My Anime Shopping Tree & My Cold Prodigy Wife!
Episode : 142

Chapter: 283

Borin was practically dancing a jig, his unruly red hair looking even more chaotic than usual. Lyra was staring at the vat with a rare, almost awestruck, expression, her usual pragmatism momentarily forgotten. And Alaric… Alaric, the quiet perfectionist, was holding a small, freshly cut, semi-cured bar in his hand, his eyes wide behind his spectacles, looking at it with the kind of reverent, tearful awe usually reserved for the birth of a firstborn child or a perfectly balanced chemical equation.

“What is this, Borin?” Lloyd asked, his own curiosity piqued, as he approached the vat. The air in the lab smelled wonderful, a subtle, complex fragrance that was more than just rosemary. There was a faint, sweet, nutty undertone.

“It’s perfection, my lord!” Borin declared, beaming. “It’s the Silken Bar! The culmination of our research! The final, glorious answer to your challenge!”

He launched into a rapid-fire, enthusiastic explanation. Following Lloyd’s directive to pursue perfection, the team had been experimenting relentlessly. Lyra had focused on the curing environment, her new system of controlled humidity and airflow already showing results, making the standard bars harder and milder than before. But the true breakthrough had come from Alaric’s meticulous, almost obsessive, oil-blending experiments.

“It was the almond oil, my lord!” Alaric chimed in, his voice trembling with a quiet, academic passion. “As you suspected! Tallow alone is a good base, it creates a hard, long-lasting bar. The olive oil we sourced softens it, adds moisturizing properties. But the almond oil… a trace amount, no more than five percent of the total oil volume… it performs a kind of alchemy all its own!”

He explained that the unique fatty acid profile of the almond oil, when introduced into the saponification process at a precise temperature, acted as a natural super-fatting agent and a catalyst for a finer, creamier crystalline structure in the finished soap. It resulted in a bar that was not just cleansing, but incredibly, almost unnaturally, smooth.

“And the lather!” Borin boomed, grabbing a small, still-soft piece of the new soap and plunging his hands into a nearby water basin. He worked up a foam, and the team gasped. It was different from their standard soap’s lather. It was denser, richer, with smaller, more stable bubbles, clinging to his hands not like foam, but like a thick, silken cream. “It feels like velvet, my lord! Like washing with clouds spun from pure silk!”

Lloyd took the small bar Alaric offered. It felt… different. Smoother, almost slippery to the touch, with a density that spoke of quality. He tried it himself, the silken lather blooming between his palms, the soft, complex scent filling the air. It was a world away from even their successful first batch. This was not just soap. This was a true luxury item, a sensory experience that was utterly, completely, addictively, sublime.

This, he realized, his heart thumping with a sudden, fierce certainty. This is it. This is the product that will complete the System’s task. This is the perfection it was demanding.

A wave of pure, triumphant joy, so potent it was almost overwhelming, surged through him. He looked at his team, at their proud, excited, exhausted faces. Alaric’s precision, Borin’s wild innovation, Lyra’s practical genius, Jasmin’s quiet competence, his own guiding vision… it had all come together to create this. This small, perfect, pearlescent bar of soap.

He felt a surge of gratitude so profound it almost choked him. These people… they weren't just employees. They were his team. His crew. His partners in this bizarre, fragrant, alchemical revolution.

“This…” Lloyd said finally, his voice thick with an emotion he didn’t bother to hide, “is magnificent. It is more than I ever hoped for. You have all… you have all performed a miracle.” He looked at each of them in turn, a wide, genuine, unrestrained grin spreading across his face. “And a miracle of this magnitude… it calls for a celebration.”

He clapped his hands together, his voice booming through the laboratory, filled with a sudden, infectious joy. “Tonight! The entire manufactory! Everyone! We feast! We are closing down production for the evening. I am sending Ken to procure several barrels of the finest ale, a whole roasted boar, and anything else the Head Cook can be persuaded to part with! Tonight, we do not work as colleagues! Tonight, we celebrate as a team! As a family!”

A cheer erupted from Borin. A rare, wide smile bloomed on Lyra’s face. Alaric looked momentarily panicked at the thought of such unstructured social interaction, but then even he managed a small, hesitant smile.

Chapter: 284

The breakthrough was more than just chemical; it was communal. And as Lloyd looked at the happy, excited faces of the people who had helped him build his strange little empire from the ground up, he realized, with a clarity that was as pure and satisfying as the Silken Bar itself, that this feeling, this shared triumph, this sense of camaraderie and creation… it was a reward far greater than any number of System Coins. Though, he thought, a familiar, pragmatic glint returning to his eyes, the thousand coins would still be very, very nice.

---

The Elixir Manufactory, usually a place of focused, industrious humming and the clean, herbaceous scent of rosemary, was transformed. The cavernous main floor of the old grain mill, cleared of its usual workbenches and raw materials, now glowed with the warm, flickering light of a dozen extra torches and a massive, roaring fire in the central hearth, over which a whole, glistening boar turned slowly on a spit, its skin crackling, its aroma filling the air with the promise of a feast.

Long trestle tables, 'borrowed' from the estate's banquet stores, were laden with food: wheels of sharp cheese, baskets of fresh, crusty bread, bowls of roasted root vegetables, and vast platters of honey-cakes and fruit tarts. And, most importantly, two large barrels of the finest, darkest ale from the Ducal cellars, tapped and ready, presided over by a beaming, if slightly intimidated, Ken Park, who had apparently been temporarily reassigned from ‘transcendent bodyguard’ to ‘overpowered but very efficient bartender’.

The entire team was there. Jasmin, her usual forewoman’s seriousness replaced by a shy, happy smile, moved through the crowd, ensuring everyone had a full plate. Martha and Pia, their faces flushed with excitement, laughed at one of Borin’s wild, exaggerated stories. Alaric, clutching a mug of ale as if it were a delicate beaker of a volatile substance, was actually engaged in a quiet, intense conversation with Lyra about the relative merits of different wood types for curing racks. It was a scene of boisterous, chaotic, joyful celebration.

Lloyd moved through the heart of it all, a mug of ale in his hand, a profound sense of pride and contentment warming him more than the fire or the strong drink. He had wanted to reward his team, to celebrate their breakthrough with the Silken Bar. But as he looked around, he realized he had created something more than just a successful product. He had created… this. This strange, eclectic, but undeniably loyal, family.

He shared a drink with Borin, who was now enthusiastically describing his next grand idea: a soap that could be used to write temporary, invisible messages that only appeared when wet. (“Think of the possibilities for espionage, my lord! And for… for surprise party invitations!”)

He listened as Alaric, his usual reserve loosened by a second mug of ale, passionately explained his theory that the precise molecular structure of the almond oil was acting as a ‘crystalline lattice template’ during the final stages of saponification, a concept so advanced and so brilliantly articulated that Lloyd, the engineer, was genuinely fascinated.

He watched as Tisha, who had been invited as the newest, and already indispensable, member of the leadership team, effortlessly charmed the shy Pia into telling a funny story about her hometown, her natural charisma a warm, inclusive force that drew people in.

He found Mei Jing near the hearth, observing the scene with a small, almost invisible, analytical smile. “A wise investment, my lord,” she commented, gesturing with her mug towards the laughing, celebrating team. “Morale is a tangible asset. A loyal, happy workforce is a productive one. This feast will likely increase our production efficiency next week by at least seven percent.”

Lloyd laughed. “Ever the merchant, Mei Jing. Can’t you just enjoy the party?”

“I am,” she replied, her smile widening slightly, a genuine warmth touching her dark eyes. “This is… a very well-run party. The resource allocation is excellent.”

Later, as the evening wore on, the mood grew more relaxed, more intimate. They gathered around the fire, the ale flowing freely, the stories becoming more personal. Lloyd found himself sitting on a rough wooden crate between Jasmin and Tisha, listening, truly listening, for the first time, to their stories.