Adrian opened the first lunchbox, and the steam hit him immediately. It was a rustic local staple: big-boned pork stewed with sauerkraut. The sharp, fermented tang of the cabbage cut through the air, instantly awakening his palate. His mouth began to water, and the hollow ache of hunger in his stomach became impossible to ignore.

The second container held buns stuffed with sauerkraut and crispy lard cracklings. Unlike the massive, fist-sized buns typical of the region, Evelyn’s were small, delicate, and meticulously pleated.

"Evelyn wasn't sure if the sauerkraut and lard filling would suit your taste," Barrett interjected quickly, "so she didn't pack many. She said you should have your secretary grab some extra staples from the canteen this afternoon."

Adrian nodded, his curiosity piqued as he reached for the final box.

Inside lay silkworm pupae, fried to a golden, fragrant crisp. The aroma of Sichuan peppercorns and dried chilies had been infused into the pupae, elevating their earthy scent to something savory and intense.

Barrett swallowed hard; the smell was undeniably delicious. "Mayor Adrian, this is a local specialty—dry-fried silkworm pupae. They’re the stage before the moth, after they've spun their silk. If you find them... unappealing..."

Before Barrett could finish his warning, Adrian had already picked up half a pupa and taken a bite. The texture was unique—a rich, fried crunch giving way to a tender, sweet interior that tasted remarkably like succulent chicken.

Barrett knew many Southerners couldn't stomach the idea of eating "bugs," especially a refined, educated man like Adrian. He had fully expected the Mayor to recoiled in disgust. Instead, he watched, dismayed, as Adrian picked up another. And then another. Barrett had been secretly hoping the Mayor would hate them so he could take the leftovers home to pair with his evening liquor.

After a few more bites, Adrian nodded in approval. "Surprisingly good," he remarked.

Barrett stood there, stunned. You’ll even eat pupae? Are you sure you're actually from the South?

"Is there something else?" Adrian asked, glancing up when he realized Barrett hadn't moved.

"Well, Mayor... I haven't actually had my lunch yet. I was wondering if..." Barrett trailed off, shamelessly angling for a taste.

Adrian didn't skip a beat. He pressed the intercom for his secretary. "Come in, please. Escort Barrett to the canteen for lunch."

Barrett’s face fell. The secretary entered, giving the village chief a puzzled look. Barrett took one last, longing glance at the pupae—fried in so much precious oil—and then a reproachful look at Adrian. He had no choice but to follow the secretary out, dejected.

Once the office was quiet, Adrian picked up the phone and dialed Red Wolf Valley.

When the accountant called Evelyn to the phone, she was genuinely surprised. She expected it might be the Wards calling from Jiang City to harass her; she never expected to hear Adrian’s voice.

Outside, the afternoon sun fought its way through the window, stroking Evelyn’s face with a gentle, golden warmth that made her eyes spark with a sudden, bright light.

"Brother Adrian? How were the fried pupae?"

The voice through the receiver was slightly distorted by the line, but Adrian could still detect the unmistakable note of mischief in her tone. She was teasing him.

A helpless, fond smile touched his lips. "Delicious."

Evelyn didn't quite believe him. She couldn't picture the elegant Adrian enjoying such a thing. While highly nutritious, most Southerners saw them as nothing more than creepy-crawlies.

"Have you eaten?" Adrian asked. He took off his glasses, revealing his striking "peach blossom" eyes. Without the frames to temper them, the alluring, almost breathtaking brilliance of his gaze was laid bare.

Evelyn’s eyes flickered, and she stammered a bit. "Pupae are hard to find, and they use so much oil... I couldn't bring myself to eat them."

Adrian chuckled. His voice was low and resonant, sounding as if he were whispering directly into her ear. The vibration of it sent a flush creeping up her neck.

Feeling a sudden, inexplicable surge of shy irritation, Evelyn blurted out, "The wheat harvest starts tomorrow! I won't have time to cook for you for a while."

"I understand," Adrian replied, his voice still laced with that quiet, lingering amusement.

"If you really like the pupae, I’ll try to find more after the harvest. People say they’re very nourishing—high protein, good for the health."

Adrian’s smile deepened. He toyed with one of the small sauerkraut buns. "I like the buns, too."

"Then I’ll make you a larger batch next time! Did you get extra food from the canteen?" she asked.

Adrian told her he hadn't needed to. They talked for over ten minutes, a conversation of domestic trifles that carried Adrian through his lunch. Before she hung up, Evelyn promised him a meal of red-braised pork once the harvest ended, mentioning she was saving her meat coupons just for him.

Hearing that she was skimping on her own meals to save coupons for him made the dark intensity in Adrian’s eyes soften like ink dissolving in water. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a stack of his own meat and grain coupons, deciding to have Barrett deliver them to her.

Suddenly, he paused. He realized the entire reason he had called was to tell her about Seraphina’s reassignment. But he had spent the whole time talking about food. He pressed his fingers to his brow; perhaps the recent workload was finally dulling his mind.

Before Barrett left, Adrian called him back into the office. Along with the coupons, he handed over twenty dollars in cash.

"The harvest is grueling," Adrian said. "Make sure Evelyn eats well. She’s young and hasn't done this kind of labor before. Keep an eye on her for me, Barrett."

Barrett breathed a secret sigh of relief. If the Mayor had asked him to excuse Evelyn from work entirely, it would have been a political nightmare during the harvest. Asking for a little extra care, however, was something he could manage.

The harvest began. At the first crack of dawn, the entire village’s labor force was deployed to the golden fields. The men handled the heavy reaping, swinging sickles to fell the stalks in rhythmic sweeps. The women followed behind to bind the wheat into sheaves, which the men then piled into great, golden stacks.

In years past, Seraphina had been a mere visitor, exempt from the grime. But the world had changed. Looking out over the endless, shimmering sea of gold, her skin crawled. Beside her, Caleb and Julian—who had never touched a farm tool in their lives—looked just as ill. Julian’s expression was grim as he stared at the sickle in his hand, having no idea how to even begin.

"What if I don't know how to bind the wheat?" Seraphina whispered, her face pale with dread.

Dominic, who had a few years of experience, tried to be patient. "Barrett will have someone show you the ropes."

Julian scanned the field until he spotted Evelyn nearby. Hoping for strength in numbers—or perhaps a bit of help—he led Seraphina toward her.

Evelyn was also a novice, but she was prepared. Seraphina noticed that Evelyn and Tess were wearing kerchiefs wrapped around their heads, shielding most of their faces.

"Evelyn, what are you wearing on your faces?" Seraphina asked, her voice trembling with a familiar, manufactured grievance. "Why didn't I get one?"