279: Chapter 280 Dumplings

She looked at the local indigenous workers who were shrinking back in the shed area, afraid to come closer, and asked with some confusion:

"I mean, we've already paid them their full wages. Why do you have to reach into your own pocket and go through all this trouble to make them a meal?"

Dumpling glanced at Luluchiu and picked up a slotted spoon, stirring the plump, white Dumplings rolling in the pot.

"In reality, I'm a country boy who grew up in a rural village."

Dumpling said while working, "When I was a kid, every time someone in our village wanted to tear down an old house and rebuild a new one, they would invite the masons from the same village to help."

"According to tradition, every day after the workers finished their heavy labor, besides paying them, the adults of the family would prepare a hearty meal or something like afternoon tea—snacks or soup—and bring it to the construction site to reward the fellow villagers who had put in the effort."

As a city girl, Luluchiu listened, feeling somewhat bewildered: "Why? Since you've already paid them enough wages, that's a business relationship. Why bother with all this? If we renovate a house in the city, we just agree on the price, and when the work is done, they leave. Nobody cares if you eat or not."

"That is the difference between the city and the countryside."

Dumpling smiled, his tone carrying a hint of nostalgia, "The city is about cold, hard contracts, but the countryside is different. Many of those who come to help in the countryside are acquaintances, related by blood or marriage. When it comes down to it, tracing back a few generations, everyone is family from the same clan. Looking out for each other and treating them to a good meal is about human connection, and it's also basic respect for the physical labor they've contributed."

Luluchiu understood, but she pointed to the NPCs in the distance: "So... what does this have to do with these NPCs? Do you treat them like family?"

Dumpling thought for a moment, looking at the numb, exhausted expressions of those people: "How should I put it? I feel like the way they are now—shrinking back, working just to get a little bit of supplies to feed their families... they look a lot like the simple country folk I saw when I was a child."

Hearing this answer, Luluchiu fell silent.

"Indeed." Luluchiu sighed, "I really didn't expect that even though the knight mecha technology of The Three Great Families is already so advanced, capable of building such awesome weapons, their lower-class civilians are still living so miserably. They can't even afford a meal with meat every day."

Dumpling sneered: "That's normal. Under the rule of The Three Great Families, the entire planet's land, resources, and lifeblood are all the private property of the knight lords. The nobles lounge in the city, eating and drinking the finest, while the serfs and labor slaves below toil day and night, only to have all the food they produce confiscated."

"Although they don't have to breathe toxic gas in a Hive City like the lower classes of the Empire, or get turned into corpse starch, in essence, they are still just a group of miserable slaves with no personal freedom, exploited for generations."

As the two were talking, the atmosphere became somewhat heavy. Finally, this silence was broken by the sound of cautious footsteps.

At the edge of the square, a middle-aged man walked over, looking uneasy. He was the foreman of this indigenous construction team.

Because the class system on this land was strict, and these foreign merchants were treated with courtesy even by the noble knight lords, their status was naturally revered. Therefore, without the foreman leading the way, none of the lower-class workers dared to approach the players' area on their own.

Dumpling saw the foreman arrive. He handed the slotted spoon to a nearby player and told them to watch the heat. Then, he wiped his hands on his apron and walked up to greet him with a face full of smiles.

"Oh! 4396! You're here!" Dumpling waved enthusiastically.

The foreman named 4396, seeing Dumpling take the initiative to greet him, shuddered all over, quickly took off his hat, and bowed deeply.

After all, in the rumors of the past few days, these low-level laborers had all heard that this generous merchant lord's surname was Liu, and it was said that in their mysterious, ancient country, his ancestors were earth-shattering figures who had been real emperors!

"I... I'm here... My Lord." 4396's voice trembled, and he didn't even dare to raise his head, "We aren't late, are we? The workers have already dismantled the last of the scaffolding and cleaned everything up."

Dumpling grabbed the foreman's rough hand and pressed him down into a chair at the table nearby, saying with a smile: "You're just in time! The work was done beautifully. Go ahead and take a seat; we're about to serve something hot, and there's plenty for everyone today!"

4396, flattered and nervous, sat on the edge of the chair: "O-okay. Thank you, My Lord..."

Dumpling had intended to continue greeting the other workers in the group warmly. But his mind went blank for a long time, and he couldn't recall their names no matter how hard he tried. The reason was simple: on this land, except for the nobles and knights with pure bloodlines, the lower-class civilians were not worthy of having formal names. All of their surnames followed the master's family name, Melissa, and their first names were just a string of numerical codes assigned for the convenience of counting and working!

Under Dumpling's enthusiastic invitation, dozens of indigenous workers finally took their seats at the long table. The players acted as waiters. Bowls of steaming, red-oil-drenched mixed noodles and plates of freshly cooked Dumplings, emitting an enticing white mist, were continuously brought to the metal tables.

What followed was a taste bud experience for these lower-class indigenous people, who had eaten synthetic nutrient paste and tasteless flour paste their whole lives, that could only be described as a soul-shattering nuclear explosion!

The large bowls contained long, thin, golden, translucent strips coated in bright red, glistening oil, emitting a peculiar fragrance that made one's mouth water uncontrollably. In another plate, there were piles of plump, white, semi-transparent, half-moon-shaped objects. One could faintly see the juicy broth and meat filling inside through the skin.

Dumpling walked over with the last two plates of dipping sauce and set them on the table with a thud. "What are you all standing around for? Eat!"

Dumpling untied his apron, wiped his hands with a towel, and pulled up a folding chair to sit next to the foreman 4396. "We've handed out chopsticks to all of you. Eat while it's hot; if it gets cold, the noodles will clump together, and the texture will be ruined."

The foreman 4396 swallowed his saliva. For the indigenous people accustomed to using iron spoons, a tool like chopsticks was clearly too complex. 4396 gripped the chopsticks clumsily, gesturing in the air for a long time, unable to pick up the noodles in the bowl.

The female player next to him, Luluchiu, couldn't watch anymore. She walked over, took a stainless steel fork, and handed it to 4396: "Uncle, use this to twirl it and eat."

4396 took the fork, looking flattered and nervous. He carefully extended the fork and twirled a small clump of noodles in the bowl of red-oil mixed noodles. The red chili oil dripped onto the table along the noodles. The intense aroma of spices rushed straight into his nasal cavity. 4396 stuffed the clump of noodles into his mouth.

His teeth clamped down. The next second, 4396's body stiffened abruptly!

The chewy noodles broke between his teeth, and the primitive sweetness of the wheat exploded instantly. Following that came the mellow richness of soy sauce, the intense fragrance of sesame oil, and that spiciness that felt like it could light a fire on the tip of his tongue! The complex flavors were like a tiny high-explosive grenade, detonating on the taste buds of this indigenous person who had eaten tasteless synthetic starch paste his whole life!

"This..." 4396 opened his eyes wide. He couldn't even bother to speak; his hands, as if uncontrolled, waved the fork again. This time, he directly speared a steaming Dumpling and swallowed it whole. A mouthful of fresh meat broth, filled with the aroma of fat, shot directly into his entire mouth! The savory meat and the crisp sweetness of the vegetables merged perfectly. This top-tier culinary experience completely shattered his psychological defenses.

"Plop." A tear slid down 4396's cheek and hit the metal table. Then came the second drop, and the third.

"My Lord..." 4396 chewed while weeping, "This... what kind of food is this? Is this the real meat that only those knight lords in the legends can eat?"

Seeing the foreman like this, the other workers nearby, who had long been unable to restrain themselves, also grabbed their forks and spoons. For a moment, the only sound left in the square was the slurping and swallowing.

A young worker ate too quickly and was choked by the chili oil, coughing repeatedly. But he clamped his hand over his mouth, determined not to let a single drop of broth spray out.

"It's so delicious... it's so fragrant..." "There's actually meat wrapped inside this dough! It has broth!" "Praise the Lord! Praise the benevolent Lord!"

Watching this group of indigenous NPCs, who looked like reincarnated hungry ghosts yet were eating and crying at the same time, the players who had originally been watching the fun all fell silent. Luluchiu sighed, her eyes turning slightly red. She turned her head and whispered to Dumpling: "This is too miserable. Should we give them some more supplies?"

"Put away your overflowing sympathy." Dumpling leaned back in his chair, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a deep drag, "We are merchants, not interstellar bodhisattvas doing charity."

Although he said that, Dumpling still stood up, walked to the stove, picked up a large ladle, scooped out the remaining half of the Dumplings and noodles in the pot, and brought them to the workers' table.

"Eat slowly, don't choke; there's more in the pot." Dumpling exhaled a puff of blue smoke, his tone indifferent, "Where we come from, this stuff is just ordinary dry rations; it doesn't count as any kind of heavenly food."

Hearing this, 4396 and the workers stopped their movements and looked up, their faces filled with shock. Every household can eat this? In their worldview, ecological farms capable of producing natural wheat and real meat were forbidden zones that only great lords and core nobles could set foot in! What kind of heaven must that place be, where even ordinary people can eat real meat every meal?

Seeing that light called longing ignite in the eyes of these indigenous people, Dumpling knew that the purpose of this meal had been achieved. He was not just following the customs of the countryside. As a shrewd player, he was using the most primitive method to completely win over the hearts of these lower-class indigenous people!

As long as these people had tasted real meat and experienced the dignity of being treated as humans, then from now on, the indigenous workers in this storage base would become the most loyal informants and die-hard followers of the Baby Bus Guild! Any wind or grass movement among the upper echelons of The Three Great Families would not be hidden from the eyes of these lower-class people!

Night fell. The workers dispersed, thanking them profusely. Dumpling arranged for a few players to clean up the bowls and chopsticks, while he turned and walked into the warehouse control room, preparing to log off and write the battle report.