Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone Chapter 541 - 536: Our Gardens

The residual monitors had stayed flat for days. No spikes, no warnings, nothing that required anyone to drop what they were doing and move to a station. That quiet made it possible to look at the eastern gardens properly for the first time since the pressure had eased.

Aiden met Elizabeth at the outer gate just after mid-morning. Two gardeners were already there—Hale, who had kept the temple’s kitchen beds going through the worst of it, and Mira, younger, who usually worked the herb rows closer to the kitchens.

They carried tools and a pair of watering cans. Elizabeth had a folded list in one hand and a pair of gloves in the other.

"We’ll start with the three beds nearest the path," she said. "They took the least damage. Clear what’s dead, turn the soil, see what still has roots."

Aiden nodded and took a spade from Hale. The beds looked tired. Spent stalks leaned against one another. A few hardy greens still showed color near the edges, but most of the center growth had gone brown and brittle.

The soil itself was packed hard in places where people had walked during the crisis, softer where no one had needed to cross.

They worked without hurry. Hale and Mira cut the dead material and piled it to one side for the compost heap.

Aiden and Elizabeth turned the soil in the first bed, breaking the harder clumps and working the looser earth underneath. The smell of damp dirt rose as soon as the surface was opened. It was ordinary and clean.

"These used to have the early greens," Mira said after a while. "Before everything tightened. They came back fastest after the last hard winter."

Elizabeth glanced at the list. "We’ll plant those first, then. Keep the middle beds for the slower roots later."

Aiden pushed the spade deeper and turned another section. "How long before the soil feels right again?"

"A season if we tend it," Hale answered. "Less if the weather stays mild. The ground remembers what it was for."

They moved to the second bed. Conversation stayed practical—what recovered quickest, which sections had better drainage, whether the old markers for the herb rows were still accurate.

Elizabeth mentioned that the northern beds had been used for defensive plantings during the worst weeks, dense and thorny, and that those would need more work later. No one spoke of residual pressure or monitors. The work itself set the pace.

Selene arrived while they were finishing the second bed. She stood at the edge of the path for a moment, watching, then stepped closer.

"The outer walk is clear," she said. "I thought I’d see how this was going."

Elizabeth looked up from the soil. "We’re making progress. Two beds almost ready."

Selene nodded, then glanced at Aiden. "Walk the far path with me for a few minutes? The others can finish the third."

He set the spade aside and joined her. They moved along the outer edge of the garden, where the wall met the older trees. The path was narrow but even. Behind them the soft scrape of tools continued.

"The note from the northern house came through clean," Selene said after a short stretch of silence. "No demands. Just an acknowledgment that the quiet has held, and a question about whether limited trade along the old road might resume if nothing changes."

Aiden kept his eyes on the path. "What kind of trade?"

"Ordinary things. Seed stock, basic tools, a few medical stores they still lack. Nothing that requires open gates or formal parties. They suggested a single exchange point at the old marker stone, once a month at first."

"And if the residual stays flat?"

"Then it stays small and practical. No political weight beyond the goods themselves. If the quiet continues, cooperation stays limited and ordinary. That was the tone of the note."

They walked a little farther. The turned earth of the first beds was visible from this angle, dark against the remaining dry growth. Selene stopped once and looked at it.

"It’s good to see soil moved for growth again," she said.

Aiden nodded. They shared a brief glance at the work, then continued the loop back toward the others. No further words were needed. When they returned, the third bed was cleared and the pile of spent growth had been carried away.

Hale and Mira were already watering the first two, the cans tipping slowly so the soil could take the moisture without runoff.

Elizabeth wiped her hands on her gloves. "That’s enough for today. The beds will settle overnight. Tomorrow we can decide the first plantings."

The afternoon light fell across the open earth. The gardens no longer looked abandoned. They looked tended, even if only in three small sections.

Aiden stood with the others for a moment longer, watching the water darken the soil, then followed Elizabeth back toward the main path when the tools were gathered.

The reopened archive wing held its first informal study hour that afternoon. No schedule had been posted, no formal class announced.

A few keepers simply brought their own reading and sat at the restored tables. Lira was already there when Aiden arrived, a technical volume open in front of her and a short stack of note sheets to one side.

Two junior attendants occupied the far end of the long table, turning pages slowly and exchanging low questions when something needed clarification.

Aiden chose a seat near the middle, not close enough to interrupt, and took a volume from the nearby shelf that required no urgent attention.

The binding was sound, the pages clean. He opened it to a section on older garden layouts and began reading without purpose beyond the act itself.

The room held the soft sound of pages turning and the occasional scrape of a chair. Lira worked steadily, pausing only to mark a line or write a brief note. The junior attendants kept their voices down.

Elizabeth passed through once, checked the environmental readings on the wall panel, and left again without speaking. The numbers stayed within the quiet range they had held for days.

Aiden read for a while longer. The text described planting cycles that matched what they had started that morning in the eastern gardens. He made no notes. The simple fact of sitting with an ordinary book in a space that had been closed for so long was enough.

When the study hour ended, the keepers closed their volumes and rose. The junior attendants followed. Lira stacked her notes, returned the technical text to its place, and left with a quiet nod in Aiden’s direction.

The wing emptied until only Aiden and Elizabeth remained. She had returned near the end and now stood by the panel once more, confirming the final readings of the day.

"The space feels different when it’s used for this," she said.

Aiden closed his book. "It does. Quiet, but not empty."

They sat near each other at the long table for a few minutes more. No further conversation was required. The shared relief of ordinary function returning needed no elaboration. Outside the high windows the light had begun to soften toward evening.

Elizabeth stood first. "I’ll turn the lamps down."

She moved along the wall, lowering each one in turn until the wing held only the low glow needed for the night cycle. The residual monitors remained flat. The temple continued its normal evening rhythm without interruption.

Aiden returned the volume to the shelf and followed her out. Behind them the archive settled into its quiet hours, the tables clear, the air steady, the gardens outside already beginning to look like places meant for growth again.