The dinner at Acker's House was far simpler than imagined.
The main course was a at porridge made with cured at and fine rice, accompanied by pickled radish skin and pickled lon, as well as pan-fried fish and coarse bread mixed with wheat bran.
And this was already a significant upgrade in al standard for Acker.
On regular days, when Acker and his daughter Alma were at ho, they basically had porridge mixed with brown rice, radish skin, and black bread.
Acker originally wanted to prepare more, better food, but was stopped by Arthur.
"It's already enough!
I want to receive your thanks, your sincere thanks, not sothing given reluctantly.
So, it's enough."
Arthur's words left Alvin and Alma, who were helping on the side, puzzled.
Because they noticed that their father was slightly stunned when Arthur spoke those words.
But the next mont, he was back to normal.
Their father still had that simple and honest look, that simple and honest expression on his face.
Nothing was different.
He must have seen it wrong!
Thinking this, Alvin took out the bread he brought back from the bakery—
"This is what master allowed to bake with the shop's oven and ingredients and then bring ho, Lord Kledos, Miss Caesar, if you don't mind, please have a taste."
Alvin's face wore a hint of shyness and anxiety.
At this mont, Alvin was like a new online writer asking others to read his work.
Eager to show it, yet worried about receiving harsh criticism.
Arthur and Marinda, of course, understood Alvin's feelings.
Both of them picked up a piece of bread and after tasting it, gave a fair assessnt.
"Not bad, not much different from the usual bread.
If you pay a bit more attention to the ferntation of the dough, it would be even better."
This was Arthur's assessnt, as a neighbor on Cork Street, the Kledos family always got their bread delivered from the bakery where Alvin worked.
He could tell the difference with just one bite.
Especially for soone with a sensitive palate like Arthur.
However, Marinda did not express more opinions about the food itself.
This lady was more concerned with what Alvin had said before.
"Your master let you use the oven and the store's ingredients?"
The lady asked.
"Yes, I paid for the ingredients,"
Alvin nodded, then quickly added.
"Good!
It seems you have talent in bread-making."
Marinda knew a bit about the rules of the bakery because her cook, Lady Mary, would talk about it to relax when she had a day off.
So, the lady knew Alvin was highly regarded by his master.
Otherwise, there wouldn't be such preferential treatnt.
According to the normal process, apprentices don't get to touch the bakery's oven until their third year.
The first two years?
The first year is just running errands, doing odd jobs, and delivering bread.
The second year is about kneading dough, washing dishes, and watching the master bake bread.
The whole process is very long, a life that middle-class and wealthy families simply cannot endure.
Of course, it's much better than the seven-year towel-washing and wringing rumor from so island nation.
In that case, it's uncertain whether the craft could even be learned.
The quality of the towel would probably be known by just touching it with one's hand.
Seven years, enough ti to make one itch.
How many towels would have to be wrung to pieces?
Facing Marinda's praise, Alvin scratched the back of his head and smiled simply—the smile, just like Acker's, was unmistakable at this mont.
Just seeing this smile was enough to confirm the father-son relationship between Acker and Alvin.
So, does Alma look more like that 'Bana' lady?
Arthur thought to himself as his gaze turned toward the stove—Acker's House had only two rooms, an inner room that was the bedroom, and an outer room that combined the functions of a kitchen, living room, hallway, storage room, and more. Outside the door was also part of Acker's property, where various items and firewood were piled up.
It wasn't a privilege unique to the Acker Family.
In the Old Town, it was the sa for every household.
It was kind of an unspoken community rule.
Of course, valuable coal would be kept inside the ho.
This too was an unspoken rule.
Alma swiftly shoveled a scoop of coal into the stove.
Originally, this coal was intended for use during the coldest days of the 'Cold Winter Festival', but at this ti, to serve food to the guests more quickly,
the only woman of the house naturally wouldn't skimp.
She scooped a spoon of milky-white lard from a small jar beside her and placed it at the bottom of the pan. As the fat instantly lted, fresh little fish were laid on top.
Sizzle!
Within the unique sound of sizzling fat, the tender little fish quickly changed color.
Alma skillfully arranged the little fish into a circular shape, almost like a fishcake.
After flipping it twice, she placed it on a clay plate alongside radish peels and sliced pickles, while rough bread mixed with bran was set on a larger plate—these pieces of coarse bread had been specially prepared by Alma a few days in advance for the 'Cold Winter Festival'.
"Thank you for the hospitality."
Arthur and Marinda said as they sat on one side of the table.
The two of them were also the only guests.
Malz and the others were busy with the investigation.
Rechelier?
The Police Chief had only glanced at the kitchen of Acker's House before stating he needed to return 'to work'—everyone saw that the Police Chief's carriage was headed toward Shire District.
But no one said anything.
It was well known that the Police Chief had several female secretaries.
Working with female secretaries obviously made for extrely high efficiency.
"We're the ones who should be saying thank you.
Thank you both for saving our lives."
Alvin said earnestly.
Alvin knew all too well what would have beco of him if Arthur and Marinda hadn't arrived in ti, and what would have happened to his sister who happened to return.
Therefore, the bakery apprentice was not only serious with his words but also in his expression.
At the sa ti, he secretly vowed in his heart to leave the Old Town with his family and go to the safer Shire District.
Arthur glanced over and imdiately said—
"If you truly want to thank , then you need to study hard on how to bake bread and make pastries—I love food, especially delicious food, and sweets are my irresistible weakness!
If you can make pastries that satisfy ,
I might consider investing in you to open a pastry shop on West Mok Avenue."
Arthur's words made Alvin stand up abruptly.
The young apprentice was so excited he didn't know what to do with himself.
Which apprentice wouldn't dream of owning their own shop?
Having a shop of his own was Alvin's goal.
As for owning a shop on West Mok Avenue?
That was truly the ultimate life goal!
And, once he really got a foothold on West Mok Avenue, he would certainly be able to leave the Old Town with his father and sister!
Life goals and dreams intertwined, leaving the apprentice's cheeks flushed, knowing he should say sothing to express his determination.
But when the words reached his lips, only one sentence remained.
"I will work hard!
I will do my best!
I will not let you down!"
The young bakery apprentice's voice was loud and clear, like a solemn vow.
Arthur nodded with a smile.
Then, his gaze subtly turned to the silent Acker sitting there—
'What about you?'
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