Suddenly, as if realizing something, Edward Thompson turned his head to look in the direction Bennett had left, deep in thought.

Jack Walker wasn’t around, and neither was Bennett...

Hmm, decision made—tonight there will be an extra meal!

Still at the familiar little stream behind the village, Edward Thompson took out a pair of scissors he had long prepared from a cloth bag, skillfully slaughtered the chicken, plucked its feathers, opened it up, and cleaned out some useless organs...

After finishing all the work, he suddenly sensed something, whipped his head around, and saw a delicate figure standing not far behind him on a large rock, arms crossed, looking at him with a teasing expression.

Edward Thompson froze, and the scissors in his hand fell to the ground.

“What a coincidence...” he greeted awkwardly.

Getting caught stealing a chicken was obviously not something to be proud of.

Especially since the person who saw him was, in name, his sister-in-law. Even with Edward Thompson’s thick skin, he couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed.

Emily Walker shot Edward Thompson a faint glance but said nothing. With a light tap of her toes, she floated down from the boulder, her figure quickly disappearing from Edward Thompson’s sight.

Watching her back fade away, Edward Thompson let out a long sigh of relief in his heart.

It seemed this always-cool sister-in-law had no intention of tattling. Thinking further, she was part of the spoils last time too, so there was no reason for her to do something that would harm others without benefiting herself...

With that thought, Edward Thompson relaxed, skillfully wrapped up the prepared chicken, and headed toward the village.

When he reached the door, in the neighboring yard, Jack Walker was crying miserably. This time, Bennett seemed truly angry, planning to give Jack Walker a lesson he’d never forget. The brat’s pitiful wails lasted twice as long as usual.

“What a sin...”

Edward Thompson shook his head and stepped into his own yard.

Little Lily was sitting in a daze at the kitchen door. Ever since Edward Thompson forbade her from entering the kitchen, she’d become a bit aimless at mealtimes. Hearing footsteps at the door, she looked up suddenly and saw her young master coming in with a familiar cloth bag. She stood up in surprise and said, “Young master, you found another pheasant!”

Compared to modern times, people’s diets were still very simple—mostly steaming and boiling. After eating so much bland food, Edward Thompson really missed the taste of stir-fried dishes.

But at this time, vegetable oil was very rare—at least, there was none of that stuff in the village, which only the wealthy could afford. As for stir-frying with lard—if you got high blood pressure or high cholesterol, there was no way to treat it here.

Besides, Edward Thompson couldn’t accept that kind of thing psychologically.

A bowl of light chicken noodle soup, with few side ingredients, could still be delicious.

The only thing that spoiled the mood was that, during the meal, Bennett was once again standing at her own door, hands on her hips, going into shrew mode, cursing the thief who stole her hen with the most vicious words.

What Little Lily admired most these days was Edward Thompson’s cooking skills—and, of course, his luck in always bringing back a fat pheasant whenever he went for a walk. Lately, whenever Edward Thompson cooked, the little maid would often watch from the side, fantasizing about the day her own cooking would be as good as his.

Not just his cooking—her young master’s luck was amazing too!

Every time he went out for a walk, he’d find a pheasant. Unlike Second Aunt, who couldn’t even keep track of her own chickens...

...

...

Edward Thompson keenly noticed that in the past few days, the atmosphere in the village seemed different from before.

Emily Walker, who always kept to herself, had started gathering with some girls her age in the village. Little Lily, who usually never left the house, was also coming and going frequently, busy with who knows what.

When Edward Thompson finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity and asked, the little maid looked up, revealing two shallow dimples, and said with a smile, “Young master, did you forget? In a few days, it’ll be the Qiqiao Festival!”

Chapter 15: Qiqiao Festival

The Qiqiao Festival is the Qixi Festival—the day when the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl meet on the Magpie Bridge.

Although the course of history in this world had long since veered off somewhere unknown, some important customs were still almost exactly the same as those in ancient China as Edward Thompson remembered, unchanged in any way.

There was a room in the village specifically for storing books. Of course, calling it a library wasn’t quite accurate—they were all books looted back when Willow Creek was still a real bandit stronghold.

Countless books were scattered in piles around the room. Whenever Edward Thompson was bored, he’d pick one up. In order to figure out just what kind of world this was, Edward Thompson had spent quite a bit of time there lately.

Qiqiao, as the name suggests, is the day when girls and women pray to the Weaver Girl for skillful hands.

Legend has it that the Weaver Girl is a beautiful, clever, and skillful fairy. With her deft hands, she could weave clouds and create the most beautiful brocade in the world. As an outstanding textile worker, she was the role model and object of worship for women in the era of men farming and women weaving.

On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, women on earth would pray to the Weaver Girl for wisdom and skill. Of course, some lovesick girls and married women whose lives weren’t so happy would also pray for her to grant them a beautiful romance.