Chapter 19: Buying a Car

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Ronan finally understood why new cars had no market in Provence. New car bumpers just didn’t hold up as well as those on used cars. He wasn’t about to let his shiny, polished vehicle rub shoulders with those rust-speckled old-timers. If you can’t change it, join it. Come on, let’s all fall apart together!

After weighing multiple factors, Ronan chose a 1982 Citroën Dyane. First, among all the vehicles for sale, it had relatively low mileage—just over 70,000 kilometers. Second, it was a model that could serve both for travel and cargo hauling, offering ample storage for tasks like transporting grapes in autumn or selling goods in other villages. Third, the price was 19,800 francs, well within Ronan’s budget, so he didn’t even need a loan.

Buying a car required a lot of paperwork. After paying the deposit, Ronan settled in at home to wait for Nelson’s notification to pick up the car. During this waiting period, Ronan didn’t go truffle hunting. The truffle season would last for quite some time, and to earn more, he probably wouldn’t get much rest in the coming weeks. So these few days were perfect for preparation.

First on the list was to prepare some food to take with him while truffle hunting. To be honest, just the sight of bread made Ronan feel nauseous—he couldn’t eat a bite. Except for gatherings at friends’ homes and dining out, he hadn’t gained any happiness from eating for many days, even though it used to be his favorite way to boost his happiness points.

Currently, his system showed over 130 happiness points, and with a month of truffle hunting ahead, he could earn money without worrying about finding another livelihood. By the end of February, he was sure to have accumulated plenty more happiness points, so there was no need to worry.

He opened the system and found a target skill:

[Level 1 Construction: 0/100]
[Level 2 Planting: 0/500]
[Level 2 Gathering: 0/500]
...
[Level 1 Cooking: 0/100]

Ronan generously upgraded his cooking skill to level 2. He hadn’t sought help from his parents to bridge the distance because the nearest Chinese supermarket to Lourmarin was in Avignon, and his current cooking conditions didn’t support making the dishes his parents excelled at. He also needed to improve his culinary skills so that when his parents taught him, they wouldn’t be frustrated to death.

But this didn’t mean Ronan gave up on Chinese cuisine. Level 2 cooking knowledge told him that making dumplings was totally doable with his current setup.

Provence lacked pastureland, so there were few cattle farmers, making beef expensive. Ronan bought two pounds of lamb from the butcher and some onions from the vegetable shop.

His mother had always said, “Making dumplings is the easiest,” which Ronan hadn’t understood before. Kneading dough, chopping vegetables, and mixing fillings didn’t seem simple at all. But once he tried, he found it really was that easy!

After upgrading his cooking skill, kneading and resting the dough felt effortless, like an imprint deep in his spirit. While the dough rested, chopping vegetables, mixing the filling, and seasoning were also very easy.

By the time the filling was ready, the dough had rested enough. Half an hour later, steaming hot dumplings were in his mouth.

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“This is what I call a proper meal!” Ronan nearly cried, not just because the dumplings were hot, but because of the familiar comfort of the food.

The system confirmed his feelings:
[Tasting delicious lamb dumplings increased happiness by 3 points]
[Tasting delicious lamb dumplings increased happiness by 2 points]
...

Perhaps due to personal taste, Chinese food brought a higher level of happiness than local cuisine.

Little Black was frantic, drooling and circling around Ronan nonstop. Ronan ate two dumplings, the dog got one, and in less than ten minutes, over forty dumplings were gone.

Little Black sat up straight, eagerly awaiting the next dumpling, obviously still hungry.

Ronan patted its head and smiled as he tied his apron:
“We need to make at least 300 more.”

The dumplings could be frozen and cooked whenever needed—this would be the food supply for him and Little Black for the coming week.

...

On the fourth day after paying the deposit, Nelson completed all the procedures. With one hand, he collected the remaining payment; with the other, he handed over the car. Mr. Ronan had officially joined the ranks of car owners.

Nelson’s last words as he sent Ronan off were:
“Don’t bother with maintenance if you can avoid it. Don’t waste money on the car—it’s practically unbreakable.”

Ronan slammed the gas pedal and fled in panic.
Terrifying people in Provence!

...

The day after picking up the car, Ronan left Lourmarin before dawn. By the time he reached his destination after 7 a.m., the sun was already up. He arrived at the secret garden before 8:30 a.m.

This extended his truffle hunting time by three hours—from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.—almost doubling it.

The harvest also multiplied: he dug up over a dozen truffles in one day.

However, because he spent one day looking for a car, four days waiting for it, and one day making dumplings at home, he only had one day to actually hunt truffles.

As a result, his “shine” at Friday’s market plunged dramatically.

Many curious people who had witnessed the previous week’s spectacle came again to check Ronan’s stall.

“How many truffles did the amazing kid from Lourmarin dig up this week? Surely not another sixty?”

They were deeply disappointed.

Eleven.

Was that previous week’s sixty truffles really dug up by him?

Pierre, worried the previous situation might recur, brought people to maintain order, only to find Ronan’s stall “deserted.”

He patted Ronan on the shoulder:
“We’re at the mercy of the weather—that’s how it is. Don’t be discouraged; you’re still better than most.”

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Ronan smiled:
“I told you it was just luck, but you didn’t believe me and had to come asking for advice. Now you do, right?”

Misunderstood, Ronan had no intention of explaining.

Too many people had asked him about truffle hunting secrets this week, including villagers from other places who came specifically for that, seriously disrupting his life.

“I knew you were just lucky!” Pierre joked for a while, making sure Ronan wasn’t upset before leaving.

As soon as he left, Zoe spoke up:
“I made a good profit these last two markets. Lunch is on me.”

“Huh?” Ronan turned around, puzzled.

Hey, hey, hey! Don’t pity me—I don’t look the least bit pitiable, do I?

Those eleven truffles alone could sell for at least 2,000 francs!

...

Provence has a saying: as long as the sun doesn't show its face, disaster is sure to follow.

The weather deeply affects the people of Provence. They hope for sunny days; otherwise, they become gloomy. The cold air arriving with February feels like a brutal personal attack.

The coming cold wave kept almost everyone indoors—except one place: the old tavern where drunks gather, though even there, only sighs and complaints filled the air.

“You sigh too? I can’t think of anything to make you unhappy.” Pierre put his hat on the table, rubbing his hands, speaking to a man who bore a four- or five-point resemblance to Theo.

This man was taller and sturdier than Theo, dressed in the typical attire of a Provençal farmer—none other than Theo’s older brother, Lucas.

Lucas sneered at Pierre:
“It’s Friday. Aren’t you going to the market to watch over your ‘little brother’?”

Lucas had won the truffle competition, but the entire village’s farmers admired Ronan even more for finding truffles without a hunting dog, which upset him deeply.

Pierre forced a laugh:
“That kid’s just lucky. Last week he only found eleven. He doesn’t need to go this week.”

Hastily changing the subject, he asked,
“So, why the sigh?”

Before Lucas could answer, a farmer rushed in, flustered:
“Ronan’s asking for help over here!”

“What happened to Ronan?” Pierre frowned.

“His stall is overflowing with truffles—an entire box! The whole main road is blocked!”