The village chief's house looked noticeably wider than the other single-story homes in the village, and much cleaner and tidier as well.
The damp scent of earth after the rain mingled with a faint smell of firewood in the air. Several treated animal hides hung on the walls, while unknown herbs dried on the racks below, as if they had been hastily brought indoors because of the sudden downpour.
No lamps had been lit. Only the dim, dusky light from outside the window barely illuminated the room.
The three of them sat around a wooden table.
The white-haired, white-bearded village chief sat at the head of the table. Though his face was full of the furrows left by age, his eyes were still clear, and at this moment they carried an unconcealable trace of worry and caution.
Aspen sat beside the village chief, his body taut. The muscles beneath his linen shirt stretched the fabric slightly, and a bit of nervousness showed through his otherwise steady expression.
Xia Nan sat across from them, a little farther away from the two. The two Longswords were still strapped to his back, and naturally, he had no intention of taking off his armor. His expression was calm and mild.
"Mr. Xia Nan, you must be tired after coming such a long way." The village chief was the first to speak, his voice hoarse and courteous. His aged hands, covered in calluses, gently pushed a bowl of cloudy Ale across the table to Xia Nan.
"On behalf of all the villagers of Fog Lamp Village, I welcome your arrival, and thank you for your generous help to Aspen and Winter Tree."
"Our village is remote, and outsiders rarely pass through. Please forgive us if our hospitality is lacking."
Xia Nan accepted the clay bowl