My Contract Husband Resembles the Male Protagonist - Chapter 50
“Aren’t you bored just being with me, Dale?”
“…Do you dislike being with me, Miss Enya?”
“I didn’t ask because of that.”
Dale’s face turned red as he lowered his voice.
“I don’t have friends.”
“Ah…”
Well, that could be so. Dale seemed to choose his acquaintances cautiously.
‘Considering that, he took up my offer pretty well.’
He was like a malfunctioning automatic door.
As I struggled with the large plow in the field, Dale couldn’t stand it and took over.
“Dale sometimes goes to the capital.”
“…..”
“Ah, the Lord mentioned it. When I asked where Dale was because he wasn’t around, he said you might be in the capital.”
“…..”
The air around Dale seemed to turn grim.
“Is that not the case?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Really? I was thinking of asking you to bring some tasty things from there sometimes.”
“I do go occasionally.”
Dale stared at me intently.
“Madame Longbarrin’s pastry shop?”
“Oh, that’s delicious too.”
“Passholter’s cake shop.”
“It’s been so long! That place is really good too!”
How does he know so well?
Does Dale also like desserts?
“Knowing good places to eat is a hobby of mine.”
“Really? It seems that we both enjoy the same food.”
It was fascinating that a man who usually drinks green tea or at most mildly sweet black tea liked sweet desserts.
“Ah, I see. So Dale, you like sweet things and drink bitter tea to balance it out? Right?”
Dale gave a vaguely amused smile in response to my own.
Before long, he had also plowed the remaining land that had been set aside, making it perfect for planting herbs.
But there was a problem.
The shovel was too large, and the herb seedlings were small.
When sowing seeds, I had no choice but to dig large holes.
Even if I managed to plant them with a trowel, when it came time to dig up the crops planted alongside them, the blunt trowel required double the effort.
“I wish it had a sharper edge like this.”
“Should I sharpen it for you?”
Dale asked if he should sharpen the edge.
“Eh, then it might look too much like a weapon. And it would still be awkward to handle.”
I gazed at the soil and gave it some thought.
“Dale, could you make something like this?”
I drew a picture in a mound of dirt.
“Something small, sharp, and that doesn’t strain the wrist too much. Do you have anything like this here?”
“I’ve never seen this before.”
Dale tilted his head.
“Is it a farming tool? It’s unfamiliar to me… Could you tell me what this tool is called?”
“This?”
I pointed at the drawing and grinned.
“It’s called a ‘hoe*.'”
(T/N: Guys it’s only a gardening tool. T^T The romanized word for ‘hoe’ 호미 is ‘Homi’)
***
Hoes are gardening tools that did not exist in this world.
Only large farming tools were available, making it inconvenient for planting herbs and other delicate tasks.
‘Currently, Grunwald isn’t really into extensive crop farming.’
This small gardening tool would be useful.
The next afternoon, as I weeded the garden, a question struck me.
“But how do I make it?”
I visited a nearby blacksmith, but most couldn’t understand my explanation.
It seemed they didn’t know how to make it.
Naturally, I had never made a hoe either.
“I can draw it, though.”
Where could I find a capable blacksmith?
I returned the farming tools I had borrowed from the Llrd’s estate to the storeroom.
I coughed.
The old storeroom was dusty.
Huh?
It seemed slightly tidied.
Cough, cough, cough!
Cough!
I kept coughing due to the dusty air. But.. I thought I heard another voice apart from mine.
Rustle!
At that moment, I heard something scurrying across the floor.
It wasn’t a mouse. The sound was louder.
“Over there!”
I quickly tripped the moving object.
Bang!
“Ouch! W-what the—”
Then I heard a voice groaning in pain.
It wasn’t a voice I recognized. It sounded too young to be a person I know.
“What the hell?!”
As the dust settled, it revealed a person.
It was a young man I had never seen before.
