Chapter Seventeen: A Full Meal

“All of this is food?!” Olina’s beautiful face was filled with disbelief and shock.

She had worn this expression countless times today. After witnessing the steel beasts, she'd thought herself immune to further surprises. But now, gazing at the bulging sacks carried within the belly of those beasts, she saw the rice—plain, tasteless on its own, but surprisingly delicious when paired with vegetables, and remarkably filling. There was enough rice to fill an entire house!

“This is only a tiny fraction, less than one-thousandth,” Qin Le said, pointing to a row of heavy military trucks before them. “All of these are loaded with rice.”

“What?!” Olina stepped back twice in succession. “The bellies of these beasts are packed entirely with food!”

“That’s right.” Qin Le nodded.

At that moment, soldiers of the field camp began opening the rear doors, unloading sack after sack of food from the trucks.

What followed was Olina running about like a jubilant golden retriever, inspecting, touching, and grinning at every truck carrying food. Her smile never left her lips.

“Wait, I’ll go find people to help move things,” Olina said to Qin Le after she’d looked over every truck, then dashed off in a flash.

“That fool.” Aimeya rolled her eyes at Olina, utterly speechless, then gazed at the mountain of food before her with a sigh. “You high humans truly live up to the legends: paving your lands with gold, drinking from glass chalices, treating food like wild grass, feasting upon all things under heaven.”

When she first heard such tales, Aimeya had refused to believe them. Who could possibly pave their floors with gold, use crystal goblets, and treat precious food as mere weeds? Surely it was just tall tales—if high humans were truly so mighty, how could they have perished?

Yet today, she saw it with her own eyes: mountains of food, the kind only found in the mightiest empires. The great nobles might possess even more, but they would never share it with commoners.

Commoners were condemned to chew hard, foul black bread laced with pebbles, never allowed to taste food as white as jade. These dark-haired humans, however, offered their bounty to the common folk—an inconceivable act.

Aimeya turned, her emerald eyes fixed intently on Qin Le. “Qin Le, do you like Olina? I can’t think of any other reason why you’d offer so much precious food to pay for that fool’s foolish antics.”

Olina was, in Aimeya’s mind, a hopeless fool since the first day they met in the capital. If she were smarter, they wouldn’t be living in a dilapidated castle with nothing to their names.

Qin Le shook his head without hesitation. “No, I’m not helping these commoners for any one person, nor out of personal affection. I do it for the benefit of the Republic.”

“For the Republic’s benefit? What possible benefit could these talentless commoners, as worthless as wild grass, offer?” Aimeya’s disbelief was written across her face.

To her, the only use for commoners was to plant crops and bear children, hoping that by chance some might be born with talent—otherwise, they served no purpose at all.

Qin Le smiled faintly. “It’s hard to explain now, but you’ll see, in time, the strength of the masses. Besides, to us, this food is nothing.”

Modern industry demands vast labor forces. In this new world, Xuanlaw must pave roads, build cities, mine ores, and develop industry—all requiring manpower.

The commoners, whom the nobility treat as weeds, are precious labor to Xuanlaw. Xuanlaw need not offer privileges or incentives to win their loyalty; a simple meal suffices. Most commoners, Qin Le believed, would pledge themselves wholeheartedly in exchange for a full belly.

It may sound immoral, but the current social order’s extreme oppression of commoners played perfectly into Xuanlaw’s hands. The harsher the nobility pressed their subjects, the easier Xuanlaw would gather a vast army of willing workers.

On one side: hunger, cold, and daily fear of starvation. On the other: warmth, food, and freedom from noble tyranny. Any sane person would know which path to take.

Aimeya opened her mouth to retort, but recalling the ruthlessly lavish actions of these people, she ultimately chose silence.

Today, the elven lady learned a simple truth: wealth is truly extraordinary. With it, one can do whatever one desires, as if the world were theirs for the taking.

Someday, she vowed, she too would be rich.

…

Under Olina’s direction, over a thousand subjects carried sack after sack of food from the trucks. Gradually, a scene they had never witnessed unfolded: a mountain of food, like a vision of paradise.

Ragged commoners gathered around the mound, their dust-streaked faces filled with astonishment and excitement. In their dull, weary eyes, a spark of hope appeared.

Some knelt upon the earth, bowing repeatedly to the mountain, murmuring feeble words of praise.

The soldiers, clad in uniforms, looked on in bewilderment. Was it really just a few sacks of rice—was such reverence warranted?

“What are you gawking at? Never seen anyone worship before?” Major Wang Ren of the field camp barked with a laugh.

“Get to work! Mess hall, prepare lunch and make extra. These folks are skin and bones, clearly starving—how else will they work? And bring out the clothes, get ready to distribute them. Having them wear rags is no way to treat people.”

“Yes, sir!” The soldiers sprang into action.

“Mess hall, move! Move quickly! Don’t let the people wait in hunger. Gather all the children in the territory—feed them first.”

“Same for the clothes, give them to the children first, let them wear something decent.”

…

By noon, the sun blazed overhead, the territory bustling with heat and activity.

On the broad plaza, one steel beast after another stood parked, their bellies disgorging mountains of food.

The soldiers swiftly erected stoves—hundreds flaring to life at once. Vegetables and meat sizzled in giant cauldrons, peanut oil, soy sauce, oyster sauce, and other seasonings bursting forth with alluring fragrance.

The air was thick with mouthwatering scents, drawing the commoners to the plaza’s edge, where they watched the mess hall staff and swallowed hard.

It was food they had never seen—pure as snow, and aromas they had never known. The people closed their eyes, savoring the intoxicating fragrance.

Though they couldn’t eat, smelling it was enough to bring them a measure of satisfaction.

“So this is what knights eat—so pretty, it must taste amazing.”

“What else did you expect? You think knights eat the same black bread as we do—the kind you could kill someone with?”

“Heh, I just hope that when we clean up after, we might find some scraps left by the nobles.”

At this, the eyes of the surrounding commoners lit up, faces full of anticipation.

“Mouse, you’re clever.”

The man called Mouse puffed with pride. “Back when I struggled in Daina City, I once helped clean up after the Count. Guess what I found?”

“What did you find?” The others pressed eagerly.

“Half a piece of white bread!” Mouse lifted his chin, holding up a finger. “A whole finger’s length!”

Wow!

The commoners gasped, eyes gleaming with envy at Mouse.

The more astonished and envious they were, the higher Mouse’s chin rose. To them, eating a piece of white bread was a remarkable feat.

Mouse continued, “When we clean up, don’t rush in all at once. Collect any dirt soaked in wine—put it in your mouth later, you might taste something.”

People stared at Mouse in amazement, as if he were a genius.

“Mama, I’m hungry,” a child of seven or eight clung to his mother’s leg, eyes full of longing.

“I want to eat those white things.”

His mother’s haggard face managed a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, soon Her Highness the Princess will give us black bread.”

Just as she finished speaking, a golden-haired girl in ornate armor approached, followed by an elderly woman in a maid’s dress.

The commoners immediately noticed her, gazing with reverence.

“It’s Her Highness.”

Olina stood before the crowd, her smile radiant. “Everyone, let’s go eat.”

A commoner asked timidly, “But Your Highness, it’s not sunset yet.”

In the territory, meals were twice a day: in the morning, black bread and wild vegetable soup; at night, only black bread.

“We’re going to have lunch now—that’s the midday meal,” Olina explained.

“Huh?”

The commoners exchanged puzzled looks. They had never heard of eating at midday.

At that moment, the old maid Dilla stepped forward and said sharply, “Her Highness told you to go—what are you waiting for?”

“Dilla, don’t be like that,” Olina stopped her maid, then turned to the commoners with a warm smile. “Follow me, I’ll take you to a proper meal.”

With curiosity and hope, the people marched towards the place where they had earlier only dreamed and salivated.

“Everyone line up over there—no cutting, no mischief, or I’ll have to punish you,” Olina pointed ahead, where a long table was laid with large iron buckets full of rice and vegetables.

Yet the commoners did not rush forward. Instead, they hesitated, standing still, not daring to take a single step.

Olina raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Are you going to ignore my words?”

A commoner replied timidly, “Your Highness, we’re content with black bread. These precious foods should be reserved for you and the knights.”

“That’s right.”

Though they had discussed how to get at the knights’ leftovers, when offered the coveted food directly, none dared approach.

Because they felt unworthy.

“Go on!” Olina frowned, her tone turning stern.

At last, someone stepped forward, choosing to trust their princess over their fear.

The line formed quickly, orderly and calm. The commoners, ragged though they were, queued up obediently.

The soldiers distributing food were surprised by their discipline.

When the first commoner received a bowl of rice and vegetables in a stainless steel bowl, the fear in the crowd’s eyes vanished, replaced by excitement and elation.

Some even wondered if they were dreaming.

One by one, the commoners cradled their food with both hands, leaving the plaza as if carrying holy relics, not simple meals.

Perhaps, to them, it truly was sacred.

They found places to sit, carefully taking their first bite of hot rice, their first taste of warm vegetables. No one spoke, no one chatted—they ate quietly, savoring the precious meal.

Some ate and wept, pinching their thighs to feel the pain.

“Mama, why are you crying? Is the white food not tasty?” A child paused, rice smeared on his cheeks, looking up.

“It’s delicious,” his mother said softly, wiping her tears.

The child ate a few more mouthfuls, cheeks bulging. “Mama, after this, I won’t ask for more.”

His mother was not cheered by her child’s maturity; instead, her tears flowed more freely.

“I’m sorry, child. Mama is a commoner, I can’t give you more. If you become a knight, you’ll eat this every day.”

“How does one become a knight?” the child asked curiously.

“Next year, when you turn ten, the noble lords will send someone to check.”

“I will become a knight, so Mama can eat the white food every day!”