Dinner time was approaching, but the sun was still scorching hot.

  On the training grounds of the Port Sol military sub-district, a dozen formations of recruits were still sweating profusely, practicing bayonet drills.

  Since taking office as Deputy Commander, this was the first time Antonio had walked across the training grounds.

  He remained expressionless, chest out and head held high, his pace neither fast nor slow. He didn't seem to mind his polished, shiny leather shoes getting covered in dust.

  This was the shortest route from his office to the mess hall. If he wanted to avoid the recruits, he would have to take the L-shaped corridor that bypassed the training grounds.

  "Attention! Salute the Commander!"

  Every formation did the same. Antonio felt a bit guilty; he wasn't a new officer and didn't need to specifically walk through the training grounds to enjoy the limelight and special treatment. He just wanted to avoid certain eyes he had to avoid and reduce the gossip.

  In the officers' mess hall, an old officer in his late fifties sat facing the door. His skin was dull, and both his face and physique showed that he had grown fat. He was alone, enjoying the final moment of peace before the dinner rush.

  Antonio stood straight, stomped his feet, and saluted.

  "General Bernardo!"

  As soon as Bernardo saw Antonio, his eyes narrowed into a smile. He subconsciously shifted his butt, clearing a seat to his right.

  He was the supreme leader of this camp; to be invited to sit so closely by his side was a supreme honor.

  Antonio walked forward, pretending to be a man with a mind free of distractions. He knew Bernardo was molesting him with his gaze—from his handsome, well-defined face, to his flat chest, and down to the curves of his trousers.

  The old man just loves this sort of thing... Antonio thought with disgust.

  Keeping a smile, he didn't sit next to Bernardo but instead sat directly opposite him.

  Lito, the military cook, came rushing over with a menu, pouring tea while speaking in a tone of admiration and awe:

  "Commander Antonio, congratulations on your promotion! What would you like to eat today?"

  Antonio nodded gratefully to Lito. At this moment, he desperately needed someone to break the awkwardness. "Braised pork ribs, a portion of steamed fish, green vegetables... hmm..."

  "That’s too little! You’re at least 185cm tall; you can’t just eat that! Order one more dish."

  Facing the eager Lito, Antonio gave a natural smile. "Then, another portion of stir-fried chicken."

  After Lito nodded and left, Antonio turned his face back, still maintaining his smile.

  He was smiling at Bernardo on purpose.

  "Antonio." When their eyes met, Bernardo’s pupils seemed as if they were being burned by the sun; he quickly turned his head slightly and withdrew his burning gaze.

  After three or four seconds of awkward silence, the old man finally spoke.

  "Antonio, you rarely come to eat at this time. You must have something to ask of me."

  "Yes..." Antonio lowered his head and took a sip of tea, trying to appear natural.

  "Mm, go ahead."

  The food arrived. Antonio picked up his utensils—fork and knife in his left hand, chopsticks in his right. He was proficient with both.

  He took a bite of the braised pork, raised his bright, piercing eyes, and nodded urgently. "General, today's braised pork is delicious."

  Heh, Bernardo loved his little everyday expressions; he knew them all.

  Feeling Bernardo’s gaze completely captivated through his peripheral vision, Antonio swallowed slowly before saying: "There is a small matter, but I can't handle it. I need your help."

  Bernardo was usually harsh and extremely antisocial. Antonio had already guessed that his moving lips wanted to say: “If it’s a small matter, why come to me?”

  Antonio didn't wait for him to say it. He smiled and said: "It’s about my three children. I miss them very much. But as you know, I don't have a single bit of connection on the other side."

  Bernardo’s face finally twitched slightly, a fierce light gathering on his features.

  The two sides were still in a state of hostility. To say someone had "connections" on the other side was practically the same as calling them a spy or a traitor.

  "General, please don't be angry. I'll find a chance to drink with you! I just miss the children too much. You’re a father too, I hope you can understand. Besides coming to beg you, I have absolutely no other way."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Antonio’s pleading worked. Bernardo’s expression gradually softened. "Are you willing to come to my house for a drink?"

  "I can, I can."

  Antonio agreed submissively, but his stomach churned with nausea. Bernardo’s wife didn't allow him to bring people home to drink; the "home" he spoke of was a quiet house given to him by the military in the city. Almost all his superiors knew about his preferences and let him bring men there to stay the night.

  As long as someone can fight, they’re a talent; who cares if they’re a pervert!

  Seeing Antonio agree, Bernardo’s voice grew even softer: "Antonio, it’s fine if you don't want to go. Don't force yourself. You’re the only one I don't want to force."

  Drop dead!

  Antonio cursed in his heart. You're sweet-talking me like I'm a woman, aren't you?

  "I can help you find out the current situation of those three children. As for communicating or sending money, that’s impossible for now—unless you want to be executed."

  "That’s enough!" Antonio bit his teeth and nodded.

  He forced himself to think of his blind child, imagining her pitifully throwing herself into his arms and calling him "Papa," until his eyes grew misty. Only then did he take the opportunity to look up and ask: "General, are you saying that besides drinking, I have another choice?"

  "Of course! If you can help me win the San Pedro mine at an auction this Saturday for no more than $60,000, the drinking is waived."

  $60,000? The appraisal was as high as $220,000.

  Is he insane? That was an impossible task. It meant he would have to surrender his body.

  Antonio felt a wave of disgust.

  But he was extremely restrained, not letting the emotion show on his face.

  "General... this might be..."

  "You can do it. Go cooperate with Mr. Sebastian." Bernardo stood up angrily and walked away.

  So you saw that I'm unwilling?

  So you just have to humiliate me, don't you? Bernardo, are you forcing me to become your enemy?

  Just wait...

  No matter how complex his thoughts were, Antonio immediately stood up, came to attention, and saluted: "General Bernardo! Safe travels."

  Bernardo only waved his hand behind him without responding.

  After the old man left, Antonio finally relaxed. He took off his military cap and rested one foot on the crossbar of the chair.

  He noticed two chestnut cakes, each about the size of two fingers, had been added next to his plate. He broke into a wide grin.

  ...

  By the time Elena and Lucy finished their work, it was already afternoon.

  The chicken seedlings in the market were only allowed to be sold by farmers after getting military approval, so they also had to "clock out" according to the military's schedule.

  By now, the place selling seedlings was deserted.

  Elena felt a bit hungry and wanted to find something to eat, but there was only one eatery on the street. It sold nothing but white rice porridge with small pickles, yet the price was jaw-droppingly expensive.

  Next to the eatery, they found a department store selling some small pastries.

  "These are local chestnut cakes. 15 pesos each."

  "15 pesos? 15 pesos for this little thing?" Lucy saw the tiny treat was only two fingers wide and felt the lady boss was practically committing extortion.

  She felt it was worth half an egg at most—3 pesos, not a cent more.

  "Elena, we might as well eat the porridge. 20 pesos for a bowl is at least acceptable."

  "What? You’re actually comparing my chestnut cakes to white porridge?" The lady boss shouted loudly. "I use expensive sugar, oil, and other ingredients! I have to boil them until soft, mash them, stir-fry the filling—I often work until dawn without sleep. If you don't know quality, don't touch them..."

  "You..." Lucy was nearly fuming. This was the first time she had met such an overbearing shopkeeper.

  But Elena nudged Lucy with her elbow. "Ma'am, two pieces. I'll buy them. Here is thirty pesos."

  Lucy: "..."

  On the oxcart ride home, Lucy couldn't understand why Elena would spend 30 pesos on two pieces of chestnut cake.

  But every time she asked, Elena always gave the same answer.

  "We'll talk when we get home."