Chapter 857: Powerful Confidence
At night, in the hunting lodge, the fire crackled in the fireplace. The cabin was made entirely of pine wood.
As the temperature rose, the walls released that distinct pine scent—something wallpapered or painted city houses could never offer.
Everything felt natural. Primitive, even. But that was part of the charm.
The dining table was a massive slab of solid wood, thick and wide enough to require four or five people to wrap their arms around it. It had only been lightly treated, so the tree rings on the surface were still clearly visible.
Outside the door, cooks and servants brought in dish after dish—each made from parts of the animals they had hunted.
Roast rabbit, venison leg, minced deer neck—this was their spring hunting bounty.
Wooden bowls, plates, even soup tureens—everything added to the rustic atmosphere. The only pity was that the table had just two men sitting at it.
“Most people think the leg is the best part of a deer. And for roasting or pan-searing, maybe that’s true,” said Mr. Wadrick as he worked on the freshly served minced deer neck meat.
The raw meat had a deep red hue, darker than beef—almost like the flesh of certain deep-sea fish.