"Huh..." Standing in front of the villa door, Jiang Hai looked up at the slightly overcast sky and exhaled a breath of white air.
Of course, he wasn't practicing any cultivation just now. Although the dragon orb inside him had a faint fairy-like aura, he lacked the abilities of a true fairy hero—he couldn't move through or ride the mist.
He wasn't practicing any fairy magic either. The only reason his breath turned white was because the weather was getting colder.
Pulling his hoodie tighter, Jiang Hai shifted his stance, stretched his legs, and prepared to go out for a run.
It had been almost a week since he last went to town to hold that meeting with the townspeople.
In the past week, Winthrop had changed a lot.
Some townspeople had been hesitant, whispering that they felt pressured by Jiang Hai's stern warnings—or perhaps even threats. But eventually, they settled down and returned to their previous lives. No one mentioned the chemical plant anymore.
They were satisfied with their current peaceful life and didn't want it disturbed by the chemical plant, especially since Jiang Hai had made it clear that the plant was absolutely not allowed to enter.
Though the issue had been resolved, a certain awkwardness still lingered between Jiang Hai's manor and the townspeople.
The townsfolk weren't sure if Jiang Hai was still angry, and Jiang Hai himself was too indifferent to care.
After handling the situation, Jiang Hai returned to an unusually quiet home life, rarely leaving the manor these days.
Still, staying home every day had its pleasures. After some simple exercises, he would run along the river in the manor. But just as he was about to start his run today, he spotted a tractor slowly approaching from a distance, pulling a load of fresh grass.
"Hey boss, it's been a while since I saw you get up and run," Robbins-Garcia called out from the tractor, laughing. Hearing this, Jiang Hai smiled awkwardly.
Lately, Jiang Hai had been trying to live a more relaxed life. Every night, two of the eight girls—Aphra, Dinah, Hilda, Becky, Sheila, Oshilia, Bridget, and Janice—would come to sleep in his room.
They'd leave quietly in the morning, always escorted by Xiao Huang and Xiao Bai, who got up early to ensure their safe return. Jiang Hai wasn't at ease if they went back alone. With such soft company in his arms every night, it was no wonder he rarely felt motivated to get up and run.
If it weren't for the fact that last night was the last night of intimacy with Aphra and the others, who had been busy and hadn't come to his place, he probably wouldn't have felt the urge to go running today. This was the kind of thing he only did during his abstinence periods.
"Ready to drop the hay off now?" Jiang Hai glanced at the load behind Robbins-Garcia and wisely changed the subject.
"Yeah. Winter's coming soon. We have 27,000 cows to feed this year. The grass here is so good that I don't plan to buy any supplemental feed like crushed corn anymore. There's a big difference in how much grass we'll have this winter," Robbins-Garcia said softly, glancing up at the sky.
Following his gaze, Jiang Hai felt the weight of the cold. Boston didn't get much rain in the summer, but snow in winter was abundant.
Last year's snowfall, if it had happened anywhere else, would have been called a blizzard. Here in Winthrop, though, the people seemed used to it. Such heavy snow wasn't rare—every year, the ground would be blanketed in thick snow.
The snow protected the land beneath and enriched its fertility. This meant better grass, food, and vegetables the next year. So, in the U.S., and especially in Winthrop, people didn't dislike snow as much as outsiders might imagine.
At Jiang Hai's Tainlong Manor, Robbins-Garcia and his team had long since adapted to the winters. Last year, they stocked plenty of grass and feed—a mixture of crushed corn and grains—which was expensive but essential for feeding the cows in winter.
However, after tasting the benefits of fresh grass, Robbins-Garcia decided not to buy supplemental feed this year.
It was better to feed them fresh grass directly. Though the amount required was larger, they had already started pulling grass half a month ago.
If Jiang Hai hadn't run into him today, he might never have known that Robbins-Garcia was already preparing for winter.
"I'll help!" Jiang Hai smiled, genuinely interested in building up his manor. Robbins-Garcia gladly welcomed the help and motioned for Jiang Hai to hop on the tractor.
Jiang Hai clambered onto the tractor's bucket, piled with green grass, and followed Robbins-Garcia to the cowshed.
Because the weather was colder, the cattle would leave the shed later than in summer—around eight o'clock. It was only six now, so there was still time.
As Jiang Hai hauled the grass into a warehouse next to the cowshed, he noticed Bell and Harriman had been waiting for some time. They weren't idle either—Philemon and Burke-Daler were still cutting grass in the pasture.
They needed to make the grass into straw bricks—tying it up and compressing it into squares.
Tying grass like this wasn't a special craft here; other cattle and horse farmers could do it too. But unlike Jiang Hai, who tied fresh green grass, most tied dried hay.
Seeing Jiang Hai arrive, Bell and Harriman laughed. With his help, the work would be much easier.
They jumped off the tractor, and together the three moved the green grass into the warehouse.
As Robbins-Garcia went back for another load, Jiang Hai followed Bell and Harriman to learn how to tie the grass.
Wearing gloves, Jiang Hai tried his hand, but quickly realized it wasn't easy.
First, grass was soft—unlike hay, which was stiff and easier to shape. Morning dew made the grass slippery, so tying it was tricky.
Second, the grass length was inconsistent. Hay lengths varied too, but hay was hard enough to be cut evenly with a guillotine. Grass cut by guillotine was uneven.
Even veterans like Bell and Harriman weren't very fast, and Jiang Hai, a novice, was much slower.
While they had tied two bundles, Jiang Hai had only managed one—and looked a bit sheepish.
"Phew, this is way harder than running," Jiang Hai said, standing up and wiping sweat from his forehead. Bell and Harriman laughed.
"Boss, Halloween is next week. Should we prepare?" Bell suddenly changed the subject, looking at Jiang Hai.
Jiang Hai was momentarily stunned.
"Halloween?" he said. He knew about the festival but had never really celebrated it.
Though it was known in China, few people there truly celebrated Halloween. Some games included special events for it, but Jiang Hai wasn't interested.
Halloween fell on November 1st, but on the night of October 31st, children in town would dress up in monster costumes, running door to door shouting "trick or treat."
People would give candy, or sometimes coins, to send the kids on their way.
Since Jiang Hai's manor was outside Winthrop, he figured no children would come knocking. That was why Bell asked.
Last year, no one had celebrated Halloween at the manor. Jiang Hai didn't want to integrate with the town then, and few people knew him.
But this year, with his growing ties to Winthrop, it might be different. If kids did come, he wanted to be prepared.
"Maybe," Jiang Hai said, rubbing his chin. He was a homebody who disliked trouble, but he wasn't a recluse. If some little visitors came, he wouldn't turn them away. Still, it was unlikely given how far out he lived.
"I'll go buy some candy soon," Jiang Hai said with a smile, clapping his hands.
His household hadn't prepared any, so he'd need to head into town to get some. Bell and Harriman chuckled at this.
November was a festive month in the U.S.
Halloween was just the start, followed by Thanksgiving on the fourth Thursday, and then Christmas and New Year's at the end of the year.
Before the new year, the manor would undergo its next budget review. Jiang Hai was generous and would surely ensure his staff had a good year—no reminders needed.
"By the way, boss, you'll need to get some pumpkin lanterns too. They're pretty important," Harriman said with a buzz, as if afraid Jiang Hai might forget.
Jiang Hai smiled in response.
Though he didn't know why pumpkin lanterns were necessary, he'd follow local customs nonetheless.
(To be continued.)