The night was black as ink, and the cries of Gray Mist Village gradually subsided.
In a mud house on the east side of the village, under the halo of an oil lamp, the man Tumo was frantically pouring a dark herbal concoction into his son's mouth.
"COUGH, COUGH... PTHOO!" Although the child's complexion wasn't as frightening as it had been in the afternoon, he still couldn't keep anything down.
"It's no use! Tumo, this stuff is useless!" Anna fumed, watching her husband's clumsy efforts.
"Didn't you hear? The York family went quiet just after dark. They must have gone to see the Lord!"
Tumo flinched. "Shut up!"
He glanced nervously outside, shut the door tight, and lowered his voice. "Sigh! Don't get any wild ideas! Let's just try the herbs again. This is a recipe passed down from our ancestors. My father said this medicine is a miracle worker!"
Anna snatched the cracked bowl from Tumo's hands and smashed it on the ground with a loud CRASH.
"Bah! Don't talk to me about your father. He died in his forties! What good is his word on what works?!"
Then she pointed at their son groaning on the straw mat, her tears finally breaking free. "So what's your plan? Our son throws up everything he drinks. Do you think he can wait for you for a few more days?"
"And that Old Walker is unbelievable! It was one thing when none of us in the village knew any better, but now the Lord has proven the water is poisoned, and he's still clinging to that 'Spirit of the Swamp' nonsense. I guess it's a good thing his own son died young!"
The more Anna spoke, the angrier she got, until she grabbed her husband by the collar.
"I don't care about any ancestors! The ancestors are dead, but my son is alive! Tumo, if you're still worried about your damn pride today, then tomorrow you can get ready to bury me and our son!"
Veins bulged on Tumo's neck as the collar tightened. He looked again at his son, and the hesitation on his face finally melted away.
He'd spent his whole life obsessed with his reputation, known among the villagers as the most "proper" young man. But now, none of that was worth a damn compared to his son's life.
He gritted his teeth. "Let's go. For our son, we'll go!"
But then, a slyness characteristic of a farmer appeared on his face. "Hey... we need a plan. You wrap up the boy, we'll sneak out the back, and we'll say... we're going into the woods to pick some Clear Dew Grass. Yes, Clear Dew Grass!"
The more he spoke, the more brilliant he thought the idea was. "When the boy gets better and people ask, we'll just say it was thanks to the Clear Dew Grass! It has nothing to do with the Lord! We save our son and save our pride. Isn't that perfect!"
Anna looked at her husband. At this moment, she couldn't be bothered to despise his petty scheming. She just nodded frantically and, with swift movements, wrapped the child in ragged cloths.
Like a pair of thieves, the couple hugged the walls, stumbling and shuffling their way toward the only lit tent at the village entrance.
Tumo mentally rehearsed his excuse several times before finally mustering the courage to carefully lift the tent flap.
Then, he froze for a moment before immediately turning to leave.
Anna, not knowing the situation inside, saw her husband's cowardly posture and her anger flared. She kicked him straight into the tent.
The gust of wind from Tumo's fall blew the flap open, and warm candlelight spilled out, revealing a tent full of familiar faces.
His neighbor John, the widow Lina from the west side of the village, the hunter Dark... every family in the village with a child was there.
Seeing Tumo's family make their conspicuous entrance, Velin didn't even raise an eyelid. He just jutted his chin toward a corner.
"You're here? We were all waiting for you. Find a spot to squat for now. Get in line."
His tone was as casual as if he were commenting on the weather.
The originally spacious tent was now definitely overcrowded with more than a hundred people. Everyone was either squatting or standing, each holding a listless child. The air was thick with the smell of herbs and... an unshakable awkwardness.
They exchanged silent, knowing glances.
Silence... Silence was Gray Mist Village tonight.
Velin sat by the fire, leisurely poking the embers with a small stick. In front of him, a crucible was propped up over the flames, filled with a bubbling green liquid that gave off a faint, pleasant aroma.
After a little while longer, the medicine was ready. Xiaolan quickly began to distribute it, patiently explaining to each person, "The Lord said this is a remedy made from charcoal ash and Acidleaf Herb. The charcoal absorbs the poison, and the acid neutralizes it. Drink it while it's hot."
With Xiaolan's meticulous help, the treatment process went smoothly.
In just a quarter of an hour, the medicine began to take effect.
Frequent coughing turned into faint wheezing, the children's purple-tinged faces gradually regained their color, and their convulsing bodies slowly calmed.
The son in Tumo's arms slowly stirred awake. Though weak, he could already open his eyes and, with a hoarse voice, call out, "Papa."
Tumo's tears streamed down in an instant.
'Why is it so hard just to live a peaceful life?'
That night, the villagers of Gray Mist Village tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
The next morning, when Velin once again stood in the center of the village, he was no longer met with hostility and suspicion.
"Those who want to live, those who want your children to live, will follow me to a new home today." Velin's voice wasn't loud, but it reached every person's ears clearly.
After a moment of silence, Tumo, holding his son who could now walk on his own, was the first to silently walk over and stand behind Velin.
With someone taking the lead, the crowd no longer hesitated. One person, then two... a trickle became a stream. More than eighty percent of the villagers made their choice with their feet.
They brought their families and carried their meager belongings, gathering into a silent but determined torrent.
Old Walker stood his ground, looking at the few scattered families remaining behind him, his murky eyes filled with confusion.
'It had only been one night. What had happened to his fellow villagers? Could the Lord have cast a spell on them?'
Velin watched him, waiting for a final answer.
Old Walker's stooped back finally seemed to collapse. He raised his head, the hostility in his murky eyes replaced by nothing but pleading.
"Is... is everything you said... true? The children... can they really... survive?"
Velin's gaze was solemn. "I promise, before the first rain falls, everyone will be living in new homes, sheltered from the wind and rain."
"You don't have to believe me," Velin said, turning and walking toward the road leading out of the village. "But you'd be wise to follow and see for yourself."
The great migration began.
At the tail end of the procession, Xiaolan followed the crowd, her mind heavy with thoughts, too preoccupied to wipe the sweat from her brow.
She didn't dare look at the still-weak children. Every time she heard their laughter, her heart felt like it was being pricked by a needle.
「Four days earlier, in the lord's tent.」
"Boil these, mash them, and after dark, pour everything—solids and liquid—into that temporary pond they dug."
Xiaolan accepted the sprouted potatoes her master handed her.
"Remember, make sure no one sees you."
Xiaolan said timidly, "Master, but I... I don't dare."
Velin paused for a moment, recalling what Lilia had told him about Xiaolan's... interesting misunderstandings about nobles.
"Xiaolan, you know me. I don't need a disobedient maid. If you can't carry out the task I've given you,"
Velin put on a troubled expression. "then I'll have no choice but to give you to my cousin, Leonard. I hear he keeps some goblins and is always asking me for disobedient maids..."
Xiaolan's eyes immediately filled with tears.
'Who is this Leonard? Why is he so twisted!'
In the end, Xiaolan gave in, and the secret became deeply embedded in her heart.
Everyone knows potato sprouts are poisonous. The toxin may not be strong, and it may have all been for the villagers' own good.
But in the end, this was the first time she had ever... personally harmed someone.
Her eyes took on a gray, lifeless quality.
'I'm no longer clean,' she thought.