Blessed by Abundance, Scourge of Terra

The medical technology of this era couldn't compare to the Rhodes Island period centuries later—if you got wounded on the battlefield and survived, that was already lucky, and missing limbs was the norm.

"So, sisters, would you like to give it a try? I can see you all have some minor issues."

Huang Cao suppressed the excitement in his heart—not that he had any ill intentions lurking in his mind.

He'd already seen what there was to see back in summer; what he lacked now was hands-on medical practice.

Before his transmigration, Huang Cao had always been clumsy, which was why he decided to try his hand at something more delicate.

"And how would one go about trying?" Lamian asked curiously.

The youth said nothing, simply pulling rubber gloves out of his toolbox.

Thankfully, rubber already existed in this era, or handling physical contact would have been a real problem.

Whether he wore them or not made little difference, but at least it showed his rigor and saved both sides unnecessary trouble.

After all, the technique he was about to demonstrate required skin-to-skin contact, not to mention touching certain sensitive areas.

"Madam, please lie down on the bed, and I'll show you."

Early the next morning, a large group of Banshees, including Lamian, emerged from the small hut supporting each other, faces flushed.

Their expressions were all deeply relaxed, as if they'd just soaked in a hot bath.

"Welcome back anytime!"

The instigator of this scene, Huang Cao, expressionlessly tossed the rubber gloves into the trash bin.

Don't get the wrong idea—while last night's developments had indeed been a bit improper, if he'd stirred things up just a little more, it might have turned into a full-blown party.

But fortunately, his high moral standards and thirst for knowledge curbed that restless impulse.

The main reason was that he had no choice. Though Huang Cao talked a big game about thinking things through, he wasn't actually prepared.

Besides, his body wouldn't allow it—was his soul form even his personality?

Even in his soul form, his sense of touch wasn't particularly sharp.

Following the massage manual Huang Cao had compiled himself, the Banshees weren't exactly cunning monsters, so their ability to control their expressions was far from good.

Even the most reserved Lamian nearly let out a soft moan under his massage technique.

At first, the Banshees were a bit shy, but seeing the youth's serious, handsome face with not a trace of malice, some of the bolder ones stepped forward first, volunteering to experience this so-called Yan Country Massage.

The result was predictable—once you've had the first, can the countless follow-ups be far behind?

In just one night, half the River Valley's Banshees had fallen.

Why only half?

Because the other half hadn't come yet.

As for where the massage was applied—well, every inch of their bodies became Huang Cao's experimental operating table.

Lamian, on behalf of the Banshees, accepted this outsider and provided him with a place to live.

Huang Cao carried his medical kit to the house Lamian had assigned him—another small wooden hut, furnished with only a crude wooden table and stool, the floor bare earth.

But the hut he'd used as a massage parlor last night had the same setup. From his year of observation, the Banshees lived simply enough.

It would probably take decades for them to truly develop.

The Banshees had arrived in the River Valley a year ago. Though Huang Cao had already transformed the environment, the absence of Originium and whether it was habitable were two different things.

Primeval forests had no Originium either, but that didn't mean people could live in them.

The Banshees had to clear the land while also farming for food. A year of hard labor had left them with no shortage of minor ailments—nothing they noticed day to day.

But with just a little massage, they could feel the relief.

This was the result of someone's year-long observation. Every day except winter, at a fixed time, he'd watch the Banshees soaking in the river.

As an onlooker, Huang Cao knew exactly what minor issues each Banshee had.

And it wasn't just massage—he'd also prepared many medicinal formulas.

The herbs in those formulas could all be found near the valley.

Since the only thing Huang Cao had brought was his medical kit, the Banshees assumed this youth knew nothing about the local terrain or vegetation.

Some herbs in his formulas simply couldn't be found around here.

So when writing them, Huang Cao made sure to note that these were simplified versions—find what you can, and don't worry if you can't.

That way, he reduced the chance of raising suspicion.

After tidying up a bit, Huang Cao, having thoroughly served the Banshees, made a new discovery.

Silently ranking the tactile sensation of the Banshees' front armor in his mind, Lamian still took first place.

"This face really comes in handy. Should've taken the easy route and eaten soft rice before becoming a wage slave."

He quietly stored last night's lessons in his memory, deleting any descriptions that might seem too strange, leaving behind only scientific and rigorous records.

At least after this book is published, Lamian won't be able to cause him any trouble.

Because it was truly too rigorous—rigorous to the point of containing not a single element beyond science.

"Oh, a guest has arrived."

Just as Huang Cao had finished hanging the clinic's sign on the small wooden cabin, he suddenly sensed that a special guest had appeared at his small shop in the neighboring town, so he immediately switched his consciousness back.

Theresia—had he already caught her attention this quickly?

Huang Cao's soul body sometimes moved very slowly, allowing his roots to gradually extend into the area as he traveled.

This way, he could teleport his soul almost without delay, while also gathering information faster.

The speed of information transmission was no slower than a network.

Truly worthy of the goddess's blessing!

He just didn't know the name of that goddess—she seemed like a very gentle deity.

Chapter 10: The Banshees Felt They'd Struck Gold

"Not here today? Don't tell me I scared him off."

Theresia had stuffed a full pocket of silver coins, trekked over mountains and rivers to get here, and now you're telling me it's closed?

On the sign, Huang Cao had written that he'd gone to restock and would be closed for a week.

But in this freezing, snowy weather, where were you restocking from?

Theresia sensed something off.

She circled the shop and noticed the owner seemed very meticulous.

The surrounding snow had clearly been cleared—a shovel was still lying nearby—so she found no footprints.

Though the Sarkaz were poor, they kept their word. Before leaving, Huang Cao had hired a few people to clear the snow around the area every morning.

Of course, this didn't stump Theresia. She easily picked the iron lock and stepped inside.

Curious passersby glanced in, only to find the shelves completely empty.

Not even a single grain of rice.

"Could he really have gone to restock? A week... but no matter if it's to Leithania or Victoria, a week isn't enough to even reach the border."

Theresia was deeply puzzled. These past days, she'd sent troops to investigate the shop's whereabouts, but they'd found nothing.

It was as if the owner had vanished into thin air, disappearing without a trace.

Was she really just going to have to wait for him to return?

Here, Huang Cao had exposed a fairly major flaw. Being absorbed in studying Da Lei and biology, he wasn't well-versed in this world's geography—only a rough idea.

But it wasn't a complete flaw. If the grain was stored in the surrounding area, a week could still allow for transport, and it could evade border patrols.

That was exactly why Theresia had come. Whether or not she could find a trade route that broke the blockade, as long as there was a stable food supply, she'd even turn a blind eye.

So she decided to wait.

And that wait lasted a week.

Over that week, the banshees in the River Valley truly understood what it meant to have an all-around talent.

He might not be a master of everything, but he could do a bit of everything.

Backed by his vast Originium information database, Huang Cao was capable of almost any task.

Playing instruments, singing, fixing things—he could do nearly anything. His speech was humorous, witty, and polite, making it impossible to dislike him.

This was clear from last night's massage—the banshees really liked this youth.

In theory, they'd been completely seen by him last night without realizing it, since he'd massaged every part of them—there was no way he hadn't seen anything.

Yet something so embarrassing had been enjoyed in silence by all the banshees living here.

After returning to their rooms, many of them found it unbelievable.

It was as if Huang Cao had a natural affinity, combined with his handsome looks—the kind of good-guy image you could see coming from a mile away in a novel.

Lamian also found it strange. In just one night, her group's wariness toward the youth had dropped to its lowest point.

"Maybe he really doesn't have any bad intentions. But I still need to observe him for a few more days."

Lamian had grown quite fond of the child too. The pace of life in the River Valley was steady and monotonous—having someone so humorous, witty, and sunny around didn't seem like a bad thing.

Meanwhile, Huang Cao was still hard at work clearing the snow and building a fence around the cabin.

He had to admit, it was pretty exhausting.

It wasn't a matter of ability—he could easily use his roots to drag the fence into the ground.

But that would risk exposure. Fine work was fine, with low energy consumption; heavy labor was also manageable. But if it was both fine and heavy, Huang Cao struggled.

He could burst forth and drag an entire valley underground in one go, but he couldn't sustain that explosive state for long.

It hasn't fully developed yet, and the goddess can't just hand out an overpowered cheat like that.

The mental drain was too great; after a short while, he had to rest.

So before long, the Banshee elder sisters took the initiative to take over Huang Cao's work, and Lamian couldn't bear to see a child suffer.

If this planet's rotation and revolution weren't too different from his previous world's, then Huang Cao's age of over twenty before crossing over was truly minuscule on this land.

Not to mention that his current appearance looked far too young.

And on top of that, he had a handsome face—being born with a natural talent for living off others wasn't just empty talk.

"Ah, damn, I've been spending too much time with the elder sisters and forgot the real business—I haven't opened my little shop yet."

The little shop was also the most crucial part of his future plans. The valley was isolated, and if he wanted an identity that wouldn't be seen through, he'd need to stay for at least a decade or so.

The main storyline was still a few hundred years away—take it slow, no rush. The little shop was his key channel for gathering information.

When people died, they returned to Originium, but if they hadn't died from Originium Infection, the transmission of their information would be somewhat delayed—far less reliable than word of mouth.

Besides, there was no guarantee of finding it. The Originium Database was vast, but it didn't encompass everything.

Just as Huang Cao was about to head out and open his shop, he saw two "big" Banshees holding hands as they arrived at his clinic door.

"Is it okay today, Mr. Huang Cao?"

There was a longing in the Banshees' eyes—not lust, but the kind of longing for comfort.

Of course, it was second only to massage. Though strictly speaking, this massage was only a thin paper-thin line away from the plot of a doujinshi.

After all, they had to meet without barriers—how could you give a full-body massage through thick clothes?

Of course, massaging in thin clothes wasn't impossible, but this era didn't have the tank tops of a few hundred years later. Coarse cloth was already a luxury—who would make you a special outfit to hold things in place?

And Huang Cao was very professional while working, honing his skills and refining his techniques as he practiced, which was evident from the expressions on the Banshees' faces.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have earned Lamian's trust so quickly.