Operation Red Book

The sun at four o'clock in the afternoon was warm and gentle. People in the city of London stretched lazily, feeling lazy and comfortable, as if the sun was not spreading light but tens of thousands of sleepyheads.

It was just an ordinary afternoon in the city of London, which is full of skyscrapers, but it was a special day for the Macmillan Manor in the suburbs.

Mrs. Emerson's birthday party was about to begin in less than an hour. The servants and workers in the manor were staring at the clock, preparing for the remaining work in full swing.

Maid Jessica was originally a maid in charge of the kitchen, but the kitchen was destroyed by Duke Andrew this morning and could no longer be used.

Everyone in the kitchen had to hurry to the market, farmers, and other knights' fiefs to buy ingredients for the banquet.

Some servants and craftsmen built a simple kitchen in the open space in the backyard, which temporarily solved the problem of food supply.

"Oh! My Virgin Mary! Please, angels, take me away!"

Jessica finally brought back the last dozen eggs. When she walked happily to the dessert room, the smile on her face disappeared in an instant.

Unexpectedly, Duke Andrew suddenly had the idea of ​​making a berry cake for his wife.

While beating the cream, he accidentally knocked over the eggs piled on the side. The plump and round eggs rolled on the huge table, and their final destination was of course the hard black floor.

It would have been fine if only a few eggs were broken, but the eggs also knocked over a few seasoning bottles as they rolled, and all at once, salt, sugar, and pepper fell out and mixed together.

The pepper jar happened to be a rolling cylinder. Jessica didn't understand why the pepper jar was designed to be cylindrical. Was it just to cause trouble to people?

This damn Italian, or French, or Turk...

Whatever country's bad bastard had designed the pepper shaker, most of the pepper rolled off the table and spilled into the flour beside it, including the three open bags.

If it was just a little pepper mixed in with the flour, it wouldn't be a big deal, but the damn pepper shaker overturned one of the flour bags, and the shaker and the flour fell to the ground.

The already smooth jar was covered with flour, which reduced its resistance. The pepper shaker was like Doctor Strange who had obtained a magic cape and rolled towards the cabinet in the corner with all its strength.

This is to blame on the rampant rats. If you catch a bunch of them, they will give birth to two bunches. If you poison two bunches, they will give birth to four bunches.

We can also blame the older mice for not educating their younger generations well. They refused to eat the cheese and butter on the table and insisted on gnawing on the old cupboard pillar.

We also have to blame the bulging-eyed little cook. Why didn't she use some hard stones to prop up the broken cabinet legs, but had to use newspapers and sawdust, and even swore that there would be no problem.

But she never expected that one day a round pepper shaker covered with slippery flour, knocked over by an egg, would appear on the floor of the dessert room. With just a slight hit, it broke the shaky cabinet leg in half.

All the precious tableware was swept away in an instant, like a Himalayan avalanche, pouring down with a roar that was so loud and clear that it resounded through the sky. Especially the porcelain plates shipped from China, most of which were shattered in the blink of an eye.

Duke Andrew and the servants around him were all stunned. Things happened so quickly that even the most agile servant could only snatch back a small porcelain spoon.

Of course, Duke Andrew is not to blame for this incident. He is also a victim. This is the professional quality of servants. The master is always right.

If you want to blame someone, blame the chef's naughty grandson, who at some point put a rubber ball deep into the cupboard.

I don't know which devil whispered in his ears, but he just placed it next to the ceramic bowl where no one took it. Until today, this marble that had been there for a long time finally saw the light of day again.

It jumped around excitedly in the dessert room, knocking over the wooden rack of dried fruits and then overturning the wooden basket of fruits.

In the end, the marble of unknown origin bounced onto the ceiling as it wished, and fell into the bowl of cream that Duke Andrew had just whipped along with a large piece of wall dust.

For a moment, the white cream splattered everywhere as if it had mad cow disease.

Especially Duke Andrew's beard, which made him look like Santa Claus about to jump out of the chimney.

"Master Andrew, please don't take it to heart! This is your problem! What I said... Of course! Of course it's not your problem!"

Jessica gritted her teeth and said to the stunned Andrew. She put the eggs in her hand outside the dessert room and shook her arms and shoulders that had already ached.

"You should go upstairs and change your clothes. The guests will be here soon... Remember to wash your face, Santa Claus, oh no, Your Excellency the Duke..."

After the frightened Andrew was carried up by the servants, Jessica realized that her cheeks were sore from pretending to smile for so long.

She glanced around the dessert room that looked like a battlefield, and lowered her head in despair, along with her barely raised mouth corners and eyelids as hard as stone.

Jessica's body slid down the door frame. She felt cold all over and she was at her lowest point, except for her burning heart, which seemed to be melted by fire.