Chapter 45

Chapter 45

"Are there any crab roe soup dumplings left? I want ten!" The person standing at the takeaway window kept his mouth watering as the aroma wafted through.

"Sorry, but to allow more believers to taste this delicacy, the church limits purchases to three per person. If you wish to buy, drop your coins into the coin slot—three coppers each. If you don’t have a container, you’ll need to pay an additional copper as a deposit for the wooden box, totaling one copper coin. When you return next time, bring the box back, and that copper will be refunded." Jie An pressed down on the bell, signaling the person to hurry up and decide.

"Fine, three it is." Woller wanted to argue, but the people behind him were urging him on. In a fluster, he dug out a copper coin and tossed it in.

His master had originally planned to come here for supplies, but on the way, he overheard merchants raving about crab roe soup dumplings. Though he had no idea what they were, the descriptions made them sound incredibly delicious. Tied up with work, his master had missed the dumpling sales for two days straight. So last night, he sent Woller to line up early, determined to have the dumplings on the table as soon as possible.

Woller thought he had arrived "early," but to his surprise, others had been lining up since midnight. Counting the dozen or so people ahead of him, his stomach dropped, fearing they might buy out all the dumplings.

Whatever, at least he’d get something. Three would be enough to fulfill his duty.

Dongmi checked the copper coin that rolled out of the money tube and, confirming it was correct, took out a wooden box from below and placed it on the counter.

Jie An picked up the box, quickly grabbed three oil-paper-wrapped dumplings from the steamer, placed them inside, and snapped the wooden lid shut. He then slid it through the wide slot under the window onto the serving counter for the customer to take.

Holding the heavy box of crab roe soup dumplings carefully, Woller hurried back to the inn.

He didn’t dare run—the gossamer-thin wrappers looked like they would tear at the slightest jostle. Better to be careful.

When Woller placed the box in front of his master, his pulse kept racing—instead, it raced even faster. He had no clue if the dumplings were still intact!

"Open it. I heard you’re supposed to drink the soup first. I wonder how it compares to the lamb broth I had last night." Woller’s master stared hungrily at the box with anticipation. If not for his noble status and the need to keep up appearances, he would’ve torn into it himself by now.

Woller’s heart skipped a beat. Silently, he prayed the dumpling skins hadn’t broken—otherwise, his master’s dream of sipping the soup would remain just that.

Carefully, he lifted the lid and unwrapped one of the knotted oil-paper bundles. Seeing the plump, intact dumpling, his nerves finally eased.

"Master, here’s the straw for drinking the soup. Please enjoy." Woller grabbed the straw inside the box, gently pierced the dumpling, and invited his master to taste it.

Taking a sip from Woller’s hand, his master’s eyes instantly lit up. He waved Woller aside and took the straw himself, sucking up every last bit.

By the time all three dumplings were gone, he was left craving more. The soup’s richness exceeded his expectations, the thin yet resilient skin soaked in broth was exceptionally flavorful, and the tiny dab of crab roe on top was the best part.

Ah, three dumplings seemed like a lot—why were they gone before he’d had his fill?

He ordered Woller to queue up again. Though Woller bowed his head in agreement, he knew the line would be too long by the time he returned—there’d be nothing left. Still, standing in line was far more relaxing than being bossed around by his master.

Besides, this city was unlike any he’d visited before. Amid the lively, joyful atmosphere, watching the bustling crowd, he felt his own mood lifting.

Woller’s master wasn’t the only one obsessed with crab roe soup dumplings. Some recognized the ingredients as related to the crab, but they couldn’t fathom how such a foul-smelling creature could be transformed into such a delicacy.

Just when they assumed the church wouldn’t enlighten them, they learned the true way to prepare crab at a thanksgiving banquet.

Oh, by then, the ugly critter wasn’t called "black pincher" anymore—it was now "crab," a name that sounded plump and delicious.

"What... what is this?" The nobles stared at the large red crabs on their tables, utterly clueless how to proceed. The church had been collecting crabs lately, so they’d seen the creatures before—but the dingy, greenish horrors bore no resemblance to the festive red delicacies before them.

"The divine calls this ‘crab,’ an exceptionally delicious food. However, believers among you who cannot consume seafood may not partake." As a former noble himself, Kane had been entrusted by Ning Chan with the important task of demonstrating the high-class way to eat crab.

Having mastered the "crab eight tools" after feasting on crab for weeks, Kane gladly accepted the mission.

He’d make sure the crabs they’d been collecting would sell for a fortune among nobles.

For a while, the church had been selling crab roe xiaolongbao—a labor-intensive delicacy whose recipe was difficult to replicate.

Once large crabs became scarce and few could be caught for sale, Ning Chan began preparing to sell whole crabs.

Kane watched the clueless nobles struggling with the crabs and opened a wooden box beside him. "These are the tools used by the gods when eating crabs. They make handling these creatures much easier."

To empty the nobles' coffers, these boxes containing the "Crab Eight-Piece Set" were meticulously carved and lined with lambskin.

The soft white fur, paired with the golden tools, instantly matched their elevated status.

As their gazes locked onto the exquisite golden utensils, Kane leisurely picked up one piece, raising it slightly as if contemplating whether it should be used first.

Ning Chan, growing uneasy, sneaked over and peeked from behind a pillar, only to see the nobles inspecting the crab tools one by one as if appraising fine art.

Ning Chan thought: *Facepalm.jpg*

Aren’t they supposed to be eating crabs? Why are they obsessing over scissors and pliers? Have they never seen gold tools before? Unlikely—these were wealthy people, some of whom probably even had gilded furnishings.

Besides, these weren’t even pure gold. For added durability, Ning Chan had instructed the craftsmen to mix in other metals.

Was Little Kane failing to steer the situation, getting swept up in their distraction?

Just as Ning Chan debated stepping in to salvage the situation, Kane tapped the crab shell with his tool, emitting a crisp *tink*.

"Guess how this is used," Kane said, holding a small hammer as if ready to flatten the crab into a pancake.

Those nearby tentatively suggested cracking the shell along the edge.

Kane shook his head and gestured to the remaining tools. "If we smash it, what would be the point of these other tools? Would the gods eat so crudely? Of course not. After extracting the meat, they could even restore the shell to its original form. While we can’t achieve that, maintaining its intact appearance would at least honor your noble status, wouldn’t it?"

The nobles nodded eagerly. Naturally, they wanted to emulate the gods. If this could elevate their prestige, it would be another source of bragging rights among their circles.

Seeing their earnestness, Kane demonstrated the use of the Crab Eight-Piece Set.

Born into royalty, he exuded effortless grace—his graceful movements made it seem less like he was disassembling a crab and more like he was painting a masterpiece.

The nobles, who had initially dismissed Kane, now regarded him with less condescension.

The boy’s confident, proud gaze and the noble air in his every gesture outclassed even their own children. They wondered what lineage could produce such poise.

Kane resembled his mother, who, after losing an eight-month-old child when he was three, had declined in health and spirit. He had spent most of those years by her side, rarely seen in noble circles.

Years later, these nobles didn’t recognize him as their prince.

Their focus now was entirely on mastering the technique. Such intricate techniques, they believed, were reserved for nobility like themselves.

Watching Kane meticulously extract the crab meat and roe before reassembling the shell into its "original" form, they watched hungrily, eager to learn.

But would Kane teach them step-by-step? Of course not. After dismantling two more crabs at a leisurely pace, he passed the spotlight to them. "As this is a divine technique, it tests one’s insight. I trust that with your noble status, keen minds, and refined manners, you’ll quickly grasp how to use these tools."

Under Kane’s "encouraging" gaze, they bit back their pleas for help. If they couldn’t learn, wouldn’t that imply they lacked nobility, intelligence, or grace?

Unthinkable. The shame would be unbearable. They had to master these tools at once.

So, did they need to buy the Crab Eight-Piece Set? Absolutely—and only the noble gold version. Silver or iron tools were beneath them.

Did they need to buy large crabs? Without question. Smaller ones were impractical for practice, and given their status, only the finest ingredients could grace their tables.

With the nearby crab supply monopolized by the church, they had no choice but to pay exorbitant prices. Distant crabs might exist, but by the time they arrived, they’d be spoiled and inedible.

Ning Chan, having fleeced the nobility just as thoroughly as the crab hunters had escaped poverty, gazed at the replenished storerooms with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, the nearest major church, unsettled by these developments, was growing restless.