An Imperfect Start (Part 2) (Please Bookmark, Follow, Recommend, and Vote!)

"Make my own wooden plate?"

Young Newton's request might have seemed rather demanding to most people, but Xu Yun did not hesitate for long this time and readily agreed.

"No problem. Leave it to me."

Xu Yun knew very well that making one's own wooden plate was an extremely distinctive yet common practice in this era.

Britain in 1665 was still in the first stage of colonial expansion. It would not be until after 1689 that its national economy saw a major rise.

Thus, at this stage, most ordinary British people were still living in an impoverished age where they bathed once every five months.

To put it more harshly, calling them barbarians would not have been entirely unfair.

In this era, wealthy people used pewter plates. They looked rather high-end, but they had one fatal flaw:

Foods high in acid could cause lead to leach into the food, resulting in lead poisoning or even death. Since this happened most easily with tomatoes, tomatoes were considered poisonous for the next two hundred years.

Meanwhile, ordinary manor owners like Newton—or rather, the Isaac family—mostly used wooden food trays, hollowing out a block of wood into the shape of a bowl.

These trays were also often made from stale homemade bread:

Over time, bread became extremely hard, and hollowing out the middle allowed it to be used for a long while.

Once the bread bowl could no longer hold anything, people ground it into powder and fed it to pigs.

Those who did not raise pigs periodically collected their discarded bread and sold it all at once when the time was right, rather like local wastepaper recycling.

It could not be helped.

In an age with such limited productive capacity, so-called manor owners were only slightly better off than ordinary people.

It was like landlords in ancient China. They still had to work the fields in everyday life, rarely ate meat, and often had nothing more than clear broth and plain water.

Of course.

Newton's family was not quite that poor, but as mentioned before, the family funds were mainly in the hands of his mother, Hannah. Newton himself remained a miserable pauper until 1669.

So Newton's demand that Xu Yun make his own tableware was not really contemptuous or abusive, because Newton did the same himself.

Just as Xu Yun's thoughts began to wander, Young Newton suddenly recalled a rumor about Easterners and asked:

"By the way, Fat Fish, can you cook?"

"I told you, it's Fei Yu... Forget it. Fat Fish it is."

Xu Yun sighed softly, giving up on correcting Newton's pronunciation, then nodded.

"Of course I can."

Xu Yun's answer brimmed with confidence, because his cooking really was much better than average—especially when the comparison was seventeenth-century British food.

This had been mentioned before.

In his previous life, Xu Yun had been an exchange student at Trinity College for a time, so he had experienced Great Britain's "cuisine."

As for his impression of it...

In the 21st Century, Britain had a nickname: the Food Desert.

But many people who said British food was bad had never actually eaten British food.

That was obviously not objective. To judge a country's cuisine, one should taste it personally before having the right to comment.

And once you had actually tasted British food, you would discover—

British food was fucking awful.

Honestly.

Britain's Fish and Chips were indeed quite good, Yorkshire Pudding suited Chinese tastes fairly well, and a proper English Breakfast had nothing inherently wrong with it. If you could not get used to it, that was at most a matter of personal taste, not dark cuisine.

But every other British dish was truly hard to describe—Stargazy Pie was only beginner level, while the Hellfire Series was what really shattered one's worldview.

So during his two years in Britain, Xu Yun had forcibly developed quite respectable cooking skills. He had even used them to win over a junior student—though much of the credit went to teacher Wang Gang on Bilibili and his Planetary Engine Stove.

In short.

Drawing on the cooking experience he had accumulated in his previous life, Xu Yun finally spoke the most confident words he had uttered since transmigrating:

"Mr. Newton, to be honest, my homeland is a powerful nation renowned for its cuisine, and I learned cooking from a young age.

Take Britain, for example. This place is by the sea, and preparing offshore and coastal creatures happens to be my specialty.

For instance, braised lobster, stewed sea crab, steamed Fujianese people..."

He then paused, recalling his mission, and continued with a hinting tone:

"Besides cooking, I also have some knowledge of academia—I am a teaching assistant at the Faculty of Natural Sciences at Leiden University, and I am quite proficient in both mathematics and physics. If Mr. Newton is interested..."

However, before Xu Yun could finish, Newton lowered his eyelids and interrupted him.

"Thank you. I understand.

How about this, Fat Fish? Tomorrow, I'll prepare some ingredients for you, and then we'll see what you can do. I read some ancient books at Cambridge University that said Eastern cuisine is entirely different from what is commonly seen in Britain. If I have the chance, I would still like to taste it.

Also, the orchard trees need tending. You must inspect the grounds at least twice a day."

The focus of Newton's words, inside and out, was all on Xu Yun's work, as though he had not heard the latter half of Xu Yun's introduction at all.

Xu Yun nodded mechanically while blinking in confusion.

This isn't how the script is supposed to go!

Under normal circumstances, shouldn't Newton have been shocked upon hearing his introduction? Shouldn't he have looked Xu Yun over with a gaze mixed with surprise, suspicion, and scrutiny, then thrown him a problem he had been stuck on for ages? After Xu Yun solved it, shouldn't he have been overjoyed, shouted that his path was no longer lonely, pulled Xu Yun into an all-night candlelit discussion, and slept beside him—only for Xu Yun to wake the next day and find the mission complete?

But Xu Yun quickly understood the reason behind it.

There was no other reason.

Because the other party was Newton!

Newton, who was so arrogant that he even disdained his own teacher!

He had definitely heard the latter half of Xu Yun's words clearly, and he probably did not doubt them—but so what?

There were plenty of students at Cambridge University who were Newton's peers or even his seniors. Had anyone ever seen Newton pay them any mind?

In Newton's eyes,

If there was a problem he could not solve, then aside from a select few, no one else could solve it either—and those select few were either at the Royal Society of London, the Berlin Academy of Sciences, or the Parisian Academic Union. In any case, they could not possibly be around him, much less be his age!

This was the conceit born of extreme confidence, yet Newton was worthy of such conceit.

Newton's academic attitude toward others was like that of a person walking down the road who would not notice the ants beneath his feet. In local terms:

Summer insects cannot discuss ice.

This was Newton. This was the real Newton.

A genius who could not be judged by common sense, whose warped personality made him unlikable, yet who still shone with incomparable brilliance!

And so, naturally, Xu Yun was overlooked by Newton as just another ordinary person.

By this point, Xu Yun had also roughly determined his own status:

He was a lodger somewhere between a guest and a servant. He did not need to bow as respectfully to Little Ox or the others as a servant would, but he still had to help out with some work in daily life.

If Young Newton was satisfied, Xu Yun might even have to take on part-time work as a cook.

As for when to make his entry through academia, he would probably have to wait and observe for now.

The opportunity would certainly come, but there were also many uncertainties.

In short.

This was not an ideal start. If he wanted to complete the mission, he would have to use his brain a little.