"So plum blossoms have so many particular requirements..." Clarice looked astonished.
"Probably because your homeland doesn't have plum blossoms."
"That's true. Not only can you not see plum blossoms, but the flowers planted in the royal court are mostly ornamental. Even in the entire imperial capital's outskirts, flower varieties are quite limited."
Mentioning her homeland, Clarice gently shook her head.
"When ladies make sachets, they can only choose the most fragrant from those few flower types."
"Even so, compared to plum blossom fragrance, they fall far short."
Rrakavasha gently supported a plum blossom with his bamboo knife. His wrist moved slightly as he cleanly plucked it.
"If you like them, you can take some plum tree saplings from here to plant back home."
"That's still far off!" Clarice's cheeks quietly flushed for a moment. "Since my school registration transferred here, I don't plan to return home for now."
"No rush. During the period I'm away on business... if you graduate and I haven't returned yet, feel free to come up the mountain and take some saplings."
"Let's talk about it then. I'll go pick plum blossoms following Mr. Rrakavasha's instructions first."
"Here, tools."
Rrakavasha handed over the bamboo knife and a slightly smaller flower basket.
"No need, I brought scissors." Clarice raised the small shears in her hand.
"Best not to use metal implements. Contact with plum blossoms will more or less affect their quality."
"Eh, there's such a thing... Thank you for the reminder, Mr. Rrakavasha!"
"It's nothing."
Clarice accepted the bamboo knife. Seeing her light figure nimbly moving among the flower branches, Rrakavasha's eyes floated with faint amusement.
Looking down at the already-full bamboo basket, he stored it in folded space and retrieved a new one.
Today, he planned to harvest considerably more plum blossoms than usual.
After all, with death approaching, the plum blossom wine he'd send Teacher afterward, today's batch would be the last he could personally make.
Under the premise of not affecting flavor with raw materials, he'd harvest as much as possible and do his utmost.
...
Near noon, the two returned to the bamboo house with their harvest.
Rrakavasha poured the plum blossoms into a water basin, patiently rinsing and filtering out impurities before using an absorbent cloth to drain the moisture, then dividing them into different wine jars.
Next, he added fine granulated sugar to the jars for sugar pickling, a process requiring about 48 hours to effectively remove astringency.
"Mr. Rrakavasha, washing and draining could probably be completed using that miraculous appliance in your home."
Watching his fluid movements, Clarice felt somewhat puzzled.
"Does the automatic machine damage plum blossom quality?"
"Not at all."
Rrakavasha chuckled softly.
"Doing it by hand is more meaningful and heartfelt. It's also part of life's pleasures."
"In ancient times, before human civilization became advanced, many elderly people would tend a garden plot, personally working with things they loved."
"You're what? You look like a twenty-year-old youth, you can't remotely be called old!"
"..."
The young woman spoke without malice. Rrakavasha only smiled without responding.
In truth, he was already very, very old.
So old that in just a few more days, he'd return to dust.
Most things that needed doing before death were already complete. Thinking carefully, seemingly not much regret remained.
If pressed, it would be his inability to dissuade Teacher from her obsession with resurrecting her relatives.
Besides, that couldn't even be called true resurrection in any real sense...
Rrakavasha sealed the final wine jar, moving it successively to the corner wall to settle.
"Stay for lunch before leaving, girl."
"Mm~ I'll help assist."
Clarice didn't dwell on age matters; she didn't care anyway.
Entering the rear kitchen, the two prepared the main meal together before Rrakavasha began preparing materials for pastries.
Fallen plum blossoms, perilla plum powder, soybeans, and a tightly sealed bottle of liquid.
"Mr. Rrakavasha, what's in this bottle?"
"Water from melted snow that fell on plum blossoms. I only managed to collect this one bottle last year."
"...Last year!" Clarice looked stunned. "With ingredients this troublesome and particular, is this a newly developed pastry?"
"You could say that."
Rrakavasha first washed and soaked the soybeans, added plum blossom snow water and ground them into paste, then added sugar and perilla plum powder.
He unconsciously hummed a tune softly, occasionally murmuring something in low tones, the syllables blurred and unclear.
While humming, he stir-fried it dry and kneaded it into dough, placed it in molds to cool, pressed several fallen plum blossoms on top, wrapped it in oil paper, and set it aside.
The entire process flowed like water. Clarice watched mesmerized. When she came to her senses and checked the time, she discovered dozens of minutes had passed.
"Mr. Rrakavasha, the song you just sang sounded somewhat melancholic."
"I was singing?"
"Not only singing, but you also seemed to be reciting poetry too, probably verse, though I couldn't hear clearly."
"Hmm...?" Rrakavasha tilted his head, stroking his chin as he recalled, but had no impression.
Strange.
Could the newly switched medication's effectiveness be poor, unable to suppress senile dementia symptoms?
Forget it. At this point, it didn't matter as long as no major mistakes occurred.
Yu Qingtu wouldn't visit again in the near future. Actually, he could go without medication, except his elderly, decrepit body couldn't accomplish anything.
To avoid lying bedridden waiting for death, the medication that should be used still must be used.
"Let's eat first. The plum-pickled soybean cake I just made needs to settle for a moment so the flavors stabilize, perfect for an after-meal dessert."
This lunch, the two ate very warmly.
At least, that's how Clarice felt.
Thinking of the future living in seclusion at the bamboo house together with Rrakavasha, spending their remaining years together, she couldn't even suppress her upturned lips.
This was also the future she wanted. Just thinking about it brought happiness.
Far from conflict and complex interpersonal relations, peacefully staying together in these mountain forests.
However, Clarice didn't know Rrakavasha's feelings while eating this meal.
...Probably the last lunch spent together with Clarice.
In this life, aside from the highly senior Yu Qingtu, the only one who truly counted as a friend was probably Clarice.
This was also why Rrakavasha had asked the young woman to stay for lunch before leaving.
A silent farewell.
Only, Rrakavasha had forgotten one thing.
Clarice had said she'd be his clothing model.
Since that day she'd measured his body dimensions, she'd never mentioned it again.
No wonder he'd unconsciously overlooked it, thinking the young woman had only been momentarily interested.
"Mr. Rrakavasha, while you're away, I'll help look after the plum grove."
"No need."
"It won't be a problem, it won't take up too much of my time."
"Really, no need. I commissioned a... robot from the Interastral Peace Corporation. It will faithfully execute commands, including tending the plum grove."
"...Alright then."
Hearing the Interastral Peace Corporation's name, Clarice understood.
She'd heard the Corporation's footprint spanned the entire universe, controlling advanced technology and unimaginable wealth.
Not just her home planet, this planet also bore the Corporation's presence.
"Time's about right. Try the plum-pickled soybean cake's flavor."
Rrakavasha removed several pieces of pastry from the molds and brought them to the dining table.
"See if it suits your taste. I'll process the remainder."
Returning to the rear kitchen, he rewrapped the remaining pastries in oil paper and stored them in a special preservation container before returning to the table.
Unexpectedly, Clarice sat motionless, tears sliding down her cheeks.
"Why are you crying?"
...
...