Wild Hemp Grass

In the end, Kelly could not persuade the young master and had no choice but to agree to spend the night.

The banquet held by the village was, of course, far from luxurious. It was, in fact, quite rustic, consisting of simple dishes made from local crops and common poultry. But the unique, earthy charm of it was something to be savored. This was especially true for the young master sitting next to Ard, his eyes filled with a bright, unadulterated curiosity for this kind of simple feast.

Kelly and her knights, declining the village chief’s kind offer to join, insisted on standing guard. After a quick meal provided by the villagers, they left to patrol the surrounding area. Yexi, seeing the others so busy, seemed to get an itch in her own hands and went to help, perhaps just to get the feel of it again.

“Is this your first time at a village banquet, my lord?” Ard asked.

“Yes,” the young master said, his eyes shining with joy. “Everyone seems so happy, and their feelings are so genuine. It’s completely different from the banquets I’m used to.”

Ard guessed that the banquets the boy spoke of were the social gatherings of high society, filled with scheming and intrigue, where few could truly enjoy themselves. The villagers, of course, were different. A feast like this was a rare occasion, and everyone was reveling in the moment.

Ard asked thoughtfully, “I haven’t had the honor of learning the young master’s name. Would you be so kind as to tell me?”

The young prince hesitated, then stammered, “C-call… call me Rh-Rhode. Yes, Rhode.”

“…” Ard looked at ‘Rhode’ with an amused smile. It was obviously a fake name; who would have trouble remembering their own? Rhode, realizing this, gave an awkward laugh.

Ard didn’t let him squirm for long. “Well then, little brother Rhode, what brings you here? As you know, Baron Quentin’s lands are not exactly peaceful.”

Rhode quickly seized the new topic of conversation to escape his embarrassment. “I was visiting an old acquaintance in the neighboring earldom of Gabi. I’m on my way back to the capital now, so I was just passing through.”

“So you’re a noble from the capital,” Ard said, understanding. His eyes flickered to a small emblem on the corner of Rhode’s tunic. His pupils contracted for a fraction of a second before he quickly masked his reaction.

“This is for you. Thank you for helping us.”

Little Cora, who had been playing at the feast, suddenly came skipping over to Ard and the young master, presenting them with two wreaths woven from wildflowers.

“Thank you,” Ard said, smiling as he gently patted her head.

“Thank you,” the young master also said, accepting the wreath with delight. He examined the gift with interest, then placed it on his head. After delivering her gifts, Little Cora happily ran off to play again.

The aged village chief approached them. “For the great kindness you have shown us, we should have prepared more. But please, forgive us. We are just poor folk and cannot offer a greater show of gratitude.”

Ard shook his head. “This is more than enough.”

Rhode also added quickly, “I agree. The banquet is wonderful.”

“I am relieved that you are both satisfied.” The chief sat down on the ground with them, his weary eyes gazing at the villagers who seemed to have cast aside all their worries for the night. A deep affection and a profound sadness filled his gaze. “Thanks to the two of you, I haven’t seen everyone this happy in a long time.”

Ard also looked at the villagers, who had momentarily forgotten the misery of their lives. He suddenly understood why the old chief had insisted on holding this banquet, even though it would further strain the village’s meager resources. It wasn’t just to thank them; it was to give the long-suffering villagers a chance to release their pent-up frustrations. With Rhode and his guards present, at least for tonight, they didn’t have to live in fear of a bandit attack.

Though it was only a temporary reprieve—Rhode and his knights would not stay, and Ard would not linger—and though tomorrow they might return to a life of uncertainty, at least tonight, they were safe.

“You’ve worked hard, Village Chief.” Ard suddenly felt a pang of sorrow. These were pitiful people, truly ordinary folk with no money, no power, and almost no chance of advancement. They were just like him before his rebirth, crushed mercilessly by fate.

Rhode, who had been wondering why the chief was thanking them again, now sensed the heavy weight beneath their words, thanks to the observational skills he had learned at diplomatic banquets. He fell silent.

He could only say, his voice thin, “I will lodge a protest with Baron Quentin.”

The village chief gave a bitter smile. “Thank you for your kindness, young master, but I hope you will not do so. We humble folk cannot bear such a grace.”

Ard lowered his head. He understood what the chief meant. If protests were effective, Baron Quentin would have been turned into dried pork long ago. A useless protest would only provoke the petty baron’s retaliation, and these villagers were, after all, still his subjects.

Rhode bit his lip, not knowing what to say, perhaps regretting his own powerlessness.

“Ah, look at me, an old man, burdening our saviors with such talk. What a killjoy I am.” The chief slapped his own face and stood up with a cheerful smile, all traces of his earlier dejection gone. “Let’s not think about these things tonight! Let’s all celebrate together!”

And with that, the chief joined the merry crowd, and like the other villagers, seemed to forget everything.

Ard patted Rhode’s shoulder. “I imagine you’re in no mood to celebrate either. You should get some rest. And don’t blame the village chief. He wasn’t looking for us to solve his problems. He just needed someone to listen. The burden on his shoulders is too heavy.”

“Oh, right.” Rhode was startled, then saw Ard leave, presumably heading for the room the villagers had prepared for him. Rhode didn’t see the sharp, calculating glint in Ard’s eyes.

After the joyous banquet came the deep, silent night.

Yexi, having finished her work, also went to the room the villagers had indicated. She pushed open the door to find Ard sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped, his face a mask of deep thought.

Yexi blinked, closed the door, and casually sat down in a nearby chair.

Ard, hearing the door, looked up and saw it was her. “What is it? Do you need something?”

Yexi tilted her head. “I was about to ask you the same thing. Isn’t this my room?”

Ard said, surprised, “But the villager told me this was my room.”

“…”

Ard and Yexi looked at each other and fell silent. It seemed the villagers had misunderstood them as a couple, or even husband and wife.

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter. A place to sleep is all I need,” Yexi said casually. “What are you thinking about so deeply?”

Ard said calmly, “I want to save this village.”

“Why?”

“This village was protected by Rhode and his guards once, but they won’t be so lucky a second time. And this time, they’ve drawn too much attention. The bandits will be watching them. After Rhode and his men leave, they will likely retaliate immediately, perhaps as soon as tomorrow night.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” Yexi’s voice suddenly came from his right. Ard was startled. He looked up to find she had vanished from the chair and was now sitting beside him on the bed. He turned his head and met her gaze, their faces mere inches apart. He felt as if her golden eyes were as bright and dazzling as the sun.

“Why do you want to help them?” she asked again.

Ard was stunned for a moment, then understood her meaning. He said with a carefree air, “No reason. It’s just what my heart tells me to do.”

“So you’re a so-called ‘do-gooder’?”

“You’re wrong, Yexi,” Ard said, a frank smile on his face. “A do-gooder condemns others for not helping, but is too cowardly to act themselves. I, on the other hand, am truly going to help these villagers, to act on the impulse in my heart.”

Yexi looked at him deeply, then lowered her gaze. “But saving people requires power. And you have none. Did taking care of a few panicked small-fries go to your head?”

“Of course not. But just because I don’t have power doesn’t mean others don’t. Power is something that can be borrowed.”

“I have no desire to get involved in such a troublesome matter.”

Ard gave a wry smile. “I figured as much. That’s why I wasn’t counting on your strength.”

“Are you thinking of using that troop of knights? They may not be bad people, but their primary duty is to complete their mission, not to hand out charity. They will likely be gone by morning.”

“They are a possibility, but as you said, using them would be too difficult.”

Yexi frowned. “Then what do you plan to rely on? Surely not the villagers themselves?”

Ard’s eyes lifted, and he sighed. “I wish it could be them. After all, it’s better to rely on oneself than on others. If they could defeat those bandits with their own strength, it would surely sweep away years of oppression and revitalize their spirits. But that’s too much to ask.”

“Then what do you plan to do?”

“That’s what I’m saying, I haven’t figured it out yet,” Ard said, lying back on the bed with a long sigh. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I got back, but I have no answer. From ancient times to the present, in any time or place, the victor must have at least one of three things: the right time, the right place, or the right people. The time is not something I can control. As for the people… they’re a scattered mess. The place… the area around this village is all plains… wait, it’s not all plains.”

As if struck by a thought, Ard shot up and asked Yexi, “When we passed through that valley today, what were you so surprised about? And you know the truth about the Lake Spirit stealing souls, don’t you?”

Yexi nodded. “I was surprised because that valley was full of wild hemp grass.”

“Wild hemp grass?” The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Is that grass very rare?”

“The grass itself is not rare; you can sometimes see it by the roadside. What’s rare is to find it growing so densely in that valley. Although wild hemp grass spreads its seeds far and wide and produces a large number of them, the plant itself has very strict growing conditions. Usually, a single area can only support one or two clumps. That valley was at least the size of two football fields, yet it was almost completely covered in it.”