A rare magical miracle in the world - Chapter 13
Chapter 13: Chapter 11 White Rice Porridge
Translator: 549690339
“I’m willing to serve you as king.”
“I’m willing to serve you as king.”
The people of Yatun, led by the elders, began to repeat this phrase.
It wasn’t until even the children had said it once that the quiet returned.
Then, Bailuo stood at the forefront, looking at everyone, unsure of what to do next.
“Everyone…”
“Wait,” the old uncle interrupted, “That was too quick, lacked a sense of ceremony. Kneel a bit longer.”
“Uh…”
Bailuo said embarrassedly, “How much longer should we kneel?”
“Well, at least, three minutes,” he said.
The old uncle didn’t really know the specifics of the Miracle Oath ceremony, as he had never witnessed the appearance of the Master of Miracles.
Though it was just a formality, if it could be made more solemn, it should be as solemn as possible.
“Oh, okay.”
So, a group of country folks who had never seen much of the world, along with Bailuo, also a country fellow, quietly knelt for 3 minutes as dusk fell.
‘That should be about right.’
Bailuo felt it was time and hastily said, “Everybody get up! The ground is cold. Inya, bring out the big pot, and everyone else, thresh these grains. Tonight, I invite you all to drink white rice porridge.”
He’d told them about the existence of the Miracle, so these grains definitely couldn’t be hoarded.
In fact, Bailuo didn’t want to hoard them either.
He regarded Yatun Village very highly; it was his home in this world, his haven.
And the people of Yatun, they were like Bailuo’s own troops, the very foundation upon which he would build his future.
This was a great opportunity to show the people the power of the Miracle.
Yes, the power of the Miracle—white rice porridge.
“Gurgle gurgle.”
The white rice porridge was prepared with a ratio of 1 part rice to 8 parts water, simmered with a generous amount of fresh wild vegetables.
Inya, unable to contain her impatience, kept adding more wood to the fire and was lovingly thumped on the head by the old uncle who then handed over the task of controlling the fire to the experienced elder.
“What’s this?”
“It smells so good.”
“Gurgle gurgle.”
The people of Yatun were riveted by the contents of the pot, and not just them—Bailuo himself was finding it hard to resist.
The giant clay pot boiled, and the fragrance of the rice wafted through the steam.
Even with only the simple condiment of salt, the unprecedented aroma still made those around it swallow with anticipation.
For twenty long years, eating bread, meat, and fish three meals a day,
Bailuo hadn’t tasted rice for far too long.
Now reunited with this food from a former life, Bailuo felt an inexplicable surge of emotion.
“No need to rush, everyone will get some.”
It wasn’t possible to thresh all 100 kilograms of rice.
Bailuo took out about 10 kilograms of the grain to be beaten into rice and used it to make porridge.
Thus, nearly 14jin (about 7 kg) of rice, when turned into porridge, really filled up a large pot.
This caused the hunger-stricken people of Yatun to light up with excitement.
The village of Yatun currently had 79 people, but the elder sister was out procuring goods, so she wasn’t in the village.
Tonight, wild vegetable rice porridge, along with everyone’s stored cured meat, made Inya, who was commanded by the old uncle to serve the porridge, almost cry with envy.
No, she mustn’t cry.
I, Inya, even if I can’t eat it, will not cry.
Inya: o(╥﹏╥)o
“Alright alright, let me do it.”
Bailuo couldn’t stand Inya’s pleading eyes and let the food lover go to one side to taste, as he took over the task himself.
“You just spoil her too much,” said the old uncle, shaking his head helplessly, but Bailuo replied with a smile, “Hasn’t she become much more sensible now?”
Just then, Inya took the bowl of white porridge that was meant for her and offered it to Blind Girl Alaiya before coming back to claim her own bowl.
“Whew~~ Whew~~”
There was a skinny girl whose hair was a tangled mess, adorned with a few dry leaves.
But the girl paid no attention to these things, her entire focus drawn to the steaming white and green mixed rice soup in her hands.
The girl’s name was Jiera Lulin, the daughter of the Lu Lin family, who were mainly responsible for hunting and forest guarding in the village.
“Delicious! So delicious!”
The boy beside Jiera was slightly younger than her, her brother, John Greenland, “Sis, you have to try this, it’s super tasty!”
“Mm.”
Jiera sipped the white rice porridge, which was very hot and tasted a bit salty.
But there was not a whiff of gameyness or earthiness, and the texture was unprecedented, completely different from black bread.
“Delicious.”
A glimmer radiated from Jiera’s green gemstone-like eyes on her ash-gray face.
Ignoring the heat of the porridge, she unabashedly gulped it down with her brother.
Jiera then took a bite of the cured meat, which magically wrapped the meat and saltiness perfectly, melting smoothly with the porridge in her mouth.
“What is this…”
Jiera felt an inexplicable joy; she did not know what it was.
But looking at her brother, John, she saw the twelve or thirteen-year-old sweating profusely as he ate, wiping his forehead with his sleeve while taking big eager gulps.
“Jiera?”
When Bailuo saw Jiera coming over, thinking she wanted more, he quickly ladled out a large spoonful, but the girl hastily gestured with her hand, “No, no, I’ve had enough. Let the others eat more of it.”
Even though her words were insincere, the People of Yatun had been raised with this habit since childhood.
To eat less oneself, so someone hungrier could have a little more.
“No worries, there’s plenty.”
Bailuo proactively filled another bowl for Jiera, who couldn’t refuse and kept thanking him, “Brother Bailuo, um, should I call you Brother Bailuo? I heard from Uncle Aweng that you seem to have become the Master of Miracles.”
How should one address the Master of Miracles?
Sir, or Your Majesty?
But since she had already referred to him as king before, she should probably call him Your Majesty.
“Call me as you did before, don’t worry about those formalities.”
Bailuo didn’t want to create a rift or a sense of distance between them.
However, Jiera took it very seriously; despite Bailuo’s persuasion, she wouldn’t agree. So, Bailuo had to add, “We are still weak right now, we cannot let outsiders know that we possess miracles, understand?”
“I see, I understand.”
Jiera cared about rank and status, but she knew what was at stake. She asked, “Can we plant this, this food called rice? It’s really delicious.”
The tender texture, the melting in your mouth, and the pure flavor without a hint of earthiness made the food seem like something from a dream.
No, with the People of Yatun’s life experiences, they probably couldn’t even dream of tasting something this delightful.
“We will grow it, of course, we have to plant something this good.”
Bailuo’s words acted as a soothing pill for everyone.
Clearly, they also recognized the excellence of this crop called rice.
“It’s not just this; there are other crops as well.”
Bailuo took the opportunity to exercise his leadership rights, “But I hope everyone can trust me and switch to these new crops in the future.”
Changing to new crops was actually a huge risk.
If it were anywhere else, without absolute authority, it would be impossible to stake the lives and livelihoods of an entire village on this change.
Fortunately, Bailuo still had the Initial Sprout Holy Pouch.
Even if it could only produce 100 kilograms of grain per day, that was more than enough to get by.
With the minimum consumption taken into account, one bowl of rice is about 0.08kg, the amount for one meal.
Assuming each person eats only two meals a day (with less physical activity), that would be 0.16kg. Hence, 1kg of grain could feed six people for a day (not counting vegetables and meat).
Here, ‘rice’ refers to uncooked rice; 0.08kg of raw rice, once cooked, is equivalent to one bowl of rice.
Although it would not fill most people up, the basic energy would be there. They would feel hungry but not starve.
Bailuo could produce 100 kilograms of rice paddy a day, which after milling would yield 70kg of white rice.
Therefore, this amount of rice could sustain 420 ordinary people if given entirely to humans. The People of Yatun had larger appetites than the average person, but for mere survival, the basic need wouldn’t differ much from the norm.
If replaced with rice-free grains like mung beans or red beans, it might last even longer.
This was a contingency in case of a poor harvest; however, Bailuo also needed seeds for farming.
“Listen to the little Yatun.”
“Whatever you decide is fine, Brother Bailuo.”
“We have a leader now, and what the leader says goes.”
The People of Yatun were actually quite naive and backward, still adhering to a chieftain system, a despotism reminiscent of primeval times.
But at the same time, it was a form of trust, the whole tribe’s choice to entrust their future to the smartest among them.
From that moment on, Yatun Village truly became led by Bailuo, with everyone becoming his soldiers to command.
This made Bailuo feel the weight on his shoulders, a heavy sense of mission and responsibility.
