As the fierce winds of the night gradually died down, the clouds that perpetually shrouded Gotham actually dispersed somewhat. The next day brought Gotham some rare good weather, though there was still a light mist.
Schiller got up early, put on his leather boots, picked up a gardening shovel, and went down to the garden.
In the Tool Room nearby, Merkel picked up the pot used for boiling milk, poured the milk into a kettle, then carried the milk kettle and a bag of tea beneath the oak tree in the garden, where Schiller was sorting out the hose he had brought out yesterday.
Merkel scattered a handful of tea leaves into a cup, then poured steaming milk into it. White vapor rose up, and the fragrance of English milk tea drifted through the air.
Schiller took the tiny cup, whose handle could only fit one finger, and shook his head. "I really didn't know people drank milk tea in the morning. Are there no coffee ingredients left at the manor?"
After saying that, he took a sip of the English milk tea. It really did taste quite good. It was not sweet, and the flavor of the tea was more pronounced, making it barely acceptable even to Schiller, who disliked milk. Merkel shook his head and said, "No, sir. The coffee ingredients and machine are both ready. It's just that this weather reminds me of my hometown."
"England was always rainy and overcast like this. On the farm owned by my family, the weather would clear up a little after a strong wind, and everyone would get up early."
"At that time, the farm workers would go to the neighbors' homes to buy freshly milked milk. Honestly, it tasted much better than what we're drinking now..."
Schiller took another