Visitor

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Year 0001, February 3rd, in the Middle Ages. Six days had passed since the village’s herd was injured.

The sun had climbed high in the sky. At the northern edge of the village, nestled against a slope and facing a stream, Wu Qingchen stood at the doorway of a wooden cabin, swinging his arms with effort. Sweat poured down his forehead, and his youthful face was full of resignation.

“…No, no… Aunt Monia, you absolutely cannot give me the sickle… You still have several patches of pasture left to cut…”

“…No… no… this won’t do either… the spade is just the same… without it, you can't till the soil at all…”

“…Good heavens… Auntie, don’t go moving the pot! We already have two at home!”

“…Don’t… Auntie, put down the plow… No, don’t hand it to me, I can’t carry it! Besides, that’s Uncle Oji’s plow…”

“What’s this? Peas? So many peas… no, don’t stuff them into my clothes… Auntie, please, my clothes will tear!”

“All right, all right, Aunt Monia, stop looking around… Listen to me, just listen to me!”

“…Aunt Monia, I know what you’re thinking, but truly, I cannot take any of these things… Yes, not a single one…”

“Auntie, your family’s ox suffered the worst injury in the village. Although it’s not in danger now, it will still be days before it fully recovers. All this time, your ox won’t be able to work the field, and you’re already behind in your chores…”

“Auntie, it’s going to be a hard year for your family… I absolutely can’t accept your tools now… and certainly not the food you yourselves barely have enough of… Please, just keep your goodwill for now… In a few years, when things are better, come find me again. By then, I promise I’ll take whatever you offer, but for now, I really can’t, I just can’t!”

Faced with Wu Qingchen’s gentle refusal, the woman across from him finally set down her sack, tears glimmering in her eyes. “But… Los… you’ve helped us so much. Surely you can’t leave without taking anything at all…”

“Sigh… I know, really I do. These past days, you’ve never accepted anything from any of the villagers, and you’re certainly not about to take anything from me… It’s my fault, really. Yesterday and the day before, I searched the whole village for two days and still couldn’t find those red wild berries you like…”

The red wild berries…

Wu Qingchen’s face twitched involuntarily, freezing for a moment before he let out a long sigh.

“Well, it’s just as well you didn’t find them… Maybe… maybe next time…”

“But… but…” Misunderstanding his regret, the woman hesitated, her voice growing ever softer. “If you really don’t take anything… when Aruba comes home, I’ll surely get a scolding…”

“Well…”

Wu Qingchen glanced around, then slipped past the woman into the small vegetable patch before the cabin. After careful selection, he finally picked two small stalks of lettuce.

Holding a lettuce in each hand, Wu Qingchen turned back with a smile. “There now, Auntie. When Uncle Aruba comes home, you can tell him Los left with his hands full.”

With that, Wu Qingchen turned and walked away, his small figure receding into the distance.

Bathed in Monia’s grateful gaze and the warm sunlight, Wu Qingchen’s heart was aflame with…

Irritation.

Damn it! My precious red wild berries…

The “red wild berries” Aunt Monia mentioned were bright in color, long and slightly curved, growing on bushes. Like most wild fruit, untouched by cultivation or selection, they were pure, wild, and utterly natural—but in the mouth, they were sour, bitter, and hardly edible…

This was, of course, nature’s own defense, the result of millennia of evolution. Thus, for thousands of years, these berries had grown freely in this medieval world, almost never targeted by any creatures—at least, not by any mammals. That was, until Wu Qingchen arrived. Thanks to training from the Instruction Team, he’d learned that, with some simple processing, these berries could be turned into a spice to add flavor to roasted fish or meat.

—Which made them Wu Qingchen’s most crucial illicit seasoning.

Alas, for the foreseeable future, this precious condiment was destined to become history once more.

The culprit, naturally, was Wu Qingchen himself.

In recent days, whenever he healed a villager’s ox, the villagers would bring out their best food, seeds, tools, and even livestock as tokens of gratitude. Especially families like Monia’s, whose ox had been gravely injured and who’d long since lost hope, were beside themselves with joy, eager to give away everything they owned.

Wu Qingchen accepted none of it. After all, he’d played a major role in the oxen’s injuries in the first place, and he felt too guilty to take anything. Even without the repeated warnings from the advisory team, the choice was obvious: humble, precious supplies and crude tools, or the villagers’ enduring gratitude—it was no contest.

At first, refusing gifts made it hard for Wu Qingchen to extricate himself from their homes. But after three or five such visits, word spread, and the villagers grew accustomed to his refusals, making things much easier for him.

The unexpected happened on the third day. That afternoon, after treating the ox at the Ossis family’s house and turning down their pots and pans as usual, Wu Qingchen left the cabin.

He’d barely stepped out when he spotted several bushes of red wild berries by the roadside. He picked some, and Ossis, seeing this, asked what they were for. Wu Qingchen replied offhandedly, “They’re edible.”

That single question and answer marked the doom of every red wild berry bush in the village of Aikeli for generations to come.

That very afternoon, at the next house he visited, even before he saw the injured ox, his eyes were drawn to a mountain of fresh red berries piled high on the table.

The same thing happened at the four houses he visited that afternoon.

And at the seven houses he visited the next day.

And after that, there were no more berries to be had.

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From that day on, along roadsides, hillsides, and in the forest, not a trace of red wild berries could be seen on any bush.

The villagers had gathered them all—several whole basketsful. With no refrigerators in this medieval world, and summer at its height, the secret kitchens near the water were hot and humid, and the berries would spoil in a matter of days. Worse, the processing method Wu Qingchen had learned required fresh berries…

In short, Wu Qingchen had only himself to blame. For a long while, he would have to content himself with flavorless roasted fish and meat.

59. The Visitor (Part Two)

After leaving Monia’s house, with noon approaching, Wu Qingchen walked the village path, gathering herbs along the way.

After six days of treatment, most of the injured oxen had recovered and were ready to work again. Only a few, like Monia’s, who were gravely hurt, still needed to rest.

At this point, Wu Qingchen didn’t need many medicines. He still had plenty left from earlier foraging with Bathser, needing only to replenish some delicate varieties that didn’t keep well.

His basket, carried in his left hand, held just a shallow layer of these fragile herbs. Since their tender leaves couldn’t withstand jostling or compression, the basket held less than usual, but caring for them took more effort than ever.

Carefully, Wu Qingchen walked with steady steps, keeping the basket tilted just so, barely letting it sway…

—All routine, as usual—

Except today, the wooden bowl, rags, grass wads, and the two heads of lettuce from Monia’s home had to be awkwardly juggled in his right hand.

He circled from the north side of the village, across the stream, through the woods, returning via the path through the village, and finally to the east side. Switching the basket from left to right and back again, his arms and fingers were sore and cramped by the time he rounded the last bend and saw his own cabin.

Spotting little Nina rushing out to meet him, Wu Qingchen sighed with relief, choosing a clean patch of grass to gently set down the basket. The bowl, rags, grass, and cumbersome lettuce were already tossed aside.

Seeing this, Nina hurried over, calling out with concern, “Brother, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“No, it’s just that I had too much to carry. My hands are a bit sore… Slow down, don’t trip!”

“Okay!”

Despite her reply, Nina ran even faster, darting to his side. She scrutinized him up and down to make sure he was really fine, then grinned and looked at the things he’d put down.

“Wow…” She exclaimed at the sight of the lettuce. “Brother, you keep telling us not to accept gifts from the neighbors, yet you secretly brought back two heads of lettuce…”

“Shh, keep your voice down!” Wu Qingchen quickly clapped his hand over her mouth.

This gave him a headache.

Nina wasn’t wrong. He’d told his family not to accept any of the villagers’ gifts, as that was no different than accepting them himself—perhaps even worse.

His parents and siblings understood that taking gifts would only cause trouble for Wu Qingchen and obligate them to certain villagers, while inviting complaints from others.

So, whether it was William, Idra, Grace, Jacqueline, or Nina, none had ever accepted anything from the villagers.

Or rather, all they could do was refuse anything delivered to their door.

But what about gratitude that wasn’t a “thing” at all? That was not so easily declined…

For instance, the day after Wu Qingchen began treating the oxen, old William and his sons set out to work their fields, only to encounter five families who just happened to be passing by, just happened to have some spare tools, and just happened to help them plow.

Or, on the third day, Jacqueline went to collect hay, only to find the slope already cleared and the hay neatly bundled, with more than she’d started with.

Or, on the fourth day, when the firewood was running low, Nina set out early to gather sticks, only to find the ground already strewn with perfectly suitable branches.

And so on, and so forth…

Such situations, born of genuine gratitude or simple, honest scheming, were almost impossible to refuse.

These complications were already enough to give Wu Qingchen a headache. When Nina blurted out her remark, he hurried to hush her, glancing around to ensure no one had noticed before breathing a sigh of relief.

“Shh, keep your voice down!” he repeated, even though no one was nearby. “Quick, put them away, don’t let anyone see, or we’ll have more trouble!”

“Got it!” Nina stuck out her tongue, nodded, and hurriedly tucked the lettuce into her tunic, scooping up the tools and tiptoeing ahead.

“All right, that’s enough! Just walk normally,” Wu Qingchen chuckled, patting her on the head.

Flexing his no-longer-aching fingers, he carefully lifted the basket and walked beside Nina. He noticed how much healthier and livelier she’d become these days—her cheeks rosy, her spirits high.

It was only natural. With the agricultural officer lending them three precious oxen, the family’s summer chores were done, and they’d even caught up on old tasks. With the men free of worry, their mood was light, and Nina thrived as well. Besides, with the villagers’ help, William and his sons were home early every day, sparing Nina much of the heavy labor.

Yet, that wasn’t the main reason.

59. The Visitor (Part Three)

By now, Wu Qingchen had followed Nina back inside the cabin.

After two days of drizzle and more days of overcast skies, the air inside was damp and close. Wu Qingchen stopped as soon as he entered, sniffed the air, and frowned before striding to the inner wall.

“Nina, why didn’t you open it again? It’s been closed all day—don’t you feel… don’t you feel… don’t you feel stuffy?”

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As he spoke, Wu Qingchen walked to the back of the cabin, to a wall pieced together from planks and logs. He lifted a small plank from the wall, hooking the cloth strap above onto the log.

He opened a window.

A simple enough act—one that any ordinary person from Earth would find utterly familiar, even a child could do it countless times.

But in this medieval world, it was anything but ordinary.

After all, here, “windows” simply didn’t exist—at least, not in any house Wu Qingchen had seen.

“Oh! Brother, I forgot again… No wonder I felt like I was forgetting something…” Nina stuck out her tongue, quickly and carefully setting down the tools. “But, brother, what does ‘stuffy’ mean?”

“Stuffy is… it’s… it’s… it means your chest feels uncomfortable…”

Lacking the right words, Wu Qingchen struggled to explain. Without words like “breathing,” “airway,” or “air,” there was no way to describe the scientific reason for stuffiness.

Even the word “stuffy” itself was a makeshift creation, coined from the words for “empty” and “sick.” —It was the closest he could come.

“Oh, stuffy means your chest feels bad…”

Setting down the last of the tools, Nina clutched her chest and took a deep breath, showing a thoughtful expression. Then she exclaimed, “Brother, it’s true! Coming in from outside just now, I really did feel… stuffy, and now it’s much better! But… why is that? Why does it get stuffy inside?”

“Well… well… because… because…” Wu Qingchen stumbled again. “It gets stuffy because your chest is too far from outside, blocked by the wall…”

A vague explanation, and Nina was justly confused. “Too far from outside? Why does that make you feel stuffy?”

Why does being too far from outside make you stuffy?

Why does the ‘empty’ not enter the cabin and make you stuffy?

What is the ‘empty’?

Why do we need the ‘empty’?

If everyone needs the ‘empty,’ what happens if there isn’t enough?

Why can trees and grass make ‘empty’?

What does ‘coming and going’ mean?

Wu Qingchen could almost see a storm of questions bearing down on him, and finally understood why the world’s top experts who’d trained him would sometimes fall silent, shaking their heads and smiling wryly—it was all part of the training.

“All right, all right!”

Snapping back to the present, Wu Qingchen shook his head and smiled, pointing to another wall. “Let’s hold off on that for now. Let’s focus on what’s important today.”

“Okay!” Nina darted to the other side of the cabin. “Oh, I forgot to open the wall hole again!”

“Wall hole”—the very term showed how unfamiliar Nina was with the business of windows.

And she soon proved it again.

Standing by the wall, too short to reach easily, Nina stood on tiptoe, grabbed the cloth, and tried to lift the plank, failing twice before she paused. After a moment’s thought, she propped up the plank with one hand and grabbed the cloth with the other, finally managing, after several awkward attempts, to hang it up. After half a minute, she had finally opened another passage for fresh air.

“There! All done… Brother, is this how you open the… the wall hole?” She looked back for approval.

Wall hole…

Wu Qingchen shook his head with a wry smile, but nodded. “That’s right.”

“Whew…” Standing by the—window? No, wall hole—Nina closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again with a look of satisfaction. “That’s much better… not nearly so stuffy…”

With both windows open, a gentle breeze passed through, brushing Wu Qingchen’s cheek. Seeing Nina’s smile, he felt a wave of warmth in his chest. “That’s good. Remember to do it every day—open the wall holes, don’t forget again.”

He said this with grave seriousness—it was important.

The two windows, made from old wood and cloth, were rough and crude by any standard, whether from Earth or this world. But for the humble cabin of Wu Qingchen’s family, even these made a huge difference. The air was fresher, and with the patched roof, the house no longer leaked. It wasn’t exactly fresh and clean inside, but it was no longer musty or foul.

From the very first day in this world, Wu Qingchen had quietly enacted countless changes for his family’s health. Now, their benefits were finally becoming clear.

With rats and cockroaches eliminated, the environment improved. With secretly improved bedding, their sleep was better. With new windows and a repaired roof, the air was better. With medicines added openly to their food, nutrition was better…

And so on, and so on.

These days, with three borrowed oxen and no summer labor to worry about, William, Jacqueline, Idra, and Grace worked from dawn to dusk, racing to catch up on old chores or long-delayed plans. Their workload was heavier than ever, but their faces were brighter, their spirits higher than in years past.

Now, at last, the guest named Wu Qingchen had paid his first rent to the family who had taken him in.