I Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World To Farm And Build Houses!-Chapter 382: Memories

He found a rolling pin, rolled the mixture out thin, and tried to cut it into evenly sized long strips, looking just like Ba Vi milk candy.

"Here, taste it. The milk candy I promised you, giving you the first piece."

Eric placed a piece in Arthur’s hand.

A sweet fragrance emanated from the palm of his hand. Arthur couldn’t distinguish whether it was the smell of the milk candy or the scent of the person in front of him.

While he was still dazed, Sam had hurriedly put down his empty ceramic bowl and ran over from the door: "Smells so good! Is it done? Hurry, let me taste it too!"

He conveniently squeezed in between the two of them. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Eric wanted to laugh. Sam’s gluttonous nature hadn’t changed at all; it seemed to have gotten worse staying in the dining hall, a place full of delicious food.

Quite a lot of milk candy was made. Eric kept some aside, putting it into the small silver jar that had held the sugar earlier.

This silver jar was exquisitely made. The white sugar was used up, so leaving it empty was a waste; it was perfect for holding milk candy. It was a pity there was no glutinous rice paper; it would easily stick together in hot weather.

The rest was left in the dining hall for Sam and everyone to share, with instructions to remember to save some for the beastman cubs.

"How does it taste?" Eric hadn’t eaten any after finishing. Watching everyone temporarily put aside their work to come and share the candy, his heart was filled with a sense of accomplishment. He smiled and turned to ask Arthur.

Sam, who had just played the role of a buffer, had long thrown that matter to the back of his mind, happily chewing milk candy with everyone else.

Arthur seriously bit off half a candy, tasted it carefully, and said: "It would be better if it were a bit sweeter."

Eric was stunned. Since when did this guy eat with such moderation? Could it be that he had secretly eaten some himself today?

Moreover, this was the first time he had heard an opinion from Arthur’s mouth. Before, no matter what dish he made, Arthur was only responsible for eating and praising.

He leaned slightly closer and asked suspiciously: "If it’s not sweet enough, you can dip it in thorny beast honey. By the way, have you recovered your memory?"

Only this reason could explain Arthur’s sudden change! Even if the recent "cold war" made him less clingy, it shouldn’t have changed his entire personality!

Arthur’s movements paused, his fingers curling slightly.

"I remembered a little, not much."

"So that’s it. I said so. If you had truly recovered, you would definitely be in a hurry to go home." The doubt in Eric’s heart was finally resolved. He patted Arthur’s shoulder comfortingly.

"Don’t worry. As long as you start recovering, you’ll definitely remember everything before long. Then you can go home."

Arthur didn’t answer. He lowered his head, stuffed the rest of the candy into his mouth, and whispered: "But I don’t want to go back."

"That’s because you haven’t remembered everything yet. Wait until your memory recovers and you recall your family; you won’t say that then."

Eric took the small silver jar and walked out, with Arthur naturally following behind him. The other beastmen were immersed in the soft, chewy texture of the milk candy and didn’t pay attention to the two leaving.

Leaving the dining hall, with no other beastmen around, Arthur whispered:

"Dragons are different from beastmen. Our family ties are very weak. I had just crawled out of my eggshell when my parents kicked me out of the cave."

This fit Eric’s existing impression of the Dragon race perfectly, and he couldn’t help but slow down: "Aren’t they afraid of you facing danger doing that? Aren’t dragon cubs very precious?"

Arthur gave a bitter smile: "The Dragon race has difficulty reproducing, but that is our nature. Once a cub hatches, it is driven out to be independent. Of course, the magical beasts on Dragon Island are all food intentionally left by the Dragon race, so there won’t be any life-threatening danger."

He spoke very lightly, but Eric thought of a small dragon struggling to survive alone and found it very pitiful. No wonder dragons all grew up like that; it explained why everyone had a bad temper.

He didn’t know if it was because his memory hadn’t fully recovered, but Arthur didn’t look like the unreasonable person in the rumors at all. Saying he was thoughtful wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

Eric lamented the Dragon race’s strange child-rearing methods for a while. No wonder when Arthur recovered his memory, the first thing he remembered was his hidden treasure, not his family or friends.

With this mentality of the Dragon race, perhaps their way of making friends was also unusual.

A beastman responsible for delivering food to the people and animals at the cowshed returned holding an empty ceramic bowl, chewing something in his mouth. As he passed by, a scent of milk wafted out.

It seemed the production of chewy yogurt over at Gas’s place was going quite smoothly, Eric thought to himself.

With a set of appropriately sized pots and pans brought by Jessica and other beastmen, Gas found making chewy yogurt much more convenient - at least he didn’t need to wield a shovel taller than a person to stir constantly.

If Gas weren’t accustomed to heavy labor, he really wouldn’t have been able to produce the first pot of chewy yogurt.

Even so, Eric still went to the human dormitory at the cowshed to check.

Seeing him arrive, Gas hurriedly came out to welcome him. The others also hastily lowered their heads, working even harder.

Even seeing a strangely dressed person behind the young Clan Chief, Gas didn’t dare to look too much and said respectfully: "Lord Clan Chief, this is the chewy yogurt we just finished making. Over there are the batches that have cooled down."

Afraid of dust, he had even deliberately told people to find clean leaves to cover the chewy yogurt.

Eric went over to look. In just a few short hours, over a hundred catties of chewy yogurt had been made here. It was evident that these people hadn’t slacked off in the slightest.

Ten catties of milk wouldn’t yield even a single tael of chewy yogurt; this was labor-intensive work, which was why it was sold so expensively in his past life too.

Out of the corner of his eye, seeing the cold food and soup to the side, Eric looked at the solicitous Gas in front of him and sighed:

"There’s no rush in making chewy yogurt; this milk was already sour anyway. At least eat before continuing, or take turns eating. How can you work on an empty stomach?"

No one had ever said such words to slaves. Gas and the people making chewy yogurt behind him were a bit stunned. Those noble masters only wished they would work without eating or drinking; who would care if they were hungry?

"Thank you, Lord Clan Chief. I already had them take turns eating. I will go eat immediately as well." Gas was moved and thanked him repeatedly.

Eric didn’t understand what was so touching. It was just a different era; he couldn’t use a modern person’s mindset to guess the thoughts of people here: "Alright, then watch them continue. Not bad. You all learned how to make it so quickly."

Chewy yogurt wasn’t hard per se, but controlling the fire required patience to avoid burning the pot. To become proficient so quickly wasn’t easy. It seemed these slaves were quite capable.

His opinion of the Halun merchant group rose a few more points. No wonder Corbin could sit firmly as the president of the chamber of commerce in the Aulu Empire; he really knew his business.

Regardless of what kind of person Corbin was, he was fully qualified as a business partner. Not to mention those high-yield dairy cows, just these capable slaves were worthy of praise.

He watched for a while. Most of the people Gas found to make chewy yogurt were young men. Among them were two women who looked thirty or forty years old, their hands and feet nimble as they stirred the thick substance in the pots.