Stardew Valley’s Farming Master

Chapter 282



Chapter 282

Leon stayed silent for a moment. Under Abigail’s curious gaze, he quietly took out his last American Raspberry.

This one was originally meant for Abigail. After all, Leon knew her fondness for food all too well, and as his best buddy, she was someone he’d never forget when it came to sharing treats.

Who would’ve thought that this raspberry, meant as a token of friendship, would now serve as crucial evidence to prove his innocence?

“A raspberry? Where’d you find one at this time of year? And such a big one, too,” Abigail asked, her eyes instantly drawn to the berry in Leon’s hand.

“Don’t worry about that. Just take it—smell it, lick it, then taste it. You’ll know I’m not lying,” Leon said, handing it to her.

Abigail actually followed his instructions to the letter. First, she brought it to her nose and sniffed, then stuck out her pink tongue to give the surface a quick lick. Finally, she popped it into her mouth and bit down gently.

Perhaps she wasn’t prepared—her lips weren’t fully closed when her teeth broke the berry’s skin. A burst of juice sprayed out.

Thankfully, Leon dodged quickly and avoided getting splattered in the face.

Abigail, on the other hand, hurriedly covered her mouth. Not because she thought spitting juice was unladylike, but because the delightful flavor on her tongue made her feel it was a terrible waste to let any escape.

The raspberry was large, but aside from its abundant juice, there wasn’t much pulp to chew. Abigail finished it quickly.After swallowing, she licked her lips reluctantly. “Wow, that was amazing! So sweet and fragrant, not even a hint of sourness, and so juicy—it’s like biting into an orange. One isn’t enough. Got any more?”

“Nope. That was the last one,” Leon replied with a straight face. If he so much as smirked, Abigail would think he was lying.

“I don’t believe you.” Abigail gave him a suspicious look. But since it wasn’t something Leon carried on his person—it was stored in his special spatial ability—she had no way to search him.

“Believe it or not, that’s all there is.” Leon spread his hands as if inviting her to frisk him.

Seeing that, Abigail reluctantly accepted his words, though she still pouted. “Fine. But next time you find such high-quality raspberries, call me along to pick them. I want to eat my fill.”

(Abigail doesn’t actually like raspberries. Don’t gift them to her! Leah, Jodi, Sandy, and Robin do enjoy them, though.)

“You wouldn’t get the same taste if you picked them yourself,” Leon reminded her. “The one I gave you was affected by magic—different from ordinary raspberries.”

“I don’t believe you. You just don’t want me competing with you,” Abigail scoffed.

Leon rolled his eyes. “Believe what you want.”

“Alright, I believe you.” If Leon had kept explaining, she wouldn’t have. But with that curt reply, she was sure he was telling the truth.

She couldn’t help sighing. “Magic is amazing. I wish I could learn it. Then I could conjure up endless good food and keep myself safe on adventures.”

Leon almost told her she could go to the Wizard’s Tower in the Coal Forest to find Rasmodius. After all, Rasmodius had already given her a precious Magic Talisman—clear proof he saw her as a future successor. If she asked, he’d probably be thrilled to teach her everything.

But then Leon remembered Rasmodius had given her the talisman without revealing his identity as a wizard. That meant he had other concerns. So Leon decided not to blurt it out.

Who knew—maybe Rasmodius was hiding somewhere right now, watching the Easter festivities. If he noticed Leon revealing the secret early, Leon figured he’d better start thinking about who to ask to water his crops for the next few days.

Since Leon stayed quiet, Abigail dropped the topic and turned the conversation to the upcoming Egg Hunt.

“By the way, Leon, since this is your first time, I should fill you in on a few important things.”

“It’s just a game. There are rules?” Leon asked in surprise.

“Of course! It’s a big event—you need proper rules. Otherwise, it’d be chaos. People could get hurt or start fights, and that would ruin the celebration,” Abigail explained.

“You mean things would backfire?” Leon said instinctively, then remembered people here didn’t use Chinese idioms. He quickly corrected himself. “Never mind. Go ahead with the rules.”

“Alright, pay attention. If you break them, your egg count will be penalized.” Abigail ticked them off on her fingers.

“First, if two people spot an egg at the same time, whoever’s closer gets it.”

“Second, no snatching, stealing, or tricking other contestants out of their eggs.”

“Third, once the final whistle blows, you have five minutes to return to the judge. Miss it, and you’re disqualified.”

“Fourth, each event egg has a special mark. You can’t use homemade eggs to fake it. Get caught, and you’re disqualified.”

“That’s it?” Leon asked when she stopped after the fourth rule.

“There’s one more, but I forgot,” Abigail admitted sheepishly, sticking out her tongue.

Leon gave her a look, then consoled her. “If you can’t remember, it’s probably not that important. Forget it.”

“Mm.” Abigail nodded, then added, “Once the whistle blows, let’s meet up right away. Then you hand me all your eggs. No objections?”

“Nope. We agreed on that,” Leon replied with a grin.

“Good. Let’s get ready—it’s almost time.” Abigail grabbed his arm happily and dragged him toward the center of the square.

That afternoon, my manager called me into the office for a lecture—said I’ve been slacking lately and not working hard enough. Sigh. Who understands the bitterness of a wage slave? If it weren’t for him telling me later that Palworld was updating on the 27th and asking me to help him farm in-game, I might have believed his scolding was serious.

Shameless capitalist.

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