So far, Amy had only received letters from two people—one from Ryan, and the other from the unexpected Clara.
—But to be honest, Clara’s handwriting was indeed more elegant than Ryan’s.
The letter read:“Amy, hello. I heard from my mother that you installed a mailbox at your farm, so I wrote you this letter. I’m very sorry about what happened at the restaurant that day, and I hope you’ll give me a chance to make up for it. If you are willing to accept my apology, please come to my house at ten o’clock in the morning on the eighth day of spring. I look forward to meeting you.—Clara.”
After finishing the letter, Amy’s first reaction was confusion.
“I’m very sorry about what happened at the restaurant that day”… What exactly had happened at the restaurant that day?
She racked her brain for a long time before she finally remembered: Clara had said the clothes she wore were ugly.
“…”
Amy fell silent.
She was busy all day long—cooking, washing dishes, watering, chopping wood, fishing—she had no time to dwell on such trivial things. If Clara hadn’t deliberately written a letter, Amy would have completely forgotten about it.
At ten o’clock in front of her house… which meant in front of Leslie’s house.
She didn’t know what Clara wanted to do, but one thing was certain—there probably wouldn’t be time to fish today.
That meant a loss of at least 500 gold.
Amy weighed the pros and cons, and finally decided to go to Clara’s house for the appointment. After all, raising Clara’s favorability was difficult, and opportunities didn’t come often.
It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet, and there was still a long time until ten. That was more than enough time for Amy to do many things.
She got up, washed, ate her usual lettuce salad for breakfast, and went outside to water her crops.
The copper watering can Eric had upgraded for her overnight was far more useful than before. It held more water but was much lighter.
Now Amy didn’t need maple syrup to replenish her energy and could water an entire field without pain—at least for now.
Currently, her farm only had lettuce, tomatoes, and broccoli, taking up just a small patch of land. A simple copper watering can was enough. But the number of crops was still far below Amy’s expectations.
She was going to be the greatest farm owner! In the future, the entire farm would be filled with crops. By then, a copper watering can would never be enough. Only a gold watering can would do.
Thinking of the gold watering can reminded her of the 18,000 gold needed to upgrade it, and then of the 72,000 gold needed to upgrade all the tools… Amy quickly stopped herself, pushing those huge numbers out of her mind before they ruined her mood.
After finishing her chores, it was already close to eight. Amy returned to her cabin, stood in front of the wardrobe, and began choosing clothes for meeting Clara.
Moments later, she changed into a sky-blue dress.
As for the blue shirt and khaki shorts she had taken off, since she didn’t need them for farm work right now, she tossed them on the bed to wash later—reminding herself she really needed to buy a washing machine.
Once dressed, Amy carefully observed herself in the mirror. After days of hard work, her forearm muscles were more defined and looked much better than before. Although her biceps were still lacking, she was quite satisfied.
She then tied her hair into a bun. It had been a long time since she had done such a hairstyle, and she was out of practice. She fumbled for almost an hour before managing to get it right, a stark contrast to how deft she was at watering crops and baiting fishing hooks.
After all that effort, Amy looked at the bun on her head in the mirror and sighed: “Truly, a precious bun.”
Before she realized it, time had flown to nine-thirty. She slung her backpack over her shoulders, and before leaving, tucked a bottle of maple syrup inside—who knew where Clara would take her or how much stamina it would cost? If she fainted midway from exhaustion and scared the child, it would be bad.
Amy always liked to be prepared.
At nine-fifty, she arrived at Clara’s door—ten minutes early.
This had been her habit even before crossing over. When she made an appointment, she always arrived at least ten minutes early, sometimes even twenty or thirty minutes earlier, especially for business meetings with clients.
Because of this, Amy had been well regarded by her boss, often entrusted with assignments. She had been busier, but her salary had also risen…
Just as Amy was recalling her past life of hard work, she caught sight of a little figure in pink from the corner of her eye.
It wasn’t Clara—it was her younger sister, Ophelia.
When she saw Amy, Ophelia curiously ran over and asked in her soft, childish voice: “Amy, why are you standing at my door? Do you want to come in and sit? My mom isn’t home right now.”
That sweet voice, round face, and big icy-blue eyes like glass beads… She was the innocent little version of Clara. Amy’s heart melted instantly.
She couldn’t say that Clara had written for her to wait at the door—that would sound like badmouthing her sister. She didn’t know whether the two sisters got along, but she couldn’t risk it.
“Your sunflower garden is beautiful. I just wanted to admire it a little longer, and the view is better here.” Amy replied.
Ophelia easily believed her. “Alright, wait here then. I’ll be right back.”
The little girl ran back inside, leaving Amy puzzled.
What was Ophelia going to do?
Amy soon found out. Ophelia came running back holding something shaped like cookies.
“These are my mom’s chocolate cookies, my favorite! I brought you some.”
Such a good child—Amy’s heart completely melted. She said she would only eat one to taste, but Ophelia stuffed all of them into her arms.
Not wanting to disappoint her, Amy accepted them.
The chocolate chip cookies looked delicious—slightly raised, with golden-brown edges and softer centers, each one like a tiny piece of art.
The surface was dotted with chocolate chunks that had melted during baking, releasing a sweet aroma.
Amy swallowed—God could testify, she hadn’t even been hungry before this.
“Try one quickly!” Ophelia urged, her face full of expectation.
Amy smiled and said “Alright,” then picked up a cookie and took a bite.
The first thing she tasted was the crispy outer layer with a slight grainy texture—she guessed it was from the chocolate chips and sugar—then came the soft, smooth inside, where sweet and slightly bitter chocolate blended perfectly, not cloying even without tea.
Best of all, there were nuts inside—Amy tasted almonds. Their crunch and oils greatly enriched the cookie’s flavor.
[You have unlocked the recipe: “Chocolate Chip Cookies.”]
Amy hadn’t intended to eat all of them. After all, finishing a child’s snacks felt embarrassing. But the cookies were too delicious, and without noticing, she ate them all.
Feeling a little embarrassed, she looked at Ophelia’s happy expression, and the shyness melted away.
“Ophelia, thank you for bringing me such delicious cookies. They were wonderful.”
“Of course!” Ophelia said proudly. “My mom makes the best desserts! She also makes caramel pudding, soufflé, tiramisu… Next time you come over, I’ll have her make them for you too.”
Amy agreed with a smile, thinking that the next time she came to Leslie’s house, she must bring a good gift—something better than lettuce.
“Ophelia, what are you doing out here?”
A voice interrupted Amy’s thoughts. It was Clara—her appointment had arrived, right at 10:01.
“I’m playing with Amy!” Ophelia stood up and answered.
Clara’s tone wasn’t friendly. “What’s there for kids and adults to play? Don’t you two have a generation gap?”
In Amy’s mind, she answered: When it comes to food, definitely not.
Ophelia, puzzled, asked: “What does generation gap mean?”
Clara grew more impatient, her pretty brows furrowing. “Ophelia, go back inside. Don’t make trouble here. Amy and I have important things to do.”
Amy had stayed quiet to avoid interfering in family matters, but now she felt the need to defend Ophelia. She said to Clara: “Ophelia wasn’t making trouble. She gave me chocolate chip cookies. They were delicious.”
Ophelia nodded repeatedly. “Amy’s right!” Whether she was agreeing about “not making trouble” or “cookies being delicious” was unclear.
Clara fell silent, then muttered under her breath: “Cookies again,” with a trace of displeasure.
“Then go inside and eat cookies, Ophelia. Amy and I have things to do.” She repeated.
Perhaps because she could go back and eat her favorite treat, this time Ophelia accepted quickly, without hesitation. “Alright then, you two carry on. Bye!” She turned and ran back inside.
She ran so fast that Amy could feel how much Ophelia longed for cookies.
“Your sister is very cute,” Amy said sincerely.
Clara gave no response to that, only changing the subject. “Even though your clothes today aren’t that great either, they’re better than that day.”
Amy was speechless.
The system had only given her a few starter outfits—what could she do?
“You wrote me a letter just to tell me this?”
“Of course not.” Clara turned to her. “Come with me.”
Amy was confused. “Where to?”
“You’ll see when we get there,” Clara said without looking back.