Chapter Fourteen: The Festival Celebration

Breaching the contract was simply impossible.

At this moment, Chi Sui was expressionlessly wrapping dumplings for tomorrow’s shipment. Fortunately, there was still some pork left; otherwise, if the contract wasn’t broken, the order would have been ruined first.

Meanwhile, Grandmaster One, Momo, having eaten his fill, was outside rubbing his belly and counting stars, while Grandmaster Two, Mr. Shi, was using a wooden pick—of unknown origin—to clean his teeth.

Yes, toothpicking.

Chi Sui glanced over twice before quickly looking away. It was... rather strange.

As if noticing Chi Sui’s gaze, Mr. Shi said, “Young friend, focus—one of those dumplings just burst.”

Since signing the contract, Mr. Shi no longer used the method of transmitting words directly into the mind; instead, he spoke out loud. Momo, who also heard this, immediately ran inside, eager to join the fun.

Chi Sui promptly crumpled the burst dumpling skin into a ball, destroying all evidence—though of course, the filling was saved—and waved away the nosy Momo, who was already leaning in too close.

“Go play somewhere else. If I don’t finish wrapping these soon, I really won’t get any sleep.”

Momo pouted, but seeing he couldn’t help, he thudded away. Though his departing footsteps sounded heavier than when he arrived.

Watching Momo being sent away, Mr. Shi laughed heartily. “Hahaha, don’t worry, Momo. Since the pasture lights have just come back on, the two of us will clear the weeds here.”

Momo froze, eyes wide with fright, then bolted.

No matter how fast he ran, flinging all four legs like sparks, he couldn’t escape Mr. Shi’s strong forelimbs. Soon, his struggling paws were no longer on the ground but thrashing in midair.

“Don’t struggle, Momo. Go on—the pasture’s tomorrow depends on you.” Inside, Chi Sui witnessed this farce with a touched expression, waving her flour-dusted hands.

“Chi Sui, you’re too much.”

Momo’s voice faded into the distance, presumably taken by Mr. Shi to divide their labor areas up in the air. It was unknown how good Momo’s night vision was. Even with the lights, some parts of the pasture remained dim, and the rest of the streetlights wouldn’t be installed until tomorrow’s electrical repairs were finished.

This little incident boosted Chi Sui’s mood considerably; she felt more energized wrapping dumplings and unconsciously hummed a tune.

---

As the number of dumpling skins dwindled, Chi Sui was about to check the count when a familiar gust of wind blew through. Because the door was open, it nearly swept away her tray full of dumplings. Luckily, she reacted quickly and shielded it with her body.

After tidying the table, covering the tray, and weighing it down, Chi Sui dared to step outside to see what had happened.

It had been five days since arriving at the sky island. The forage planted in the fields had grown tall; white radishes had sprouted leaves above the soil, and the recently planted corn had begun to bud. However, Chi Sui had adopted a “plant as you till” approach, making the farmland look chaotic, not to mention the untended areas were overrun with weeds.

Now, the pasture’s weeds lay uprooted and severed at the root. Momo was darting through the piles of weeds, gathering them around the animal shelters.

“So, the pasture’s paths are paved with stones,” Chi Sui realized, noticing the road hidden beneath the thick weeds. Until now, she had only walked along the tracks she had formed herself.

Mr. Shi flapped his wings slowly in the air, finally landing beside her. “Of course. Without roads, how could this place be renowned as the Windborne Pasture? That’s the very foundation of its prestige.”

“The Windborne Pasture? You mean the territory under Fufeng Town?”

Mr. Shi gazed at the pasture illuminated by the lamplight, full of emotion. “Yes. The Windborne Territory includes one city, seven towns, and dozens of villages. This pasture earned its reputation only by standing out in various competitions.”

Chi Sui’s curiosity was piqued by his mention of competitions.

Her curiosity didn’t last long before she received an explanation.

“Every year, Purple Island hosts a variety of food contests. Each territory has its own specialties, but some festivals are universal. For example, the Spring Culture Festival features vegetarian and pastry battles; the Summer Cooling Festival focuses on sweets and iced drinks; the Autumn Harvest Festival is even more diverse.”

“In winter, there’s the Ice Lake Fishing Festival, where dishes made from freshly caught fish compete. Every festival is an important source of prestige for pasture owners.”

“After telling you all this, my main point is that reputation is crucial for a pasture owner. Only with a high reputation will your products be widely recognized, and you won’t have to suffer the fate of two-star dishes selling for just five silver coins a serving.”

“Being a pasture owner is a very promising career. You can already make two-star dishes now—how could you care about a mere fifty gold coins in the future?”

Chi Sui shuddered and held up both hands in a ‘pause’ gesture. “Stop right there. I refuse to be overpraised. Fifty gold coins is still far off for me. As for your jade bricks, all I can say is I’ll keep trying.”

“So, you want me to enter these contests?”

Mr. Shi didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he gently tapped Chi Sui’s head with a forelimb, then turned to help Momo gather the weeds.

“Do your best, little one.”

---

Chi Sui wasn’t sure who those words were meant for.

Smoothing down her disheveled hair, she smiled and called out to the busy pair, “I’ll help too.”

...

Early the next morning.

Having delivered the order as promised, Chi Sui received a small magical-powered icebox brought by Hector.

The icebox was only about half her height and didn’t require electricity. Momo or Mr. Shi only needed to periodically recharge it with mana—regardless of type—as the device’s mechanisms would convert it into the needed ice attribute.

According to Hector, this was Purple Island’s latest research achievement, certified by the Merchants’ Association. It could extend the freshness of most foods by more than ten days without flavor transfer—especially for iced drinks, which reportedly never spoil no matter how long they’re stored.

Chi Sui had also inquired whether electric refrigerators existed in this era of electricity. The answer was no. Hector explained that such substitutes weren’t necessary; the sky island’s power supply relied heavily on mana generation, and electricity was expensive. Not all residents could afford it; ordinary folk preferred cellars for food preservation.

Chi Sui couldn’t help but marvel at how oddly the sky island’s technology tree had developed.

Before she and Momo could discuss how to recharge the icebox’s mana—whether to put the porcupine inside or on top—the long-unseen Mayor Ayla suddenly visited.

True to form, her voice was heard before she appeared, still as loud as ever.

“Xiao Sui, I heard you can make two-star dishes now. Soon, there will be a cooking contest in nearby Windbell Town. Interested in participating?”

Great—just yesterday they talked about contests, and today the invitation arrived.

Chi Sui hurried outside, greeted her, and asked the question she most wanted answered:

“Is there money involved?”