Warring States Survival Guide
Chapter 195 - 134: Dining as a Guest

Chapter 195: Chapter 134: Dining as a Guest

The Stone Bodhisattva followed Seven all the way to her home, but her mother, Chi, wasn’t there. He didn’t mind, just found a spot and sat down, glancing around at the shabby little wooden house. He guessed it was built by the labor team—it was just the kind he used to put together when he first arrived in Wanjin. These simple houses only served for basic resettlement; if you wanted a better life, you had to apply for a plot of land with merit or money and build your own place.

Seven fetched water for Stone Bodhisattva and explained, "My mom’s at work. She should be back soon, Brother Bodhisattva, just wait a bit."

"All right!" Stone Bodhisattva took the water and started drinking, then casually asked, "Which workshop is your mom at now?"

"My mom is watching the pond for the dried algae workshop. She hasn’t actually entered the workshop yet." Seven spoke while grabbing a bowl of dark greenish-brown dried algae powder, eagerly asking, "It’s salty, really tasty! Do you want some, Brother Bodhisattva?"

Stone Bodhisattva recognized it at a glance—this wretched stuff was something he ate every few days back in the army, and it was even a staple ration during training or on marches. Forced to eat it daily, he’d long ago lost interest—algae powder was for protein. With the animal husbandry of this era, a few hundred soldiers training every day would polish off all of Wanjin’s livestock in less than a month. Harano couldn’t supply that much meat, and nobody could afford it. But you couldn’t deny the troops protein—training as hard as they did, they’d pee blood otherwise.

So he’d had to rack his brains, hunting down anything that could supply protein and had to be dirt cheap to avoid heavy military expenses. In the end, after lots of pondering, he’d set his sights on the ancient overlord: algae.

Algae are natural protein concentrators. Whether river or sea algae, like the well-known spirulina, protein content can hit 50%. Algae in this era were worth nothing; they were easy to gather—just scoop from the sea, or dig a small pond on land, toss in some edible wild algae, and it’d grow on its own with no need to fuss over it.

Thanks to these processed algae, plus huge quantities of cheap fish bought from islanders and some bean products, the new Wanjin army could get enough protein to support their intense training. They didn’t face the common problem in other armies of the time, where a day of drills meant a week of rest.

Now Seven’s mother, Chi, was in charge of looking after the algae ponds—hardly heavy labor, just needed patience, very suitable for women. The wages weren’t great, but at least it guaranteed survival.

Stone Bodhisattva, utterly sick of algae powder (which tasted more like medicine to him), just refused Seven’s generous offer, and sat quietly waiting. After a while, he noticed a dip in the floor; looking up along it, he suspected the roof might leak in the rain. He called Seven over to ask about it, rolled up his sleeves, and went up to fix the roof—a mass-produced resettlement house by the labor team inevitably came with little flaws here and there.

He’d built such houses before—he was a skilled hand. In no time, the roof was patched. No sooner did he climb down than he heard someone outside hawking firewood. He checked the woodpile and saw there wasn’t much left, so he rushed out and stopped the firewood seller, asked about the price, and found that pre-split wood was expensive while large chunks were dirt cheap—just leftover bits from the labor team’s mass logging and charcoal operations, perfect for residents to use as fuel, and a way to get currency back into circulation.

Of course, if people wanted to burn charcoal, they could do that, too—just that it was really expensive, as most of the charcoal was earmarked for the military: for smelting iron and forging weapons.

Stone Bodhisattva, who came off a bit slow-witted in daily life (like he’d baked his brain as a child), was in fact very good at managing things. After a quick reckoning, not wanting the labor team to earn on firewood splitting, he just bought a whole heap of wood chunks, went to the general store, bought an axe, spat in his palm, and started splitting logs in the courtyard—crack, crack.

All his time in the new army had built him a strong physique, and he’d often been double-teamed in training by pots, pans, and the military police—he was good at repetitive chores. Focusing intently, wood chips flying, he soon piled up a little wall of firewood. Then he realized it wasn’t good to just leave it out like that—he ought to put up a bamboo shed.

Without thinking much, he began fiddling around with the bamboo shed. Meanwhile, Chi had finished checking on her algae pond, turned in the day’s haul, and headed back to see her daughter. As soon as she got home, she found an unfamiliar man in her courtyard fussing over something. She got a real fright, almost ran straight out to call the Military Police—a widow always feared being harassed. She was considered pretty for a village woman and had encountered such situations before: men would try to stay, harassing her with all sorts of nonsense. Luckily, Wanjin was strict on order; Military Police doing rounds would respond quickly, beating the troublemaker senseless and hauling him off immediately.

Now she had the habit of running for the Military Police at the slightest sign of trouble. Just as she was preparing to call for help, Seven came running back from outside with a big bundle of straw, cheerful as could be. "Mom, Brother Bodhisattva came by!"

Before she’d finished, the girl was already rattling away, quickly explaining how she’d met the Stone Bodhisattva, brought him home for a meal, and how he’d ended up helping around the house. Only then did Chi take a close look at the unfamiliar man and realize he was that young soldier who’d helped them before. He’d grown a lot taller, had some scars now, his former boyishness faded, now fully a grown man.

Stone Bodhisattva noticed Chi, too. He stared dully at her for a moment and realized she looked different as well—her hair neatly combed, a healthy color in her face, she looked several years younger than before, though her features were pretty much the same.

After a glance, he gave her a sheepish grin, then lowered his head again to tie knots and work on the bamboo shed. Chi, after hesitating, said nothing either, and went straight inside to make buckwheat noodles.

Each busy with their own thing, Seven flitted excitedly in and out, helping first indoors, then outdoors. Finally, when the meal was ready, Chi spoke for the first time: "Um...sir, please eat."

Stone Bodhisattva waved his hands, shyly protesting, "I’m not a sir, I’m not, I’m not even a sergeant now!"

Chi was taken aback, not sure what to say. Last time she’d met Stone Bodhisattva, he was still a boy. At the time, she’d thought her fate hopeless, about to be taken away and sold. She’d cried for days, even considered running off with her daughter to die together. She’d barely spoken to her young helper, actually—they weren’t close at all.

Only after settling in Wanjin did she realize she’d worried too much. Life here was safe and there was enough to eat, far better than the village. That’s when she really began to feel grateful to the Stone Bodhisattva for putting her and her daughter on that boat, for stopping her several times from harming herself, and she resolved to thank him personally if they ever met again. She hadn’t expected her daughter to bring him home just like that...

The two sat there in awkward silence. It was Seven who broke the ice, glancing between them then grabbing Stone Bodhisattva by the arm: "Brother Bodhisattva, didn’t you say you wanted to eat buckwheat noodles? Mom made them, come and eat!"

"Okay, okay!" Stone Bodhisattva followed Seven inside and sat by the fire pit.

Chi hurried in after him, served him a bowl of noodles, and Stone Bodhisattva, bashfully thanking her, started slurping noodles. Two bites and the bowl was clean.

Chi quickly got him another helping and told her daughter to eat as well.

Stone Bodhisattva ate four bowls in quick succession before slowing down, habitually glancing left and right to see if anyone else had something tasty they were saving he could swipe a bite of. At that moment, Chi hesitated, then quietly said, "Um... let me help you sew your clothes again."

Stone Bodhisattva lifted his right arm to look at his underarm—there was a big tear there from training. Taichiro, the Deputy Small Banner, had patched it up, but Taichiro’s short, stocky fingers were about as nimble as carrots—so the stitches were crooked and sloppy, just enough to pass inspection. He’d tried to hide it, but Chi still saw.

But since she’d seen, he didn’t care. He hesitated a moment, then took off his coat and handed it to her. He was broad and sturdy, and this was his only warm jacket for winter—once off, he was bare-chested, all lean muscle.

Chi blushed a bit, but country folk weren’t fussy about that—plenty wore the same clothes for generations, only the diligent patched them, the lazy let bare skin show. If women had to avoid every possible misunderstanding, they’d never go out.

She just poked up the fire so Stone Bodhisattva wouldn’t catch cold, then fetched her sewing kit and sat down to carefully unpick and restitch his coat.

Seven wasn’t all that interested in buckwheat noodles anymore. She was no longer that scrawny, hungry little girl from months ago, no longer went wild-eyed at the sight of food. Instead, she started pestering Stone Bodhisattva about army life, her voice tinged with envy—after all, the army represented the pinnacle of advancement in Wanjin. Only the smartest and strongest were chosen, and the starting monthly pay was three times an ordinary person’s—she’d heard it so often and couldn’t help being a little starstruck, figuring she’d get some stories to brag about to her friends.

Stone Bodhisattva wasn’t much of a talker, always repeating how they ate well, slept well, got uniforms and monthly pay—the usual. But Seven never tired of asking, even wanted to know who the famous people in the Wanjin Army were, wanting some inside dirt to share.

When the meal was done and his clothes were patched, he put the jacket back on and went out to finish the bamboo shed, working till afternoon before it was finally done. Checking the sky and figuring it was time to leave, he fished out a handful of copper coins and stuffed them into Chi’s hand, grinning sheepishly: "I’m heading back now. Uh... this money’s for you."

Chi promptly tried to push the money back, saying, "No, no, the noodles were my treat—thank you for helping us last time..."

"I was just following orders then, and this isn’t for the noodles. I see you’re short of a lot of things at home—go buy them when you can." Stone Bodhisattva replied, awkward but earnest, and turned to go.

Chi stood there stunned, clutching the coins, only snapping out of it after he’d left. She hurried after him, calling out, but her voice faded the further he went: "Um, next time you have leave, come eat with us again..."

Stone Bodhisattva turned around and gave her a big, simple grin, then just kept walking down the road.