113 Daughter

Time passed by the minute and second.

On Earth.

Departments of the Los Angeles Microbiology Institute gradually received instructions focused on their areas of expertise.

In a cave on the African continent, Mr. Adrian also found three outdoor guides on seeking salt for the kidnappers who were sorcerers.

At this moment, in the medieval world where Wu Qingchen was located, with a time ratio of one to thirty, it was already the night of the second day.

February 13, Year 0001, Night.

Near a certain plot of the Los family’s land in Ecli Village.

About seven or eight meters away from the wooden pole where a beehive had been freshly relocated the day before, another similar tall wooden pole was erected.

Next to the pole, four serfs and two oxherd assistants, under Wu Qingchen’s command, skillfully and quickly fixed the second beehive firmly onto the pole using a dozen or so vine strips.

“All done. Everyone, step back.”

After carefully inspecting the beehive, Wu Qingchen took the pole from the serfs, preparing to uncover the moist soil sealing the hive entrance.

At that moment, the oxherd assistants and serfs had already taken up their positions where they had stood the previous day.

The following steps were exactly the same as yesterday’s.

The hive entrance was uncovered—the swarm flew out—the swarm circled the nest—the swarm returned.

Seeing the swarm return, with yesterday’s experience, the oxherd assistants and serfs immediately cheered, and young Andre’s face lit up with joy.

Wu Qingchen fully understood their excitement.

The second beehive had been successfully moved to the plot!

For the serfs, this meant another day’s supply of beans was secured.

For the assistants, it signified another critical point for treating the plowing oxen was about to be revealed.

For young Andre, it meant the sweetness of autumn would be even more abundant.

Even for Earth, it meant the cornerstone of the “Mill Strategy” had become much firmer.

However, Wu Qingchen felt somewhat troubled.

Being scolded on Earth was one thing...

But now, he feared the medieval world might soon begin to scold him as well...

Whether on Earth or in the medieval world, joy and pain always maintained a subtle balance; when some began to rejoice, it often meant others’ moods would turn gloomy.

Before entering the medieval world, the Earth Analysis Team had already warned about the side effects of moving beehives—and now, those side effects had manifested.

In fact, to avoid these side effects, when it was nearly time to work on the plot with the beehive today, Wu Qingchen deliberately went to the lord’s livestock barn under the pretext that the summer labor was about to resume and the village oxen needed careful inspection, only returning home slowly as dusk approached.

Back at home, in the newly moved-in oxherd mansion during dinner, Wu Qingchen’s father in the medieval world, William Moore, told him that after the beehive was placed near the plot, during work today, Richard, Hansel, and several other villagers had all been more or less stung by the bees.

When mentioning this, William Moore, who had also been stung, did not blame Wu Qingchen. As a shrewd old farmer, he knew that moving beehives was a perfect chance to curry favor with the priest. As long as there was no life-threatening danger, being stung a few times, or even having to go to the church for a “rolling test” diagnosis, was nothing serious.

However, decades of village life experience taught William Moore that flattery, especially flattery that benefited one’s own family while causing innocent others to pay the price, would never be met with warm smiles.

Old William proudly praised Wu Qingchen and urged his elder brother and sister to learn from him: having young Andre stand around the plot during the day as the scapegoat, then sending out mint plants from their own home and immediately teaching the villagers troubled by the bees methods to reduce stings, was truly a clever plan!

The approval of his parents, and the admiration of his elder brother and sister, did not completely dispel Wu Qingchen’s gloom.

Although he had already taught the affected villagers the methods and the advisory team had prepared multiple countermeasures for their possible reactions, Wu Qingchen still felt uneasy.

After all, the villagers had no concept of the tremendous benefits beehives brought to the crops.

What they saw was only that the farm work on their plots was affected, their household labor harmed, and the expected harvest this year might be slightly reduced.

That slight reduction was no small matter.

For the villagers of the medieval world, every grain of food in the clay pot had been carefully planned, and every anticipated fruit from the plot directly affected how many days they would starve in winter.

Being forced to suffer two more days of hunger for no reason—who would be happy about that?

Wu Qingchen hoped that the methods to reduce bee harassment could, at the very least, ease the villagers’ minds a little.

At least, that they would scold him a little less.

Looking toward the east side of the village, Wu Qingchen sighed softly.

———

At that very moment, in the direction Wu Qingchen was gazing.

Just beyond two rolling hills from the Los family’s log cabin, William Moore’s old neighbor, Richard, pushed open the wooden door of his own cabin.

“How did it go? Did you manage to borrow it?” Richard’s wife, Melissa, came forward.

“We got it... We got it...” Richard wiped his sweat, then opened his tightly clenched fist in front of Melissa. Two iron needles lay quietly in his palm.

“Good.” Melissa took the needles and beckoned behind her, “Yolanda, come quickly and help.”

“All right, mother.” Their daughter nodded and approached her mother. Just as she reached out her hand, Richard closed the wooden door.

The cabin instantly darkened. Yolanda’s right hand trembled, and the iron needle fell to the floor.

“Hey!”

Hearing the needle drop, the mother immediately exclaimed, “Be careful! These are the needles Freeman painstakingly got! If they break, how will your father explain it to Freeman?”

“Sorry, mother.” The daughter hurriedly squatted down, eyes wide open as she searched.

The room was too dark, and Yolanda failed to find it for a while.

“Honestly...” the mother also squatted down.

“Enough, don’t blame Yolanda...” Richard called inside the cabin, “Elijah, bring a stick of firewood over. Help find the needles first, then help your mother and sister light up the room.”

“All right, father.” Elijah, about ten years old and Richard’s youngest son, went to the corner of the cabin, picked up a piece of firewood, ignited it on the embers, and held it beside Richard.

“Smack!” Just as he approached, Richard slapped the back of Elijah’s head.

“Why are you burning such a thick stick? Don’t you know your sister...”