Chapter 18
"So plum blossoms have that many details…" Clarisse looked surprised.
"It's probably because there are no plum blossoms where you're from."
"That's true. Not only are there no plum blossoms, most flowers grown in the palace are purely ornamental. The entire imperial city and its outskirts only have a very limited variety."
When she mentioned her home planet, Clarisse shook her head gently.
"The materials women use to make sachets can only be chosen from those few flower types, picking the ones with the strongest scent."
"Even then, they still fall far short of plum blossom fragrance."
Kanzaki Tomomu lightly lifted a plum blossom with his small knife, gave a deft twist of his wrist, and plucked it cleanly.
"If you like them, you can take some saplings back to your home planet and plant them there."
"That's still a long way off!" Clarisse's cheeks flushed faintly. "Because my school records have been transferred here, I'm not planning to return home for now."
"There's no rush. While I'm away handling business… if you graduate before I come back, feel free to come up the mountain and take some saplings."
"We can talk about it later. I'll start picking the blossoms the way you said."
"Here, take the tools."
Kanzaki Tomomu handed her the small knife and a slightly smaller flower basket.
"No need. I brought my own shears." Clarisse lifted the small pair of scissors in her hand.
"It's better not to use metal tools. Contact with the blossoms can affect their quality to some degree."
"Oh, there's even something like that… Thank you for the reminder, Mr. Kanzaki!"
"It's nothing."
Clarisse took the knife. Watching her light, graceful figure weave skillfully among the flowering branches, a faint smile touched Kanzaki Tomomu's eyes.
He looked down at the already full bamboo basket, stored it in his folding space, and took out a new one.
This year he planned to harvest far more plum blossoms than usual.
After all, he was about to die. The plum blossom brew he would send to his teacher from now on could only be made by his own hands this one last time.
As long as the raw materials didn't affect the flavor, he would pick as many as he possibly could.
...
Close to noon, the two of them returned to the bamboo house with their harvest.
Kanzaki Tomomu poured the plum blossoms into a water basin, patiently rinsed them to remove any impurities, then used absorbent cloths to drain the moisture and divided them into different wine jars.
Next he added fine sugar for the sugaring process, which would take about forty-eight hours and remove the astringency nicely.
"Mr. Kanzaki, couldn't the washing and draining be done with that wonderful device you have at home?"
Watching his smooth, practiced movements, Clarisse looked a little puzzled.
"Would an automatic machine ruin the quality of the blossoms?"
"Not at all."
Kanzaki Tomomu gave a soft laugh.
"Doing it by hand feels more meaningful and more sincere. That's part of the joy of living."
"In the ancient times before human civilization had advanced very far, many elderly people would tend a small garden or a patch of land and work with the things they loved by hand."
"Mr. Kanzaki, you're only a few years older than me and look just like a twenty-year-old. You're nowhere near old!"
"…"
The girl spoke without thinking. Kanzaki Tomomu simply smiled and did not reply.
In truth, he was already very, very old.
Old enough that in just a few more days he would return to dust.
Most of the things he needed to do before dying were already finished. When he thought about it carefully, he did not seem to have many regrets left.
If he had to name one, it was that he had never been able to persuade his teacher to stop that forbidden research.
Besides, it could not even be called a true revival…
Kanzaki Tomomu sealed the last wine jar and carried them one by one to the corner to rest.
"Stay for lunch before you go, kid."
"Mm~ I'll help out."
Clarisse did not dwell on the age topic. She did not care about it anyway.
They went into the kitchen together. After preparing the main dishes, Kanzaki Tomomu began gathering the ingredients for the pastries.
Fallen plum petals, perilla plum powder, soybeans, and a tightly sealed bottle of liquid.
"Mr. Kanzaki, what's in this bottle?"
"Water collected from snow that fell on the plum blossoms. I only managed to gather this one bottle last year."
"…Last year!" Clarisse looked stunned. "The ingredients are this troublesome and particular — is this a brand-new pastry recipe?"
"You could say that."
Kanzaki Tomomu first washed and soaked the soybeans, then blended them with the plum-blossom snow water into a paste. He added sugar and perilla plum powder.
Without realizing it, he began to hum a soft tune. Occasionally he murmured something under his breath, the syllables too faint to make out clearly.
While humming, he stir-fried the mixture until dry, kneaded it into balls, placed them in molds to cool, pressed several fallen petals on top, wrapped them in oil paper, and set them aside.
The entire process flowed smoothly. Clarisse watched in fascination. When she finally looked at the time, she realized dozens of minutes had already passed.
"Mr. Kanzaki, the song you were humming just now sounded a little sad."
"Was I humming?"
"Not only that, it sounded like you were reciting poetry too. I couldn't quite make out the words, though."
"Hm…?" Kanzaki Tomomu tilted his head and rubbed his chin, trying to recall, but he had no memory of it.
Strange.
Could the new medicine be losing its effectiveness and failing to suppress the symptoms of old age?
Never mind. At this point it did not matter. As long as nothing major went wrong, it was fine.
Yu Qingtu would not be coming anytime soon. In fact, he did not even need the medicine anymore, but an aged and frail body would make it impossible to do anything.
To avoid spending his final days lying in bed waiting for death, he still had to use the medicine.
"Let's eat first. The plum-preserved soybean cakes I made earlier need a little time to set so the flavors can stabilize. They'll make the perfect dessert after the meal."
The two of them ate the lunch in warm companionship.
At least, that was how Clarisse felt.
Thinking about the future — living together with Mr. Kanzaki in this bamboo house, spending the rest of their days side by side — she could not even keep the corners of her mouth from lifting.
This was the future she wanted. Just imagining it made her happy.
Far away from conflict and complicated relationships, living peacefully together in the mountains and forests.
However, Clarisse had no idea what Kanzaki Tomomu was feeling as he ate this meal.
…This was most likely the last lunch he would ever share with her.
In this life, aside from the extremely senior Yu Qingtu, the only person who truly counted as a friend was probably Clarisse.
That was also why Kanzaki Tomomu had asked the girl to stay for lunch before leaving.
A silent farewell.
Only, Kanzaki Tomomu had forgotten one thing.
Clarisse had once said she wanted him to be her fitting model.
Ever since the day she took his measurements, she had never mentioned it again.
No wonder he had subconsciously overlooked it and assumed the girl had only been momentarily enthusiastic.
"Mr. Kanzaki, while you're away, I can look after the plum grove for you."
"There's no need."
"It's no trouble. It won't take up much of my time."
"Really, there's no need. I've already ordered a… robot from the Interastral Peace Corporation. It will faithfully carry out its orders, including taking care of the plum grove."
"…Alright then."
Hearing the name of the Interastral Peace Corporation, Clarisse understood.
The company's reach stretched across the universe. It possessed cutting-edge technology and unimaginable wealth.
Its presence could be found not only on her home planet, but on this one as well.
"Time's about right. Try the plum-preserved soybean cakes and see if they suit your taste."
Kanzaki Tomomu took several pieces out of the molds and set them on the table.
"Tell me if the flavor works. I'll take care of the rest."
He returned to the kitchen, re-wrapped the remaining cakes in oil paper, placed them in a special preservation box, and came back to the table.
To his surprise, Clarisse was sitting completely still. Tears were sliding down her cheeks.
"Why are you crying?"
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