Rabahn
Her brother was studying the soil intently, reaching down to feel its texture as well.
"How does it look?"
Maomao peered over Rabahn's shoulder. The farmers apparently rose early—they were already hard at work despite the sun having only just begun to come up. Maomao had been unable to sleep well from exhaustion, woken by the sounds of the early-rising farmers.
They were at the fields of the farming village they had arrived at the day before. Permission had been obtained from the village head the previous day, so Rabahn was examining the soil as he pleased.
Wheat was sprouting across the fields. Maomao worried the sheep or goats might eat it, but presumably they were kept penned behind fences at all times except when grazing, so it should be fine.
"The soil isn't bad. The drainage is good, too. It could actually stand to be a little leaner."
"So less nutrition is better?"
Poking her face in was—
Suzume.
.
(She had stayed up late the night before, it seemed.)
She had returned to the tent at midnight. The negotiations had apparently dragged on, but she was in high spirits.
Maomao figured it was best not to ask what kind of negotiations she had been conducting.
After all, Suzume had told her to act as usual, so that was what she would do.
Rabahn rose to his feet and surveyed the entire field. In the current season, the fields lay fallow. Were they about to plant wheat here?
"Potatoes are different from other vegetables—they actually grow better in lean soil. If sweet potatoes get too much nutrition, they just put all their energy into growing leaves instead of the tubers. Potatoes become more prone to disease."
"I see. Oh, by the way—just bread for breakfast won't be quite enough, so I'll add some porridge as well."
"Ah, that's very kind—"
Suzume had brought over several sweet potatoes and was peeling them.
"What are you peeling?!"
In a flash, Maomao snatched the sweet potatoes away. "Awww," Suzume whined, spinning in a little circle.
"These are se·ed sweet pota·toes! Don't eat them!"
"But there's nothing here but wheat. We're running low on rice too, so I thought I'd add some sweet potatoes to stretch things out."
"That sweet potato porridge looks delicious."
Maomao was starting to get a little hungry too. For breakfast,
bread
was harder to digest than porridge.
"That's for planting! You can't eat it!"
Rahan's brother barked in the tone of someone scolding a child. The sheep sleeping in a nearby pen let out a "baa~" as if to complain about the noise.
"Ah, this can't be used as seed potatoes anymore..."
"Then I'll have it."
"I suppose there's no helping it."
"We don't have enough, so about three more, please."
"No!"
Rahan's brother swiftly stopped Sparrow. Maomao clenched her fist tight, realizing that even someone as ordinary as him had a place where he could shine.
"Putting breakfast aside for now—do you actually think you'll be able to cultivate them?"
Part of her wanted to watch the banter a while longer, but they needed to get things moving. At Maomao's question, Rahan's brother crossed his arms.
"This place is pretty similar to Shihoku Province. It's not as far north, but when you factor in the climate, potatoes seem like a better bet than sweet potatoes. It's colder around here than Kaō Province."
"...It certainly does feel cold here. The Western Capital seemed warmer, if I recall."
There was a temperature difference, but it wasn't cold enough to warrant a coat. She had always assumed it was just because of the strong wind.
(My ears hurt a little.)
Maomao pinched her nose and popped her ears.
"Apparently the elevation here is considerably higher than the Western Capital."
"It does seem that way."
"Is that so?"
Sparrow pulled a map from inside their robe.
"Sparrow, I know you're good at reading maps, but they don't show elevation or anything like that. No wonder the air feels thin."
"Well, I already knew. My old man used to tell me all sorts of things."
Hmph," he declared, puffing out his chest like any ordinary person would.
"West Capital is close to the desert, so daytime temperatures are quite high, aren't they? Here, it's chilly even during the day."
Maomao couldn't help but realize, belatedly, that even within the same Tsubasa Province, the climate could differ so dramatically.
"So it really won't grow?"
"Hard to say. Basically, if you're planting sweet potatoes, you'd want temperatures like those in Huaao Province from spring to early summer. Over here, whether it's the desert or the highlands, the temperature isn't what I'd call suitable. It might be worth a test run, but potatoes would be the safer bet—but..."
No matter what, Raban's expression was clouded over. He marched into the field with a dissatisfied look and immediately began trampling the wheat.
"What are you doing? You're going to get yelled at—"
Suzume said this while standing by and watching.
"I'M the one who wants to yell! This field hasn't been trampled at all!"
"Wheat trampling?"
Tilting her head, Maomao watched Raban scuttling sideways like a crab.
"You stomp on the wheat like this to encourage tillering. It strengthens the roots too, and makes the stalks less likely to fall over. But this field doesn't look like anyone's done any of that!"
"As expected of a farmer."
"Who are you calling a farmer?!"
(Who else would it be besides you?)
Raban continued trampling the wheat with his ridiculous crab walk. Regardless of his intentions, the farmer in him had thoroughly seeped through. Suzume, thinking it looked like fun, began copying Raban's movements and trampling the wheat too. Once that happened, Maomao had no choice but to join in or it would never end.
As the three shuffled along sideways, villagers began waking up and gathering, observing the guests' strange behavior from a distance.
"What in the world are you lot doing..."
There, face tight with frustration,
Ma Shan
stood there.
On top of a flat-baked
bread
lay skewers of lamb and
steamed buns.
were set out. There was a pot on the stove, and lamb and wheat noodles were in
broth
that was simmering. The drink had a color too pale to call tea—they used goat's milk instead of hot water, so it was not the kind of tea Maomao knew.
(Dairy and livestock meat are the staples; vegetables are sparse)
Even grains—if this weren't a farming village, there would have been even less.
The meal was taken inside a large tent, with Maomao and Sparrow joining in. Sparrow's congee hadn't been ready in time, so it was served at supper. The potatoes that had already been peeled were sliced thin and roasted on the stove.
Since Ma Shan was sitting in front of the stove, Sparrow, Maomao, and Brother Luoban were also allowed to sit in the warm spot. The others sat in a circle around them.
The hot
broth
was a little bland, so Maomao asked Sparrow for salt and stirred it in. The skewers were far more delicious than the street stall fare in the capital.
The bread serving as a plate was hard, so she tore it into strips and dipped it in the broth. When topped with heated
cheese,
it tasted good.
Vegetables were only nominally present in the broth and steamed buns—quantitatively, they left something to be desired.
"That's exactly the problem—they don't bother growing them properly. Stomping all over the wheat like that, bit by bit—do you have any idea how much it affects the yield later on?"
"Yes, you're quite right. If you're not going to eat that cheese, I'll have it."
"Hey! Don't just take it!"
With a quick movement, Sparrow snatched the cheese from Brother Luoban.
(She didn't even need to do that)
Targeting Ma Shan—who seemed quick but had poor concentration—would have had a higher success rate, but Sparrow probably knew that and was doing it on purpose.
While eating, they talked about what had been done in the fields earlier.
"I was told this was supposed to be some kind of inspection—what's the actual story, Brother Luoban?"
The name "Brother Luoban" had taken root in Ma Shan's mind. Normally he would have asked for the person's real name more carefully, but perhaps some kind of extralegal measure was at work.
"No—my name is—"
"You brought seed potatoes, so you must have intended to plant at least some, right?"
Maomao cut in immediately.
"Well, the deal was to plant them if there was a good spot. That's what I heard from Rahan. Since he asked me, I've got to handle even that brother of his properly."
(Despite having such a terrible relative, he's surprisingly decent.)
But something about it made you want to tease him.
"I understand about the wheat field, but you look very displeased. Is there some problem?"
"A huge one. Do these people even intend to tend their fields properly?"
"I'm no expert, so forgive me, but is it really worth getting that worked up just because they weren't doing that wheat-treading thing?"
Maomao agreed with Basen's opinion. Wheat treading was certainly a task performed to help the wheat grow better, but that didn't mean the wheat wouldn't grow without it. If other work was busy, it was the kind of task you could reasonably skip.
"It's not just the wheat treading. The sprouting is all over the place — I get that they broadcast-seeded, but they should have sown it more evenly. And they need to spread the fertilizer more uniformly; there are patches where the soil color is different."
"You're awfully picky. Want a sweet potato?"
"I'm not being picky! I'm sick of sweet potatoes!"
Maomao took a roasted sweet potato from Suzume and ate it. The sweet potato was plenty sweet and delicious on its own, but adding
butter
made it even mellower and tastier. Suzume seemed to like the idea too, and quietly began slicing and roasting three more.
She understood what Rahan's brother was trying to say, but Maomao had her own counterargument.
"Could it be that farming methods differ by region? If livestock has traditionally been the mainstay, there wouldn't be much need for grains. And without demand, there's no reason for the technology to develop."
"That's true. But what I'm saying is that they're being lazy here. At this rate, I can't imagine they'll get much of a harvest. These people know the techniques but are cutting corners."
"If they have other sources of income, it shouldn't be a problem. Is it really worth worrying about?"
Basen also objected while sipping his milk tea.
"That's—exactly—what—I'm—"
"Why would they bother doing agriculture if they already have other income?"
Maomao felt she finally understood what Rahan's brother was trying to say.
"Y-yes, that's right."
Rahan's brother looked slightly relieved, as if glad she had finally caught on.
"I don't get it."
"I don't really understand. Could you explain it more simply to me, Suzume?"
Bashin and Suzume each asked for an explanation.
"If they can make a living through pastoralism, then they should just keep traveling while herding. There's no need to go out of their way to settle down and make fields, as that only makes raising livestock more difficult. I think the reason is that agriculture had more advantages than pastoralism."
"Well, it can take a toll on the body, traveling all the time."
"Yes. Even with this tent, it seems transitions from pastoral to agrarian life aren't rare. Sometimes they became farmers out of unavoidable necessity. Or perhaps because it was more advantageous. If it's the latter, wouldn't you think they'd want to increase their harvest even more?"
Hearing Maomao's explanation, Rahan's brother nodded with "Mm, mm," while the other two had blank expressions on their faces.
"I'm not explaining it well. What should we do?"
"It's like, I understand it's strange, but..."
"I can't quite put it into words."
Maomao groaned while eating a chilled sweet potato. Since there was absolutely nothing sweet here, the sweetness of the sweet potato stood out even more.
"..."
Suddenly, Maomao glanced outside the tent. About two children, perhaps interested in the guests, were peering in. A boy and a girl, probably not yet ten years old, with similar faces—they were likely siblings.
"Would you like some to eat?"
Though a little flustered, the children reached out for the sweet potato, a food they had never seen before. After taking one bite, their eyes widened in genuine surprise.
"Can we have another..."
"Sure, but can I ask you a question first?"
Maomao looked toward the fields.
"That wheat field over there..."
She stopped as she was about to listen to the answer. Now, how should she phrase the question?
"Do your families actually maintain the fields properly? Or have they been cutting corners?"
Suzume interjected bluntly from the side.
"Cutting corners in the fields?"
"Corners?"
The siblings looked at each other.
"Suzume-san, I think even that might be hard for them to understand."
"Is that so, Maomao?"
Suzume handed the roasted sweet potatoes to the children.
"I don't know if it's true, but they say if you make a field, you get money."
"You get money? Like, selling wheat?"
The older brother shook his head.
"No, not that. You get it even without raising anything, so it's easy—"
"Hey! Don't go getting close to the guests!"
A village adult called out to them, and the siblings flinched.
"Ah, wait—"
Maomao tried to call them back, but it was too late. They had already gone off somewhere.
(Money even without raising crops?)
That was a strange story. If it were true, there would be no need to tend the wheat fields at all.
"Sorry, did those children do anything to you?"
"No, nothing."
The villager apologized to Maomao and the others with a troubled look.
(They don't seem to be hiding anything.)
What on earth was going on? Maomao tilted her head and returned to the tent.