Ascendance of a Bookworm Chapter 151

Chapter 151: Pork Processing Was Not My Job (ii) Translator: Rebeka

“Your music is as soft as ever.”

“I don't have your skill, so I have to pick something soothing.”

They were happily exchanging musical notes, and I couldn't get a word in edgeways except to be amazed at how much they expected of themselves. If Wilma's level was amateur, the aristocratic children were masters.

“… If Wilma's level of music is considered amateur to you, may I venture to guess that Rosina is also a good painter?”

“We all have to hone a skill to the point where we can call it a hobby.”

From the level of Wilma's playing, I could approximate the level of Rosina's drawing. It seemed that Lady Christine was a very unusual trainee priestess for her attendants to receive such a high level of education.

After the third bell rang, I finished the practice of fespiel and began to make the picture book of Cinderella. After Wilma had read the story, I discussed with her what ill.u.s.trations to add.

“It's very difficult to show Cinderella's beauty. Besides, if it's only black and white, there's no difference in skin tone…”

“What if Cinderella was separated from her stepmother and stepsisters by her figure?”

“But that stepmother must be a beautiful lady, since she is capable of becoming the second wife of a middle level aristocrat.”

I had intended to embody Cinderella's beauty, but now I was forced to face the fact that her stepmother and stepsisters were beautiful, too. I was lost in thought, when Rosina suggested to me,

“Would it not be more convenient, my Master Maine, to reprint the Children's Edition of the Scriptures, than to trouble yourself with new stories? I think it is a little premature for you to write about the aristocracy. At least it will be more appropriate to consider the matter when you are acquainted with the interior of the temple.”

The Head Priest had said the same thing. Even Rosina pointed out how little I knew about aristocratic society.

“I wanted to make the picture book of Cinderella because I wanted to know if common stories would be accepted…”

“That, Master Maine, is the language of a person who can write common stories.”

Rosina shook her head at me. “Rosina, you're being too direct.” Wilma tried to stop her. But this also meant that Wilma also felt that Cinderella was not a common story.

“… isn't Cinderella a common story?”

“The stories people often hear are about the founding of this empire, the G.o.ds and the knights. I've never heard anything like Cinderella.”

Most of the stories they heard while serving Lady Christine were art-related. In this case, without a proper investigation, it would be impossible to make picture books acceptable to the aristocracy.

“Which do you think would be more acceptable to the aristocracy, the Children's Edition of the Scripture or Cinderella?”

“The Children's Edition of the Scripture, of course, because it contains the knowledge needed to improve education, and it's easy to understand.”

They both said so bluntly that I decided to give up the picture book of Cinderella. Knowing that Cinderella would not be accepted, of course I had to make other picture books that were sure to sell well.

“Then let's give up Cinderella and remake the Children's Edition of the Scripture… Rosina, can you tell me the stories people often hear when you have a spare moment? I want to use them as the material for the next picture book.”

“Those are the stories that you need to know to improve your education. You can always come to me.”

We took apart a Children's Edition of the Scripture and cut all the inside pages in half, dividing them into text and ill.u.s.trations. The ill.u.s.trations were then engraved over the thick paper that was originally used to make the Cinderella templates. In this way, we could print exactly the same ill.u.s.trations as before. Rosina took the penknife that Lutz had put in the workshop, and together with Wilma she engraved the templates in earnest.

“Master Maine, please make the text templates as you did last time.”

Rosina smiled and a.s.signed me work. I could only nod in agreement, as they quickly concluded that I was not suited for the job of making delicate templates for ill.u.s.tration.

… Rosina had great hands and could engrave beautifully, but I must have been bad at this job just because my hands were so small! I believed that when I grew up, I would be dexterous, too.

As for the fact that as an adult Urano had not become dexterous, I decided to ignore it.

Before the sixth bell, the dinner to be delivered to the orphanage was finished, and Nicola and Monica, the first cook's a.s.sistants, walked out of the kitchen exhausted. I was going to have Fran deliver the dinner to the orphanage when he got back, so I asked Rosina to call the chef off duty.

“… why haven't they come back?”

“It takes a long time to process pork. They will probably be back at the last second before the entrance guard.”

I said, looking out of the window. I could see the sun fading into the western sky. People in the city didn't process pork until it got colder, so traditionally the sun would have set long before my family would have returned home. So my guess was that they would not be back for a while. While I was thinking this, Delia came back panting. Her cheeks were as red as an apple, and I wondered whether it was because it was getting cold outside or because she had been running all the way back.

“Delia, you're back. How did it go?”

“I'm back! We've made a lot of pork products! I think we'll be fine this winter!”

I had been worried about her, but now I was relieved to see her so happy. She had come back early to help me get dressed, and she said the others were moving all sorts of processed pork into the bas.e.m.e.nt. As she helped me dress, she went on and on about how they made the sausages and how skilled the butcher staff were at cutting meat.

“And this big piece of bacon from the orphanage was hung up and smoked. It's amazing to hear that the meat doesn't spoil so easily after being smoked! And…”

I could see that working with others on pork was a good stimulus for her. Hopefully in the future she would start interacting with the orphans just as she did today.

“Master Maine, Lutz said he wanted to talk to you about pig skins. Will you please move to the workshop when you are finished dressing?”

From downstairs came the voice of Fran. I urged Delia to hurry up, and as soon as I had finished dressing I went downstairs.

“Gil, you go with Master Maine.”

On the way to the workshop, I saw many carts near the gate of the orphanage, where people were busy carrying food into the bas.e.m.e.nt of the girls' dormitory. I also saw my father and Turi. Resisting the urge to run to them, I headed for the workshop.

“Maine, what do you do with these pig skins?”

Lutz asked as soon as he saw me, pointing to the rolled pig skins. I looked around the workshop, pointed to a pot and said, “Put them in that pot first.”

“No need to do anything beforehand?”

“I was thinking of soaking it in lime water to remove the hair. But as I don't know how long it will take, I'd better watch and get rid of the hair slowly. Besides, it's quite late today, isn't it?”

“Just don't waste them.” Lutz took out his writing board and glanced at me with his pen in hand. I immediately understood what he meant and started explaining to him how to make gelatin.

“First, you soke the skins in lime water to remove the hair, and then you peel them off into two layers, the inner layer and the outer layer for tanning. Can you do that?”

“I'm not very good at it.”

Lutz shrugs, his eyes urging me on.

“The inner layer is one of the ingredients. But the outer layer is not used to make gelatin, so we can tan it to make the book cover.”

“Who does the tanning?”

Lutz glared at me, and I flinched.

“Er… leather workshop?”

“When you have money.”

I was stung by his words and could only pretend not to hear them and go on.

“The inner layer should be soaked in lime water until it is swollen and soft, which means the ‘protein' and ‘fat' have been eliminated. This happens naturally, so you just leave it alone. Then wash it clean, put it in hot water and cook it over low heat for two bells.”

“Two bells? That's a long time.”

Lutz said as he took notes on his writing board.

“Then comes the hard part. To keep the water at the same temperature as the tea we drink, the impurities float up or settle down and the middle part becomes transparent. We use the clear middle part.”

When I stopped, Lutz looked up from his writing board, looking puzzled.

“… how do you use only the middle part?”

“I have no experience either. We'll have to try.”

“Are you kidding? Is it ok to scoop the needed parts into a small pot?”

I knew I could gently scoop out the impurities that were floating up, but I didn't know how to do it or to what extent, so I had to try.

“The final step is to pour the liquid into the box, put it by the window and let it cool and set.”

“Well… it takes a long time to soak and boil, so we should make candles at the same time.”

Lutz looked at the notes on his writing board and concluded.

“Then tomorrow when we make gelatins, we'll make candles, too. We'll do the stinking stuff all at once.”

“Good! We must work hard tomorrow!”

We're going to make gelatin! I threw up my hands in excitement.