"You should always remember the immense benevolent heart of the Lord; she is willing to take her precious prey out to share with you, the lowly ones."
The old Butler held a large wooden ladle, standing before the eager crowd, his voice booming as he praised how great and virtuous it was for Jasmine to give meat soup to the slaves.
Those flattering words made Jasmine, standing beside him, blush with shame, wanting nothing more than to find a hole in the ground to hide in.
Moreover, that wild boar was not hunted by her alone; the credit largely belonged to their coordination. But regardless of whether it was the old Butler or the honest Cow-headed man, they all attributed the merit to Jasmine, treating her like a female war god.
They even enthusiastically embellished the story to the slaves about Jasmine's extraordinary bravery when facing the ferocious wild boar.
Jasmine could not stand this excessive flattery anymore and waved her hand to interrupt the old Butler: "Alright, alright, everyone has been working all day and is hungry. Stop talking and share the meat soup for them to eat immediately."
Only then did the old Butler shut his mouth, still unsatisfied and regretful that he hadn't finished his speech.
He tapped the ladle against the edge of the large pot, creating a clanging sound, and ordered the slaves whose eyes were burning around him:
"Did you hear that? Wash your filthy claws, take the wooden bowls you just finished making, and come here to line up in an orderly fashion. Anyone who pushes or does not follow the rules will not get meat soup and will be punished with starvation for three days."
Hearing this, the slaves hurriedly scrambled to wash their hands and then lined up in front of the old Butler, the sound of their footsteps thudding heavily.
Normally, the slaves had experience lining up to receive bean porridge. Although it was a bit chaotic at first due to extreme hunger and excitement, everyone did not want to leave a bad impression on the kind Lord for fear of losing their portion, so they quickly stabilized themselves voluntarily, forming a long queue.
The meat soup had been stewed all afternoon over a high fire; the beans inside were almost mashed, blending into the broth.
The old Butler used the large ladle to stir a few times, and a fragrant aroma rose up. Everyone immediately discovered that this meat soup was much thicker and richer than the watery bean porridge they usually ate.
To save firewood and effort, the female cook usually did not dare to cook beans for several hours for the slaves; barely cooking them until the beans swelled was considered good enough.
Sometimes, the beans were still hard and raw in the center, and the bean water was diluted with so much water to divide into more portions that it was clear enough to reflect a person's image.
Regardless of the bland taste or the watery appearance, it was nowhere near as attractive and high-quality as the pot of meat soup shimmering with golden fat right now.
Looking at the slaves whose eyes were about to bulge out, swallowing saliva audibly as if they wanted to fall into the soup pot, the old Butler did not make things too difficult for them.
He stirred steadily and ladled a full bowl for the first slave. Inside were soft, stewed beans, chopped green vegetables creating an eye-catching color, and a piece of bone with a bit of meat attached protruding from the surface of the soup.
Jasmine did not order people to stingily strip all the meat off the bones. Although the bones were chopped somewhat finely so that everyone could have a share due to the large number of people, everyone could still be lucky enough to receive a small piece to gnaw on for the taste of meat.
"Go to the side to receive a slice of meat sausage and a small vegetable meat cake." The old Butler stopped the slave who intended to carry the bowl away immediately, pointing his hand to guide the slave to the makeshift wooden table of the female cook nearby.
The female cook had finished cutting the meat sausage into even round slices and the vegetable meat cakes into square pieces. Each person did not receive much, just a small piece of each, but that was the essence of the meal.
With these two things added to the thick soup, the old Butler refused to prepare any more tofu for the slaves, fearing it would waste ingredients.
Jasmine had to move the tofu-making to the next morning, which happened to make a hot breakfast for the slaves to have the strength to work.
The slaves did not yet know that they would be given another meal tomorrow morning; what they received right now was already too unexpected for them, far exceeding their imagination.
Some slaves were born in the slave camp, living their whole lives only knowing work, and had never even eaten any elaborately processed food other than boiled beans and sour wild fruits.
The old slave who received these two food items had trembling hands and red rimmed eyes.
He held the bowl of thick, steaming meat soup in one hand, and the meat sausage and vegetable meat cake placed on a clean large leaf in the other, standing dazed for a moment, not knowing how to eat, fearing that eating it would make it disappear.
By the Great Black Dragon up high, if this was a beautiful dream created by hunger, then let him never wake up, let him remain immersed in this aroma.
The old slave stared at the food in his hand for a long time, sniffing the scent. Suddenly, as if thinking of something important, he waddled over to Jasmine, who was standing and observing not far away, and knelt down on the dusty ground with a thud, knocking his head heavily against the ground towards Jasmine until his forehead hit the earth with a distinct clunk.
Not to mention Jasmine, even the old Butler and the other slaves lining up were startled by his sudden action.
"What are you doing?" Jasmine was scared enough to take a step back, almost flinging the Dragon Egg she was clutching in her arms.
"Benevolent... benevolent Lord, thank... thank you for the precious food you bestowed, you are my savior." The old slave stammered his thanks with a voice hoarse from emotion. A strange liquid flowed from the corners of his eyes, mixing with the dust to form smudged streaks, marking two clear trails of tears on his dirty, wrinkled face.
Jasmine was stunned hearing this, her mood slightly complicated and touched.
For her, it was just something done out of convenience, utilizing available ingredients. That wild boar was not even completely hunted by her personally. She did not expect to receive such sincere and intense gratitude from the old slave.
The other slaves who had just received food saw this, and even though their stomachs were rumbling and saliva was drooling, they did not rush to eat.
They mimicked the old slave's posture, coming before Jasmine one by one to kneel on the ground and kowtow. The sound of thumping heads rang out continuously, making Jasmine's scalp tingle; she felt awkward.