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墨書 Inktalez
Lai De Wen's expression was serious. "As long as you understand, that's enough. You two, call someone."
Two members of the Militia hurried forward to speak.
"Hello, Chef John."
Somewhat surprised, they looked at Lai De Wen with puzzled expressions. "Who is this?"
"Go ahead and introduce yourselves," Lai De Wen gestured for them to speak.
"I'm Johnny, I used to be a lumberjack."
"I'm Joseph, I used to be a farmer."
The two of them had somewhat interesting appearances. If it weren't for the knowledge that they had crossed over to a fantastical land, one might think they had stepped into the world of Pirate King, resembling God Johnny and Sword Saint Joseph. The only difference was that Johnny wasn't wearing glasses, and neither of them had tattoos.
"This is a big shirt for you; I've arranged assistants for you. The supplies in the Back Kitchen will be managed by these two, and you just need to focus on cooking."
"Understood, Lord Lai De Wen."
It seemed he had been promoted, and now he had a proper position. As he mingled with them, he had become a small team leader with two subordinates.
"You two, stop standing there like fools. Lord Lai De Wen has left; come help me tidy up the kitchenware."
"Yes, Chef John."
The two hurried into the kitchen, grabbing cloths to start cleaning. It was clear that they were eager to help.
In the early morning, the wind carried the scent of flowers as Redman White rode on his white horse, clad in splendid armor and wielding a knight's greatsword. Behind him followed sixty armored soldiers, four hundred well-trained militia members, and several wagons as they set off.
However, the high spirits didn't last long; the militia began to show signs of fear, and the formation started to break down. With no other choice, Redman had to dispatch the Soldier Team to patrol both sides.
In the center of the formation, John was unfazed. The more chaotic it became, the slower they moved. As a logistics personnel, he could sneak onto a wagon for a brief rest.
After struggling through fifteen miles, the sun rose high in the sky. Redman had no choice but to heed the advice of veteran soldiers sent by his family and let the troops rest to avoid heatstroke.
"Johnny, quickly set up the pot; Joseph, find some firewood."
While everyone else rested, Chef John couldn't afford to take a break. The young noble Redman wanted freshly prepared meals; he had to figure out how to whip up four dishes and a soup for him.
"Chef John, how's it going? The young master is urging us; he says he's been hungry for a while." A guard came over to hurry him along.
"Why isn't it Lai De Wen?" John thought. After all, that person was definitely high-ranking in this group. Initially, he had run around just to find a reliable chef for Redman; now he couldn't let him do any menial tasks.
The chef knew that Zhu Yuanzhang had killed countless people, yet he would not easily punish the imperial cooks.
"That's good, that's good," he said as he picked up the Iron Pot, gripping the handle with one hand while using a spoon to stir the dishes with the other.
"Alright, the last dish is ready—braised soft-shelled turtle. With four dishes and a soup prepared, you can take them away now."
"John, you really know how to pick your moments," he remarked.
John smiled without saying a word; instead, he placed a piece of braised pork into the other’s pocket for later. He then called out to Johnny and Joseph to help clean up the kitchen, reminding them that they still had military duties to attend to after their break.
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