HTLCCBFT Chapter 33

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 33

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the Lord’s hand only paused for a brief moment while stroking the chick before naturally placing it into the newly set up chicken coop.

However, the moment the fluffy little creature was set down, it clearly showed attachment to the owner of that hand—barely standing steady, it couldn’t help but try to approach again.

Yet Oliver had already withdrawn his hand without any hesitation, reaching for the next chick.

The chick immediately grew anxious, its pale yellow beak opening and closing as it scurried toward him on the soft bedding while emitting urgent “cheep” sounds.

Unfortunately, the hand it so dearly longed for wouldn’t grace it again for the time being.

Before taking out the second chick, Oliver looked at Lucy, who was staring in astonishment, and said solemnly, “Chicks aren’t suitable for mixed-gender rearing, so it’s best to determine their gender before placing them in the coop. This is a method taught to me by the wise Cat God, and I’ll demonstrate it for you now.”

Upon hearing the sacred name “Cat God,” Lucy straightened up immediately, shifting her gaze from those slender, pale fingers and focusing intently.

Even if stroking the chicks didn’t grant experience points, Oliver had planned to handle each one at least once to distinguish their gender for separate rearing.

After all, the two genders grow at different rates, and roosters are far more aggressive than hens: when raised together, issues like fighting over food and injuries are common, so separate management is safer.

Oliver was quite satisfied with the batch of chicks merchant Hahn had sold him after a quick inspection.

Aside from a few timid ones huddled awkwardly in the cramped bamboo basket, eyes closed and barely moving, the vast majority were plump, responsive, with bright, dark eyes wide open and clear, lively chirps.

These were the signs of healthy chicks.

Lucy held her breath as she watched the Lord deftly pluck a fluttering chick from the basket in the blink of an eye—the entire motion fluid and natural, even pleasing to the eye.

Lucy couldn’t help but gasp softly.

She marveled inwardly at the miraculous wisdom of the Cat God—if she didn’t know that someone as noble and beautiful as the Lord couldn’t have handled chicks before, she’d have thought such skill came from thousands of repetitions.

When that elegant finger gently pressed against the soft, downy abdomen, the previously panicked, chirping, and struggling chick miraculously quieted down.

It lay obediently in the narrow confinement of his fingers, its tiny claws gradually relaxing from their tense curl, and its soft, elastic belly shifting from frantic heaving to a gentle, rhythmic rise and fall.

“There are two holding methods,” Oliver explained seriously to Lucy, ignoring the enamored red heart that popped up above the chick’s head. “This is the first one.”

What he demonstrated were the methods taught to him by a local farmer during his volunteer work in the countryside—the pinch grip and the ball grip.

The so-called ball grip involves catching the chick with the left palm against its back in the direction it’s running, then flipping it over so the vent faces upward, cradling it like a ball.

Next comes assisting the chick with excretion and then gender sorting. At the junction of the second and third folds on the lower wall of the cloaca, if you can see a small protruding spherical structure, it is male; otherwise, it is female.

“Next, I’ll do it slowly. Watch carefully.”

Oliver said lightly and indeed considerately slowed down…

But Fosse, who was watching from the side, felt his heart clench violently, barely restraining himself from rushing forward to keep his beloved young master away from those filthy things!

“Hmm, it seems this is a well-behaved little boy.”

After glancing at the small pink protrusion, Oliver commented with a slight smile.

Before Fosse could faint, he placed the dazed chick, which had gone limp like a pancake, into a pre-partitioned section of the coop.

“Does it seem a bit difficult?” Noticing the barely concealed confusion on Lucy’s face, he smiled gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll demonstrate a few more times.”

When he expertly identified the gender of the sixth chick using the same method, Lucy, under the murderous gaze of the steward Fosse, finally mustered some confidence and nodded softly, saying, “Respected Lord, I… I think I might have learned it.”

“Take your time. Give it a try.”

Oliver smiled cheerfully and swiftly grabbed another chick.

With just a light stroke over the down on its back, this simple touch made a “successful petting” heart appear above its head. Its originally sharp and urgent “cheep cheep” cries softened, as if it were drunk.

Oliver glanced at the heart and naturally handed the inexplicably docile chick to her trembling hands. “Take it slow. Apply moderate pressure—too little and you won’t be able to expose it, too much and the area will be overly exposed…”

While giving calm instructions, he carefully observed Lucy’s technique.

Sure enough, Lucy was too inexperienced and nervous, and for some reason, the chick struggled particularly hard in her hands. It took her a long time to make any progress.

Though mentally prepared, Lucy hadn’t expected that what seemed so effortless for the Lord would be so difficult for her!

A chick smaller than half her palm, with wings too tiny to fly, had already made her break into a cold sweat and flush bright red with tension.

In fact, just receiving the chick from the noble, sacred hands of the angel and touching his fingers was enough to make her dizzy.

Especially after clearly seeing how much the Lord valued these chicks, she was terrified of using too much force and harming these important little creatures.

Though Oliver didn’t know the extent of her psychological burden, he could easily see her caution.

He couldn’t help but chuckle and said, “Don’t be nervous, take your time to learn. Remember, chicks are indeed fragile, but they won’t get hurt from a simple hold. Besides, this process is uncomfortable for them. If you can do it quickly and correctly in one go, they’ll be more grateful to you.”

Failing at such a simple task and being comforted so gently by the Lord made Lucy so ashamed she nearly cried. “I… I understand, Lord.”

Oh, wise and mighty Cat God, how could she be so foolish?

“Oh great Cat God, please bestow upon me even a sliver of Your wisdom!”

She prayed incessantly in her heart.

Whether it was the prayer or the Lord’s reassurance that worked, she couldn’t tell.

After steeling herself and imitating the Lord’s earlier technique several times, she finally managed to locate the specific part on the chick—one that had been docile under the Lord’s hands but now struggled fiercely in hers!

“Well, it seems this is a rather fierce and mischievous little girl,” Oliver said with a smile, gesturing for Lucy to place the angrily chirping chick into the larger brooding area of the chicken coop. He casually praised, “You did very well, Lucy.”

“Oh, merciful Lord!”

Lucy, who had been feeling terribly anxious, could no longer hold back her grateful tears, which burst forth suddenly.

Flustered, she wiped them away while bowing her head to a stunned Oliver and pouring out a stream of thankful words.

Oliver, who had never been good at comforting crying little girls, only gradually regained his wits after seeing her quickly calm down on her own.

To cover his earlier bewilderment, he cleared his throat lightly.

Then, with a slight smile, he picked up another chick, swiftly stroked its warm, soft back, and handed it over while encouraging, “I believe the Cat God has always favored clever and kind children.”

Oliver had thought invoking the deity’s name would help calm the little girl, but he immediately regretted it the next moment.

Lucy, who never dared dream of receiving praise from the Lord and the great Cat God, upon hearing this, didn’t stop her tears but instead burst into even more intense sobbing!

Oliver: “…..”

Cat God!

He found himself inexplicably offering a prayer to Him as well, then resolutely turned his gaze to the ever-capable butler Fosse.

After the expressionless Fosse’s forceful intervention, Lucy—who was clearly more accustomed to stern discipline than gentle angelic words—finally completely settled down.

To Oliver’s relief, after that crying episode, her tense nerves relaxed all at once, and her technique in handling the chicks improved rapidly.

By the time they reached the 246th chick, she already appeared quite skilled and natural.

Oliver looked at the number of chicks in the small compartments and couldn’t help feeling pleasantly surprised.

Their luck this time was truly excellent!

Out of 256 chicks, a full 201 were hens, and all miraculously appeared lively and robust.

Among the entire batch, only 12 seemed listless, and fortunately, they were all roosters.

In the practical Lord’s eyes—roosters couldn’t lay eggs, so of course they weren’t as endearing as hens.

Oliver cast a satisfied glance at the lively flock of chicks, as if through their plump bodies he could see vast quantities of eggs in the near future.

After having containers of feed and water evenly distributed throughout the chicken coop, he had Lucy follow him toward the cornfield.

Lucy’s mind still echoed with those two earlier praises, and she walked in a daze, as if she had lost the ability to think.

Only when the Lord suddenly stopped did she realize they had arrived at the shed built for the adult chickens.

Sorting the chicks had taken a long time, and the sky was already growing completely dark. The twenty-odd chickens that had newly arrived and accidentally gotten lost in the cornfield had long been herded back to the coop by the dutiful serfs. Now they lay quietly, their dark, gleaming eyes warily fixed on these uninvited guests.

Oliver completely ignored the coop’s odor—which couldn’t be called foul but was far from pleasant—and strode directly forward. He then bent down and, with lightning speed yet remarkable composure, affectionately stroked all fifteen of the slower-reacting yellow-feathered chickens.

Watching the floating hearts that appeared in succession, Oliver calmly stood up and smiled at the stunned Lucy. “As I mentioned before, when you pass the Cat God’s second trial, there will be an additional reward for you, correct?”

Lucy asked dazedly, “B-but, Your Highness, haven’t you already permitted me to stay in the castle and become your maidservant?”

“Of course that’s not all,” Oliver chuckled. “Once you’ve acquired more knowledge and raised those chicks properly, the Cat God will surely bestow further rewards.”

Without waiting for Lucy to respond, he announced with a smile, “For now, these five chickens are yours.”

Oliver would never be stingy toward Lucy, whom he regarded as a promising poultry keeper. However, given her age and current circumstances, it wouldn’t be wise to reward her too lavishly before she further developed her professional skills in animal husbandry.

For the Laina citizens who often lacked adequate clothing and food, food rewards remained the most practical and desirable—especially these five hens currently in their egg-laying prime. Whether luxuriously slaughtered for meat or kept for eggs, they would make Lucy the envy of all serfs in Laina.

In Oliver’s plan, these five hens would serve perfectly as a control group. This would allow him to observe over the coming period whether his “affectionate stroking” of animals genuinely increased the production of animal products.

---