Little Lily, besides being Grace Walker's personal maid, also doubled as a nanny, cook, and housekeeper. In winter, she might even be called upon to warm the bed. Edward Thompson looked at the pitifully small amount of noodles in her bowl and scooped half of his own noodles into hers.

A fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girl was still growing—how could she get by eating so little?

Suddenly, Edward Thompson took away her bowl. The little maid was stunned. “Young master…” she had just started to say, but Edward Thompson had already finished dividing the noodles and placed the bowl back in front of her.

“I’m not hungry, you eat more…” He reached out and ruffled the little maid’s hair. Just as he finished speaking, a strange sound suddenly came from his stomach.

All three of them looked up, giving him odd looks. Edward Thompson couldn’t help but blush. He picked up his bowl and quickly finished the food in it. “I’m full!”

Watching Edward Thompson leave in slight embarrassment, Grace Walker gazed after him for a long time, something new and indescribable appearing in her beautiful eyes.

Beside her, Emily Walker curled her lips. Seeing the little maid on the verge of tears with emotion, her usually indifferent and pretty face unconsciously softened into a gentle curve.

……

……

The maid named Little Lily stared with wide eyes at the young master, who had disappeared into the kitchen after dinner and seemed busy with something. She felt a bit uneasy.

In her young mind, the young master was a scholar, and scholars should stay far away from the kitchen—a place only suitable for women. Of course, what the little maid feared most was the young master wasting food. There wasn’t much grain at home to begin with, and they couldn’t afford any waste.

Fortunately, as she peeked from the doorway, she didn’t see the young master doing anything else, and her heart eased a little. Just then, Edward Thompson came out of the kitchen.

Edward Thompson sat on a large stone in front of the door, resting his chin in one hand, staring blankly at the sky.

He hadn’t expected that in such a large mountain stronghold, even the chief’s family lived in such poverty. The others must be living similarly, or perhaps even worse.

But thinking about it, it wasn’t surprising. They had given up being bandits to become honest folk. In the past, if they lacked something, they could just rob for it. Now, they had to rely on themselves. In times like these, ordinary people who survived solely by farming could only hope to scrape by without starving—that was already their highest aspiration.

“Pah!”

Just as Edward Thompson was pondering how to improve their current life—at the very least, to reach a level where they didn’t have to worry about food and clothing—a glob of thick phlegm suddenly flew at him from the side. If he hadn’t dodged quickly, that disgusting thing would have landed right on him.

He turned his head sharply and saw the middle-aged woman he’d met once before standing nearby, looking at him with disdain. She seemed a bit disappointed that Edward Thompson had dodged her attack, her nearly perfectly round face showing a hint of regret.

Hmph!

The middle-aged woman was just passing by. After a cold snort, she twisted her barrel-shaped waist and walked into the house next door.

Watching the woman with the bucket waist walk away, Edward Thompson's expression grew unpleasant.

He certainly had no good impression of this spherical woman who had her eyes on his wife. Now, seeing that he hadn’t provoked her, she actually tried to get back at him. No man could tolerate such humiliation.

Bang!

Not far away, the woman came out of her house, grabbed a handful of wheat grains, and threw them into the yard, cursing as she did so.

“Last year’s lousy harvest—no one has any extra food! If you hens don’t start laying eggs, I’ll slaughter every one of you!”

After the woman went back inside, Edward Thompson looked at the free-range chickens in front of her house, and a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“Little Lily, do we have any sewing thread at home? Bring me some.”

The little maid was startled, then replied softly, “Yes… we do.”

A quarter of an hour later…

Several domesticated hens waddled about, pecking at the ground for stray wheat grains. Perhaps a few of them were cursing their stingy owner in their hearts—expecting eggs without feeding the chickens, did she think eggs just appeared out of thin air?

Suddenly, a white dough ball flew out from a corner, rolled a few times on the ground, and finally came to a stop.

The biggest and strongest hen’s tiny eyes suddenly lit up. She looked around and, seeing that none of her companions had noticed, was secretly delighted. Pretending nothing was amiss, she strolled over with small, unhurried steps…

Just as she reached the dough ball and was about to peck at it, the dough suddenly rolled forward a bit.

Caught off guard, she pecked at nothing. She took a few steps forward to peck again, but the dough moved forward once more.

And so, one of Second Aunt’s chickens, lured by a small dough ball, finally set foot on the road of no return for chickens…

A mountain stream behind the stronghold.