Shocked grandfather and grandson

"Galen, quickly help the old man and the child up," Magnus Valorion ordered hastily.

Galen Veritas immediately helped the old man up from the dust and proudly said, "My young master has a heart of gold. It's because of his good heart that he was framed by villains and demoted to Green River Town."

Magnus didn't want Galen to mention his misfortune and quickly interrupted, "Galen, stop talking and help me inside to rest." Turning to the old man, he said, "Sir, could you please heat some water? We've had a long, dusty journey, and I would like to wash up with hot water."

The old man nodded promptly and, along with Galen, carefully helped Magnus into the house. "Don't worry, sir, I will take good care of you," the old man assured.

Galen settled Magnus in and then went back to the ox cart to fetch their luggage. As he was about to enter the house, he felt something was off. He searched through the straw in the cart and found only straw and nothing else.

Galen was sure they hadn't brought any fine rice or Yunnan Baiyao when they left. He couldn't help but be curious about where his young master got the fine rice and the Yunnan Baiyao.

"Could someone be secretly helping my young master?" Galen wondered, but he knew poor people wouldn't have these items.

Unable to figure it out, Galen returned to the house to continue taking care of Magnus.

After a while, the old man brought a basin of warm water and said politely, "Sirs, I'm cooking some porridge. Please join us for a meal later!"

Magnus nodded slightly and thanked him politely, "Thank you, sir!"

The old man waved his hand repeatedly, "No trouble at all. It's what I should do."

After Galen helped Magnus wash up, the old man brought two large bowls of thick porridge. The porridge was made with the rice Magnus had given them, while the old man and his grandson drank very thin porridge.

Galen fed his young master a few mouthfuls, but Magnus found the porridge tasteless and instructed, "Galen, this porridge is a bit bland. In the bottom right corner of the straw pile in the ox cart, there are some packs of pickles. Go and get them for me."

Galen was stunned. When he fetched their luggage, he had thoroughly checked the straw pile and found nothing. He said, "Young master, I just checked, and there's nothing in the straw pile. Are you sure you weren't dreaming about the pickles?"

Magnus, unperturbed, replied mysteriously, "Just go and look."

Seeing his young master so insistent, Galen had no choice but to set down the porridge and walk out to the ox cart. He casually searched the bottom right corner of the straw pile and was stunned. There really were several packs of red-packaged pickles under the straw.

Galen rubbed his eyes in disbelief. The red-packaged pickles were still there, quietly lying under the straw.

"This is impossible, it's like I'm seeing ghosts!" Galen was sure there had been nothing there when he checked before. Now these pickles appeared out of nowhere like a phantom.

"Am I getting old?" Galen began to doubt his eyesight. But he immediately dismissed the thought. "Impossible, it's definitely not my eyes. I'm only in my early thirties. How could my eyesight be failing?"

With trembling hands, Galen picked up the pickles and nervously walked back into the house. Halfway there, he turned back and thoroughly checked the ox cart again. After confirming there was nothing else, he nervously returned to the house.

Galen placed the pickles in front of Magnus and whispered, "Young master, I brought the pickles you mentioned."

Magnus tore open a pack of pickles and poured them into the porridge beside him. He left one pack for Galen and handed the remaining pickles to him, saying, "Give these pickles to the old man and the child. They probably don't have anything to go with their meal."

As Magnus expected, the old man and his grandson had almost no food, let alone side dishes. At that moment, the two were savoring their small bowls of porridge. The old man repeatedly instructed his grandson, "Eat slowly, my dear. Savor it. This is fine rice that only the wealthy can eat."

Indeed, this fine rice was different. Compared to the rough wheat they usually ate, it was sweet and smooth, not scratching the throat. The grandfather and grandson savored the porridge, feeling as if they were living like emperors.

Galen pushed open the kitchen door with a creak, interrupting their pleasant daydream. Seeing Galen enter, the old man quickly stood up to greet him, "Sir, is there anything else I can do for you?"

Galen shook his head and handed the pickles to the old man, saying, "My young master thought you might not have any side dishes, so he sent me to bring you some pickles."

The old man received the pickles with gratitude. After Galen left, he examined the package for a moment before carefully opening it. With his wrinkled hand, he gently tasted a bit of the pickle.

In the next moment, the old man's eyes widened in disbelief. "This is…"

"It's salt, yes, it's salt."

"The pickles that the gentleman brought contain salt."

If Magnus were in the kitchen, he would be bewildered by their astonishment. Salt was common and cheap in his previous world, costing only a dollar a pack, available everywhere.

Some nutritionists even warned people not to consume too much salt to avoid high blood pressure and other health issues. But in this feudal and backward world, a handful of salt was more precious than gold.

The old man carefully took a long piece of pickle and put it in his grandson's bowl, while he took a shorter piece for himself. He even rinsed his fingers in the hot porridge to retain the salt and oil residue.

Seeing the slight oil sheen in the porridge, the old man couldn't help but sigh, "These wealthy people really don't know how to live frugally. They put oil and salt in their pickles. Such extravagance!"

The little boy, staring at the shiny pickle in his bowl, drooled and couldn't resist asking, "Grandpa, can I eat it now?"

The old man nodded, about to remind his grandson to eat slowly and savor the pickle, but the boy quickly bit into it.

The crunching sound filled the room, and the boy felt like he was tasting the most delicious food in the world.

Looking at the opened pack of pickles, the boy looked up at his grandfather and whispered, "Grandpa, this pickle is so good!"

"I want more!"

The old man sighed, mumbling, "Of course it's good, it has oil and salt."

Seeing his grandson's pleading eyes, the old man reluctantly took out two more long pieces of pickle and put them in the boy's bowl. This time, he didn't rinse his fingers in the boy's porridge but licked them clean himself to savor the salt and tiny bit of oil.

When Galen returned, he told Magnus about the scene he had witnessed in the kitchen, where the old man and his grandson were enjoying their porridge with small bowls.

Magnus, having had a few more sips of porridge, felt full and said to Galen, "I'm done eating. You can have the rest."

"If you can't finish these two bowls of porridge, share some with the old man and the child."

Magnus hadn't actually eaten much of his porridge, only a few sips, not even a quarter of the bowl. Even with what was left, it was enough to fill Galen up.

In Galen's eyes, his young master's behavior was purely out of kindness. He had tried to dissuade him before, but it was futile.

So Galen could only take the untouched bowl of porridge back to the old man and his grandson.

Galen didn't know that Magnus, who had crossed over from another world, wasn't being excessively kind but was genuinely too weak to eat much. The notion of great kindness was merely Galen's sentimental misinterpretation.

When Galen returned to the room, Magnus was already asleep. Finally, Galen could enjoy his dinner.

As Galen took a big gulp of the smooth porridge, the sweet taste of the rice filled his mouth.

With a bite of the fresh pickle, Galen felt as if he had entered heaven. The warmth, sweetness, and sense of fulfillment enveloped him.

Suddenly, a bold thought burst into Galen's mind—his young master could conjure fine rice and delicious pickles out of thin air. If it wasn't divine help, then it must be destiny.

"Yes, it must be destiny. The young master must be destined for greatness!"

This bold idea took root deeply in Galen's heart.