Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing - Chapter 186

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

The Successor? I’d Rather Just Relax — Episode 186

Lion spread a cloth wrapping across the kitchen floor and arranged the soybeans on top of it.
He’d made it larger than a standard wrapping, just to be safe, and it proved remarkably sturdy.

“Good call making that cloth wrapping.”

Normally, he would have used the sack the soybeans came in or a piece of vinyl, but nothing suitable was at hand here.
Of course, he could have asked Andrea Hoffman to prepare something, and she would have done so carefully, but it was faster and more reliable for Lion to cut the material himself.

‘Besides, I needed something to do.’

Even just sitting with a book, Elvia or Ricshel would come by and give him disapproving looks.
He thought it was perhaps excessive, but he couldn’t say he didn’t understand it at all, so he accepted the situation with grace and passed the time stitching whenever he could.
Lion spread all the soybeans out, shaped them appropriately, and then draped another cloth wrapping over the top, covering them completely.
And then, finally…….

Whoosh.

Lion removed his shoes and pulled on thick socks with careful precision.
The thicker cotton of the thick socks wrapped his feet in comfortable warmth.
This way, he wouldn’t slip on the cloth wrapping, and it would also prevent any unexpected accidents.

“All right. Let’s begin.”

Lion carefully stepped onto the cloth wrapping.
The first thing he felt was the warmth of the hot soybeans within the cloth.
As his weight pressed down and they began to crush slightly, a ticklish sensation rippled across the sole of his foot inside the thick socks.

“Oh, this is harder to balance than I thought?”

Now he understood why elders wore thick socks when working the meju.
The damp soybeans wrapped in the sack had been quite slippery to work on.

‘Don’t fall. Be careful.’

If his family heard the sound of him falling in the kitchen…… embarrassment aside, he might end up grounded again.

‘This time it probably won’t end in just a week.’

With that thought, his movements became instinctively cautious.

Chirp.

As Lion’s motions grew more deliberate, Nature, who had been observing her master’s antics from the corner, flew over and snagged his finger, lifting it up.

“Hmm? You want me to hold on?”
Chirp-chirp!

The gesture looked so much like she was steadying him that Lion couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“You’re the only one I can count on.”

Lion extended his hand to the side and gratefully accepted Nature’s thoughtful support.
And then…….

“Oh.”

Remarkably, his balance really did become much easier to maintain!
Nature must have controlled the wind to help in some way!

“You can do things like this now?”

It required far more delicate work than simply hurling someone away or trapping them in place.
Nature had to calculate exactly when Lion would stumble, which direction he’d tilt—every detail.
It wasn’t mere technique; it demanded deep communion between master and spirit.
So his amazement was inevitable.

“Chirp~!”

Nature spread her wings wide at Lion’s admiration, chirping smugly as if to say she hadn’t spent her time at the hotel merely babying an egg.
The implication made Lion laugh aloud even as he worked, unable to help himself.
After that bout of laughter, making the meju felt all the more enjoyable.

“All right, let’s focus again.”

He first pressed down hard on the thickest part where the beans were most concentrated, compacting them so they’d be easier to tread, then turned his attention to the edges.
His movements, clumsy at first, grew steadily more practiced as he continued.
He hadn’t realized at the start—you couldn’t just trust your weight and stamp about wildly.

‘There’s a knack to it.’

Lion distributed pressure evenly between his heels and the balls of his feet, crushing beans and shaping the mass in steady rhythm.
Once the crushed beans began to look more like proper meju than pulp, he moved to the next stage.
He stepped down from the meju and folded back the cloth wrapping, checking that the beans had broken down evenly.
Though this was his first time making meju from scratch, he’d eaten enough dishes made with it that something like instinct guided his hands.

“Yes. This should do.”

Some parts were completely pulverized, while here and there the texture of individual beans still lingered.
The moisture had been properly wrung out earlier—there was no excessive wetness to the touch.
Later, when he pressed it into the mold and packed it, it would bind well, and the proper airflow needed for fermentation would circulate freely.

‘Of course, the real skill comes in raising the meju.’

In any craft, a solid foundation cuts down the chances of failure.

‘Still, this feels like it might turn out well.’

Perhaps because he’d been planning this work for so long, he felt no sense of being lost—only unfamiliar territory, no actual obstacles.
Lion transferred the beans into a square wooden mold.
He pressed and smoothed the meju—now the texture of clay—into the frame until it was packed firmly throughout.
He shaped it evenly, taking care no cracks would form.
As delicately as a master potter would comb precious ceramic.
And here came the critical part…….

‘Don’t be greedy.’

Bigger didn’t mean better meju.
If he wasn’t careful, poor airflow during the raising stage could easily lead to problems in fermentation.

‘So make them a little smaller.’

Fortunately, the wooden mold was adjustable, so Lion shaped the meju slightly smaller than standard size and repeated the process.
Press firmly and pack, smooth away rough edges, arrange them neatly on the cloth wrapping.
Lost in concentration, Lion suddenly found his workspace lined with finished meju—square with gently rounded corners, shaped with considerable care!

“Phew!”

Lion wiped away the sweat with the hem of his shirt and smiled with satisfaction.
With this much, he could make everything he wanted and still have enough to ferment.
Of course, if he went all the way to the fermentation stage, he’d need proper storage jars, but he had ideas about that—for now, he’d focus on the present.

“There we go.”

Lion carefully lifted the finished meju so it wouldn’t crumble, then left the kitchen.
He’d originally planned to take it to the Well outside the kitchen, but he worried the servants might find it inconvenient to have meju sitting out there.

‘It’s not just a few days, after all.’

Meju took about a week just to ferment, and to do the drying properly, he’d need a good month.
He didn’t want the servants bothered with tending to the meju while they worked all that time.
And besides that…….

‘The Well area just won’t do.’

If water splashed on it or the humidity got too high, the inside of the meju might rot.
Or some mold he’d never seen before might take hold.
To guard against that…….

‘There’s only one place that would work.’

The Library.
More precisely, the Cabin at the end of the Labyrinth—his hideout and sanctuary!
Lion stepped into the Library without hesitation.
The end of the Labyrinth greeted him as it always did.
The cool breeze stirred the grass and leaves with a refreshing whisper, and the sunlight was warm.
Thanks to things Lion had made and set up over his visits, the place now had the comforting smell of a lived-in space.
Somewhere between camping and country living, you might say.
Anyway.

“This place is just right.”

Lion went straight into the Cabin.
A warmth washed over him, different from the breeze outside.
He’d been so used to it before that he hadn’t paid attention.

‘This Cabin…….’

He didn’t know how it was built, but the way it regulated temperature was like an ondol!
Of course, there wasn’t an actual fire—it must be Heat Preservation Magic woven into the floor.
But anyway.
There was no better place for drying meju.
Lion spread out the rice straw he’d brought from the kitchen across the floor, then arranged the carefully made meju on top of it.
All he had to do now was let it dry there, turning it regularly until it was ready.

“Phew!”

Today’s work was done!
Lion gazed at the meju with pride shining in his eyes, then left the Cabin.
He could use Fermentation Acceleration to make the sauce faster, but he’d decided to hold off for now.
After all, there were plenty of other things to do here besides the meju!

“Now, shall I try planting some Mushberry Seedlings!”

* * *

One morning, after Lion had been holed up in the Labyrinth for several days.

“How infuriating!”

Freyanya’s temper was frayed.
It wasn’t because her master hadn’t visited her once since returning to the Ester Hotel and her grounding had ended.
Her master was still young, after all.
Of course he had countless things he wanted to do.
With talent overflowing from him like that, she could easily forgive a little neglect on his part.

‘Besides, I’m the one who should be seeking him out.’

So yes, she was truly, genuinely, just a tiny bit hurt—but she wasn’t angry.

‘My good master visits about once a month, after all!’

Her anger stemmed from something else entirely.
The Underworld.
More precisely, Jack—the head of the Underworld.

“Damn it……!”

Freyanya crumpled the letter that had reached her through hidden channels, trembling as she clutched it.
Salamander, reacting to his mistress’s agitation, huffed hot air from his nose atop his pointed hat.

“Return for a regular report, he says?”

Since when had they been doing regular reports in person? Why send a letter like this now?
And of all people, he’d singled her out—not every agent in the Underworld, just her!
By her nature, she would have simply ignored it and stayed put, but unfortunately the Underworld had provided her with quite a bit of equipment.
She’d been given housing, after all, and she couldn’t very well refuse.
Fine. They’d given her money and research funds, so if they asked, she had to comply.
But even so—wasn’t this excessive?

“Why does he have to be so spiteful all of a sudden?”

That was the real problem—the recall order itself sprang from Jack’s spite.
Her living situation had already been decided between the Second Imperial Prince and Jack.
The Underworld had gained insight into House Asteri’s internal affairs, while the Second Imperial Prince had acquired a faster channel to communicate with Jack.
And caught in the middle, mediating between the two, was Freyanya herself.
In other words, she hadn’t just been playing and eating—she’d been working!
The three of them had all benefited from the arrangement!
And on top of that, there was no real reason for a regular report.
He’d already asked about everything down to the smallest detail!

“No! I don’t want to go!”

Freyanya couldn’t even bring herself to throw the letter away; instead, she crumpled it in her fist and buried her face in the pillow.
If she went, there’d be mountains of work waiting.
Most of all, she’d have to deal with that stubborn, temperamental Jack.
Salamander climbed down from his hat and gently patted Freyanya’s cheek with his tiny foreleg.
After receiving the creature’s comfort for a few minutes, Freyanya suddenly lifted her head.

“……But why did he summon me specifically?”

Now that her head had cooled, the question nagged at her.
If anything, Freyanya was currently the one communicating most frequently with the Underworld.
Whether it was about operations or the little incidents that occurred in House Asteri, she reported everything she knew.
Even House Asteri hadn’t bothered to stop her from doing so.
So there shouldn’t be any problem with them, but what else could it be……?

“Surely……!”

Freyanya shot upright.
Wait. There’s one problem. There is!
It’s that incident where Master was confined after visiting the Ester Hotel!

‘Wasn’t that letter sent by the Second Imperial Prince, if I remember right?’

And as far as Freyanya knew, Jack and the Second Imperial Prince were business partners.
Then……!
Was Jack being spiteful because of Master……?

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————