking to the returned twins, Beren and Veren. The woodworkers had been very happy to return to the estate. The normal work was done in the semi-open workshops. In one corner, two pigs were rooting through one of the trash heaps. Favius refocused on Doroth, who scratched his head again, noticing the boy's attention. The Master of Provisions frowned.

"I must say, I quite like how my hair and I feel after I've washed using the soap. But my scalp's getting dry and itchy." Favius clicked his tongue as the two carpenters repeated the same grumblings. How do I explain this? Favius bit his lip. Probably that the soap is still too alkaline and not as soft as the hair care products of modern-day Earth. He shook his head.

"Don't use soap every day, at least for your hair. Only wash it every few days if it needs washing or you need to be well groomed." The other men nodded and mumbled as Favius continued. Soon they were exchanging comments about grooming and beards, and Favius dropped out of the conversation. He looked over to the side where Urania was furiously scribbling on wax tablets while Caliga was sitting behind her, braiding and re-braiding her hair in various ways. He smiled.

Properly washed hair feels really nice after these last few months, and I'm hardly alone with that opinion. Caliga really loves the soap. She's even tried to braid my hair. He smirked at the memory. Brutus's as well, but given how far she was thrown in the bathhouse, she's not going to try that one again. After their victory over Hesnia, they had experienced a week of busy industry while spending every free minute with their younger siblings.

The new beehives were laden with honey, and Beren, Veren, and the carpenters were busy building more. His survey done, Favius settled his attention on the other project that they had started once Serran had put his foot down on the supplies that the soap making had consumed. Probably better that way. Best to see how people actually react to the soap instead of trying to make unwise amounts. After all… He smirked at the memory of the half-filled storeroom. We've made like, what, 100 kilograms of soap?

That might have been a little bit too enthusiastic. While some of it had been the luxurious variants, most of it was plain soap, the same kind the slaves were currently using to wash their hands and arms. Several prepared cauldrons boiled on fires, while apples, cucumbers, and beans sat on a table in the center of the courtyard. Still surprised how easily they accepted hygiene. Most of the grumbling was actually about the cloth masks, but well, I'd still fail a real hygiene inspection.

Brutus entered the courtyard, exchanged a few words with the girls, and Favius instructed the slaves how precisely he wanted the various fruits cut. As soon as they began their work, Brutus walked over to him.

"So boy, your next experiment?" the man smirked, an odd glitter in his eyes.

"Yes, but this time it is an actual experiment. I have an idea, but…" He shook his head.

"I don't know if it will work here." He emphasized the last word, and Brutus nodded sagely.

"Indeed. So this is not going to bear fruit anytime soon? Are you just trying to find something new after you gave up on your wood pulp papyrus idea?"

"It's important to know when you continue and when you give up," he replied, but inwardly he was frowning. I gave it a final try with the lime ash solution, but still I'm doing something wrong with the paper. The wood filings just don't dissolve properly. I'm going to need to use one of this entity's rewards at some point, so it might as well be for making proper paper for printing. Just to see how they work. Brutus poked him in the shoulder.

"You are thinking too much again. Tell me, what's this entire setup?"

"Well…" Favius pointed over at a collection of sixty thick-necked amphorae.

"We got apples, cucumbers, and beans. Normally they are preserved in wine, brine, and vinegar respectively." He gestured at a similarly large, though somewhat smaller, number of earthen jars containing the substances.

"So we are making batches of ten."

"Why ten?" interrupted Brutus.

"So we can open them in intervals. We wait until most of the food that was preserved using traditional methods around this week has been used, and then we see how much better or…" Favius bit his lip.

"Worse this performs." Brutus nodded slowly.

"And I'm guessing the ones where you're using water instead of the more noble liquids are those control groups you are so fond of talking about." Favius smiled.

"Yes. We're going to compare the traditional method with plainly boiled water and something close to the traditional method with additional boiling. That's going to give me a better overview of what works and if this project is worth pursuing."

"I certainly do hope that this turns out worth pursuing." The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Favius turned around and smiled at Serran. The majordomo approached while they were talking.

"This," he gestured at the setup and especially the amphorae, "is not an unsubstantial investment of resources. If your father wasn't in such a good mood after you banished Hesnia from the estate, I'm not sure this would have been allowed." Favius snorted. The sheer fucking absurdity of this family.

"Well, but he is well disposed, and especially with the party coming up…" Favius shrugged. I'm doing everything to keep him happy. Serran nodded.

"I am still curious to see if your ideas about boiling removing pestilential essences work. The same pestilential essences you claim the soap is banishing." Favius gave the man a tight smile. After the invisible monsters explanation of bacteria had turned into nothing but ammunition for Brutus and his sisters to mock him, he had decided to describe them as pestilential essences that cause illness and rot. I hope that's much more in line with how the locals think about such things.

"Indeed," Favius replied.

"If this is successful, you should get ready to make a lot of money when we can do seasonal arbitrage by selling the goods later than anyone else." Serran nodded.

"Indeed. Selling certain fruit out of season when most other supplies have been spoiled… it shall require some setup. But the profits…" The man's smile was chillingly predatory. While Brutus and Serran fussed over the slaves, Favius studied the process while sitting on the ground. It's not actually that complicated. Heck, my grandmother did this in her kitchen. You cut up the apples, throw them into the wine, get the amphora with wine and apples into a cauldron with boiling water and wait for the stuff to boil.

He looked over at a slave who was pouring a sip of boiling water into an amphora filled with steaming wine and apples. Another one smeared tar onto the clay and pressed a cork into the vessel. That's the only thing I'm worried about. Glass bottles and metal cans seal hermetically. But I don't have any confidence that clay amphorae work the same. Nonetheless… He leaned back and smiled as he studied the bustling courtyard. This is the beginning of industry. The beginning of me changing this world.

He smiled fondly at his sister and the workers he had gotten to know over the last few months. And once some small business ventures here give me money, I can focus on education and trading, because that's where the real money is. Once I am trading, I can go into logistics. A smile spread on his face as his thoughts turned towards the future. With logistics under control, I can approach the real big projects. Steel mills. Sulfuric acid. Wood distilling. He grinned broadly.

Until his reverie was torn apart by a woman's scream. He pushed off the floor and looked around. Not a woman. A girl. Urania. She was writhing on the ground. Caliga had jumped back and was now moving to hold her sister's head to prevent her from banging it on the floor.

"What? What's happening? Did she get poisoned?" He ran over, but Brutus blurred across the courtyard and was instantly by her side. The cultivator shoved his fingers into her mouth, and Favius winced as his sister bit down on the cultivator's hand. The man didn't seem to notice. The fuck is happening? Is— Favius froze. He felt it. Sensed it. The electrostatic tingling. The ozone smell that accompanied all cultivation and spiritual materials. Favius's eyes widened.

He rushed to his younger sister's side and grabbed her flailing arm.

"Good, boy. Everyone, keep her down so she doesn't hurt herself," Brutus snarled, uncaring that the girl had dug her teeth into his fingers. Well, he does have several insights strengthening his body, but still, a human jaw has enough bite force to bite off a finger. Gurgling screams erupted from Urania's throat as she spit blood around the cultivator's hands, and the spicy stench of ozone and electricity grew nauseating. Yet Favius couldn't help himself. This. This is my first time actually seeing it.

When it happened to Caliga, I was not in a sane state of mind, and for myself there was just pain and hands holding me. He observed her closely, even as the electricity stung his hands and charged everyone's hair which, now freshly washed, danced wildly in the air as if they were underwater. A few minutes passed until Urania finally came to.

Brutus had turned her to the side, allowing the blood to drain from her mouth, and after checking the girl's vitals, he took the cup of water that was offered by one of the carpenters and threw it unceremoniously in her face. Urania gave a suffering groan, but Brutus slapped her, not quite gently, on the cheeks.

"Wake up, girl," he said, a low anger in his voice. But before he could continue, Caliga pulled her sister into a sitting position and hugged her.

"You did it. You're a cultivator just like us. I told you you could do it. See?" She smiled broadly at Favius and Brutus.

"It's just that she's not a warrior like all of us." Urania smiled weakly and murmured, as if through a dreamy haze, "I did it. Finally." But her smile fell when she saw Brutus's expression.

"You did something, girl," the cultivator spat out, "something extraordinarily dumb and dangerous."

"Brutus," Caliga hissed, and even Favius was furrowing his brows.

"You should have talked to me about this. Consulted me instead of this childish display of—" He growled out loud, and everyone took a step back from the angry cultivator. A brief flash of killing-intent-laced aura washed over them. Everyone around them flinched and stumbled away with cries of panic. His older sister was the first to raise her voice in the ensuing silence.

"Why are you mean to her?" hissed Caliga, her fists pressed into her waist.

"She just cultivated like you taught us."

"No, she did not cultivate like I taught you. Favius, what did I tell you about me teaching you cultivation?" Favius bit his lower lip, then ventured a guess.

"That we are to follow your instructions and go along with your training?"

"Yes! Yes, precisely," the man said.

"And instead you two girls go cook up some harebrained scheme about gaining an insight without even mentioning it." Tears welled up in Urania's eyes and Caliga took a deep breath, but Favius raised his hand.

"Brutus, can you please explain why this is such a bad thing? After all, she got an insight, right?" Brutus took a deep breath and squeezed his beard in his fist.

"Not all insights and all paths of cultivation are equal." He gestured around at the craftsmen and slaves.

"Most cultivators are cultivating lesser paths. Cultors Artifactum, Agrarum, or Corpium. They craft, tend plants or animals, or merely labor and gain an understanding of it. That is sufficient for an insight." He pointed an accusing finger at Urania.

"The insight a peasant cultivates on accident is in no way comparable to the insights men of virtue and intellect have refined over centuries." Urania's eyes widened in fear.