In order to give the two women a skill to rely on, Edward Carter decided to teach them how to make mutton fat scallion pancakes: “Ladies, you’ve worked hard these past days. Edward Carter is deeply grateful for your care. I have a small craft to share—not something that will make you rich, but enough to ensure you never go hungry. If you open a small shop in the future, it could be a way to make a living. I wonder if you’d be willing to learn?”

Section Eight: Bathing and Food

He looks down on those who kowtow. Edward Carter believes knees are for walking, not for kneeling. Zhang and He, the two women, no longer perform the usual squat greeting, but instead prostrate themselves on the ground, knocking their heads and sobbing. David Bolton is a bit envious and quickly answers on their behalf: “Young master, you are kind-hearted and cannot bear to see the suffering of the poor. The skill you teach must be top-notch. David Bolton thanks you on behalf of the two brothers for passing on your craft.”

It took quite an effort to pull the two women up. Hearing what David Bolton said, they wanted to kowtow again. Edward Carter was getting a headache and chased David Bolton away with a few punches and kicks, then said to the two women, “It’s just some snacks. You saw how I cooked the mutton just now—it’s no different from what others do. But there are some little tricks in between. Watch closely.” As he spoke, he took the freshly cleaned pine stick, peeled off the outer layer, and tossed it into the meat pot, covered it, and continued boiling. He winked at the two women: “Don’t tell anyone. This is your secret, and also the secret to making a good pot of mutton. I won’t explain why—you wouldn’t understand even if I did. Now, let me teach you how to make pancakes.”

He pulled the rested hot-water dough from the wooden tub, kneaded it a few times, rolled it out, sprinkled scallions, rolled it up again, then rolled it out once more—a scallion pancake took shape. He smeared mutton fat on the large stone slab heating over the fire. When blue smoke rose, he laid the pancakes on top. The slab was soon covered with twenty pancakes, and a rich aroma filled the air. All around was silent. Turning his head, he saw Charles Brooks’s huge ox eyes right behind Edward Carter’s head, sniffing and drooling, wishing he could grab one to gnaw on right now. And it wasn’t just him—none of these rascals were working; they’d all gathered around.

Charles Brooks, seeing Edward Carter’s displeased look, swallowed and shooed everyone away: “Get to work, get to work! Young Master Carter is making food to reward everyone, so let’s work harder and get three hundred jin of salt out.” The soldiers chuckled and turned back to work.

As the sun set, the soldiers, exhausted from a day’s labor, rushed to the dining area, only to see six giant wooden tubs lined up in a row. Edward Carter was standing by a tub, stirring the brown liquid inside with a wooden stick. Charles Brooks had a scallion pancake in his mouth and was pouring finely ground mineral powder into another tub.

“Captain, what’s this for? Are you making salt too?”

“Salt my ass. This is for bathing. You’re all filthy as pigs, covered in lice and fleas. You’re lucky you haven’t caught any diseases yet. Listen up—every single one of you has to soak in the tub before you can eat. After that, go wash in the river.”

The soldiers, seeing that they wouldn’t get food without bathing, figured Edward Carter was used to a life of luxury and couldn’t eat without washing, so they didn’t object. Little did they know, from their beards, hair, and collars, little creatures were crawling about, making one’s skin crawl just to look at. Eat? Edward Carter thought, How could I possibly eat like this? If these little creatures were allowed to run rampant, even a minor outbreak could kill a lot of people.

In this era without effective antibiotics, Edward Carter really didn’t want to die young. After discussing with Charles Brooks, he specially used the salt barrels for bathing. As for the idea that bathing could prevent disease, Charles Brooks didn’t really buy it, but for the sake of brotherhood, he let Edward Carter do as he pleased. After all, it was just bathing, not execution.

“Brothers, watch carefully—this concerns your lives. It’s not just making a fuss, nor is it unnecessary. There’s a lot of knowledge behind this, but I won’t explain. You must bathe this way.” With that, Edward Carter, still dressed, was the first to jump in. Truth be told, he’d been infected too.

Charles Brooks jumped into another tub. As brothers, not to mention jumping into a tub, he’d jump into a fire if needed. That’s just how loyal I am, Old Cheng thought.

Edward Carter soaked for a full five minutes, held his breath, blew a bubble underwater, then shivered as he jumped out, lecturing the soldiers: “Everyone must get in and soak for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. Your hair must be soaked too, understand?”

Edward Carter saw that these guys answered half-heartedly, clearly just going through the motions, so he barked sternly: “Don’t think I’m joking. In three days, if anyone still has lice or fleas, for every one found, you’ll get a whipping—no exceptions. I’ve already gotten the captain’s order. Don’t bring trouble on yourselves.”

He ignored them after that. After all, he was the officer. Once they saw the benefits, they’d thank him. Watching them all soak in the strong saltwater, Edward Carter took off running for the river—the saltwater stung his sensitive parts too much. That bastard Charles Brooks had already run off.

The scene by the river was spectacular: three hundred men, each wearing only a newly cut loincloth, squatting by the fire, holding big bowls, eating scallion pancakes and gnawing on mutton. It was a shocking sight. No one spoke; all you could hear was the slurping of soup.