Evade The Hero and Flee!

Chapter 120

Chapter 120

14. To the world of farming! (2)

It is commonly said that autumn is the season to read.

Not too hot, and not too cold.Yôur favorite novels at

Is it because its good to read outdoors in the cool autumn wind?

But autumn is also known as the season of gluttony.

Is it called that because there are many festivals in autumn that even commoners can attend?

Or does it signify gluttony as the reward for our hard work in the summer heat?

I can answer that.

Because of one simple reason.

The reason why autumn is the season to read.

The reason why autumn is the season of gluttony.

Its because!

Autumn is harvest season!

Sheeson!

At my words, Ellis who had been harvesting potatoes with dextrous flicks of her wrists suddenly jumped up and shouted with me.

Although she was copying the metal bat, its fine this time because shes cute!

Yes, thats how it is. Everything that happens in autumn is because it is related to this harvest.

Harvest time, best time!

Ellis made a noise of exertion as she stretched out her spine, and went back to her potatoes.

Even though shes a child, Ellis is already a veteran farmer!

The moment she tapped the potatoes with her hoe, they seemingly crawled out of the garden and into her hands on their own.

And of you want to do something, you need to fill your belly first. In the spring you need to sow the seeds, and the summer you have to wage war on the weeds. So there is no time to read books or to eat!

I hate weeds

Ellis pouted as she channeled her resentment for weeds into her hoe.

The speed which potatoes came out got faster.

Weeds are powerful.

To a beginner farmer, it looks like ordinary grass, but weeds stick their heads out from absolutely everywhere.

Day, after day, after day, after day.

Every time their heads were taken and uprooted whole, but the next day they would show themselves in a different area.

There is no end to the war against weeds.

They appear anywhere, and exist anywhere.

The only time the war ever ends is during winter where nothing happens.

And thats not even a permanent end either.

Its simply a ceasefire until next year!

Wait, thats not the point.

Dad, your hands are slow. Its fine to talk, but keep working!

I was being scolded by my daughter who had at some point dug up more potatoes than I had.

You can only ever get things done on a full stomach.

Mm, being full is good.

Reading is only possible with food. They say books are food for the mind, but they do not fill the belly.

Books are boring. Farming is more fun!

Oho, how adorable as a farmers daughter.

But in order for it to be called the season of gluttony, there needs to be things to eat. If youre hungry, you are not being a glutton, but simply looking for something to eat.

And so autumn is the season of harvest! Is what youre saying, Dad?

Yes I am!

My little girl lifted her head up.

In her eyes were traces of disdain.

Then get to work.

My daughter pointed once at the potatoes she dug up, then once at the potatoes I had dug up.

There was almost twice as many in her pile compared to mine.

Sorry.

You said that last time as well?

Ill do my best!

She sighed like a farmer, acting unlike her age.

Dad was the one who said that we needed to harvest at least half in order for there to be no problems with our plans.

Yes!

The speed of the hoe in my hand intensified.

We need to finished the potatoes within the week, and harvest the corn and wheat as well.

Ye, yes we do!

I worked hard even while I was talking with Dad so why did Dad not do any work while you talked?

Ill do my best!

This is not me being scolded by my daughter.

This is simply one farmer criticizing another.

Digging up potatoes even while saying so, her talents as a farmer that already surpassed me almost made me fear for the future.

Lets get on with it!

Yes!

Thump! Thump!

The sound of hoes hitting the ground echoed throughout the field with no more talking.

Yes, this is the harvest season.

But soon the winter, the season of cold will be upon us.

Winter is cold. I dont wanna go out.

In order to not go out one must prepare firewood and food in advance.

Autumn is the harvest season, but there are so many things that need to be prepared it wouldnt be strange to call it the season of preparation.

To think Id have to prepare for winter here, too.

I thought Id never have to prepare for winter after I was discharged from the military.

Fried chicken is the strongest. Its invincible.

Its the strongest food that nothing else in the world can beat.

Its unimaginable crispiness cant even remotely be compared to ordinary roast chicken.

And then, the moment I reach the chicken meat hidden underneath the fried coating, Im hit with an unimaginably powerful feeling.

Even more than when Im harvesting the crops I worked so hard to grow!

And then when Dads special homemade sauce is added on top, I can no longer escape the magic food that is fried chicken.

Dads chicken is perfect.

Its perfect as it is.

But when Dads sauce is added to that perfect food, it turns it to something completely different.

The fried chicken is already perfect as it is.

But its still perfect when the sauce does a 180 twist on its taste.

Meaning, a number of perfect dishes the same as the number of sauces can be created.

Dads fried chicken is a food that I will never get bored of, that will always stay delicious even if I eat it every day!

Hooray for fried chicken!

It, it must be really delicious.

Ellis, drool.

Big sis whispered into my ear as chicken auntie said so.

Schlurrp.

The drool that had gathered in my mouth had started dripping out without me even noticing.

Thankfully it seemed that Dad hadnt noticed because he was busy picking out what chickens to buy.

Thanks, sis.

What, its nothing.

Dads kind but hes very very strict when hes scolding me.

I know why hes scolding me but not being scolded is still the best.

Angry dad is scary!

This, this and this one should be good. Ah, this one, too.

Four in total.

Because chickens should always be!One chicken per person!

Big sis and I shouted naturally to aunties words.

Chicken should always be one chicken per person!

Fried, roasted, boiled, everyone should have one chicken per person.

Then fights wont break out.

Everyone wants drumsticks, but no one wants the neck.

But if you cook only one chicken, then someone gets the legs, and others get the neck or breast.

Of course chicken breast is tasty, too.

Its easy to eat because theres no bones, either.

But theres a massive world of difference between it and the legs or wings.

Thats why fights break out.

Chicken is that important of a food!

But if its one chicken per person, every problem can be solved.

Everyone can peacefully enjoy their chicken.

So thats why four!

So that one chicken per person can still happen even if the grandpa next door steals one!

The grandpa that lives next door comes to our house quite often.

And every time he does he steals away some of Dads cooking, which is precious to us.

Even if I know that Dads cooking is so good it cant be helped, that doesnt stop us looking poorly at the always-kind grandpa.

Ruining the one chicken per person is something we cant forgive even grandpa next door for.

Aha, so does old man Steon also eat with you?

Grandpa comes over like a ghost whenever Dad makes fried chicken for us.

Thats nice, if even Steon comes over for it then Ill also have to give it a try some time.

Cockiooo!

The chicken screamed as it was killed by the smiling auntie.

There was no such thing as mercy in aunties hands which cut off the chickens head in a single strike.

Her skills as she beheaded the chicken and plucked out its feathers was something I couldnt ever hope to replicate myself.

If I dreamed of being a pro farmer, then auntie was already a pro chicken butcher no, even beyond the realm of a simple professional!

Mister Mellens children are as amazing as ever. Most children feel sorry for the chicken when they see it die

The children know the taste of chicken far too well for that.

Hohoho. Although that does make them very good customers for me selling chickens.

Dad seemed mildly embarrased, but Dad was the one who made me this way.

So everything is Dads fault!

Dad was the angelic devil who introduced big sis and I to the magic of chicken!

Here we are, four chickens, plucked and gutted.

Here you are.

Dad handed over the money to auntie.

Auntie took the money and waved at us as we left.

And now, that chicken was now ours.

Our dinner, fried chicken!

Tonights dinner is fried chicken!

Uwoooooo!

Chicken, our lord and saviour fried chicken!

Big sis and I both let out shouts of joy at Dads words.

As our reward for working hard today, we obtained chicken for tonights dinner!

Right now Im extremely happy!

Really!