"Ah?"
Hearing Leah’s bold words, even Leon, a seasoned veteran in such matters, froze. This was only their second eting—wasn’t this moving a little too fast?
"Ah! That’s not what I ant. I’m saying your clothes are wet and dirty. Take them off so I can clean them for you. Just your shirt." Leah quickly realized the ambiguity in her words and rushed to clarify.
"Oh, that’s what you ant. It’s fine. I was going to take a bath when I got back anyway."
Leon didn’t mind at all. One perk of farm life was that he’d gotten used to having dirt on him. That didn’t an he was unhygienic—he still bathed every day—but his tolerance for dirty clothes had definitely increased.
"But it bothers
seeing you like this. It’s not that I dislike you, I just feel uneasy if I don’t do sothing to thank you after you’ve helped
so much," Leah insisted.
"Didn’t you say you’d give
that carving once you finished? Doesn’t that count as thanks?" Leon teased.
"That’s different." Leah said seriously, "Giving you the carving is because you gave
the experience of working with aged hardwood. Washing your clothes is to thank you for helping
bring that piece back."
"This cup of tea is thanks enough." Leon raised the floral tea in his hand. It was sweet, fragrant, and left a lingering floral scent in his nose after drinking. He really liked it.
"That’s basic hospitality for guests, not a gift," Leah emphasized.
"Leah, don’t you think you’re being a bit too serious? We’re friends, aren’t we? Do friends really need to keep score like this? Doesn’t that make it feel more like a transaction?" Leon said, a bit exasperated.
"Ah?" Leah froze, thought it over, and realized she was indeed being stubborn. Flustered, she hurried to explain, "Sorry, sorry, I didn’t an it that way. I just… wanted to do sothing for you."
"If you really want to do sothing for , then show
your carving skills. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can make from that wood." Leon wasn’t at all upset with her. After all, it was far more pleasant to be around soone who knew gratitude than soone who held grudges.
"I will," Leah nodded, relieved to see Leon wasn’t angry with her awkward personality.
Seeing her obvious relief, Leon couldn’t help teasing, "So, when you told
to take off my clothes, it wasn’t just to wash them, right? Didn’t you also want to see what’s underneath?"
"Of course not!" Leah denied quickly, though the blush spreading across her fair cheeks betrayed her.
Leon wasn’t making baseless claims. On the way back carrying the wood, he had noticed Leah sneaking glances at him—especially at his chest, stomach, and arms.
n looked at won’s faces, chests, legs, and hips. Won weren’t so different—aside from the face, the body was also a pri scoring category. Desire was part of human nature; perfectly understandable.
"Alright, the tea was great, the delivery’s done, and I’ve had a nice rest. Ti for
to head back."
Having teased her enough, Leon figured he should go. It was getting late, and he needed to prepare dinner.
"Mm." This ti, Leah didn’t try to make him stay. Leon’s teasing still had her flustered, and she was feeling a little dizzy from the lingering embarrassnt.
Seeing she was distracted, Leon didn’t say more. He waved goodbye, picked up his bamboo fishing rod from her door, and left.
He didn’t go straight back to the farm, though. Instead, he headed to the pier to retrieve his bicycle, then pedaled leisurely ho.
The first thing Leon did upon returning to the farm was take a shower and change clothes. Seeing his makeshift clothesline already full of laundry, he shook his head.
"Still need to make more money and renovate the place—at least get a kitchen and bathroom. Right now, this feels like wilderness survival."
Shaking off his musings, Leon went inside to find ingredients for dinner.
He wasn’t about to make that thin porridge again—once was enough. Sure, it was easy, but it was the kind of watery gruel that, in famine years, would get you executed for serving to officials. It simply wasn’t filling.
So tonight, Leon decided on handmade noodles. He even used the retractable feature of the Galaxy Waterlon Knife as a rolling pin. It might be a bit of an indignity for a Galaxy weapon, but it worked beautifully.
He cooked the noodles, cracked in two eggs, and ended up with a simple but hearty dinner.
Sitting under the eaves with a pot full of noodles and broth, Leon slurped happily. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a teor in the sky.
What shocked him was that the teor seed to be getting bigger—and it was coming straight toward his farm. He froze, not because he didn’t want to dodge, but because it was moving so fast that he knew there was no way he could outrun the blast radius.
So this is how I’m going to die? Damn it, I just planted my Ancient Seeds today.
Clutching his pot, Leon could only roar his frustration, then waited for the impact.
Death wasn’t a concern—Forest Magic would protect him. Since he couldn’t alter its course, he resigned himself to his fate. Last life, he’d been taken out by a truck and hadn’t really experienced death properly. Maybe a teor to the face would make for an interesting mory.
But reality disappointed him. Just as the teor entered visual range, flas licking from friction with the air, it suddenly stopped above the farm.
Yes—stopped. With no warning at all, it froze in midair, as if caught by an invisible hand. The flas snuffed out, and it simply hovered there like an ordinary rock.
Three seconds later, it began to descend again—but much slower this ti. Even so, gravity brought it down fast enough to thud into the ground and leave a shallow crater.
Putting down his pot, Leon walked over to where it had landed—just west of the farm, near the greenhouse. What he saw was a four-ter-long, oval-shaped teorite, pale purple in color, with bright violet crystal-like streaks protruding from it.
"You’re really an embarrassnt to the teor family," Leon muttered.
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