A Light for All, One for Me

It was late at night when they left the Temple of the Spring Goddess. The group gradually dispersed, each heading home. Knight Nolan deliberately took a longer route to escort Gret to a crossroads not far from his house before parting ways.

Gret walked alone on the small street. He looked left and right. The houses on both sides were dark, with no sign of lights; presumably, their owners had already fallen asleep. The occasional dog bark sounded half-asleep, intermittent.

In the darkness, Gret compared it with his memory, trying hard to identify his own house. Unfortunately, it was too dark, and the houses all looked alike—low and cramped, close enough to touch the eaves with an outstretched hand. Looking around, he still hadn't found a house that looked like his. He couldn't help but feel anxious:

Was the previous owner's memory reliable or not?

To make matters worse, his stomach let out a loud "rumble" at that very moment.

Gret: "..."

It wasn't that he hadn't eaten dinner, but it was so late that it had clearly been completely digested. Where was he supposed to find food in the middle of the night?

Did the original owner store any dry rations before going on patrol?

Even if he did, after two or three days, would the black bread still be edible?

Perhaps he should have stayed at the barracks tonight? Was it too late to go back and knock on the door now?

Gret's mind was a jumble of thoughts. As he turned a corner, his surroundings suddenly brightened. Twenty to thirty paces away, a window glowed with warm lamplight. Though not bright, it was conspicuous enough in the pitch-black night.

Gret instinctively walked towards the house. After a few steps, the door creaked open. A slender woman, holding an oil lamp, cautiously stepped out. She looked up and saw Gret standing not far away. Her face lit up with joy, and she waved vigorously at him:

"Little Grete! You're back! Have you eaten dinner? -- Karen! Edward! Little Grete is back!"

With a rush, a group of people poured out of the house, led by Uncle Karen.

Gret stood frozen. For some reason, his heart ached, and his eyes welled up with tears.

In his past life, his parents had divorced when he was very young. His mother worked hard to raise him, selling hot dry noodles in the morning and congee at night. Studying medicine, practicing medicine, every semester end during school felt like the college entrance exam. After starting work, it was a continuous cycle of overtime. He never had enough time with his mother. He finally became an associate chief physician and could relax a little, but then the desire to provide for her came too late.

Since then, among the myriad of lights, there was no longer one left for him.

Until today.

"Auntie Irene..."

He murmured. The woman had already rushed over and grabbed him, looking him up and down:

"Little Grete, you're back! Are you alright? I knew that... that thing wasn't good! You really saved us this time. Uncle Karen told me everything. Luckily, you saved him..."

As she spoke, she pulled him into the house. Gret obediently followed her, was dragged inside, and pushed down in front of the table. With a thud, a full bowl of meat broth was placed before him. Half a meat bone jutted out from the bowl, its aroma making his mouth water.

"Auntie Irene, I've already eaten dinner!"

Gret tried to refuse. Before he could finish speaking, his stomach rumbled again. He was so embarrassed he blushed crimson. Auntie Irene chuckled, vigorously ruffling his hair:

"Why be polite with Auntie! You've eaten so many meals at Auntie's since you were little, and you never felt embarrassed before. -- Besides, you saved Uncle Karen's life. If you're polite with Auntie, do you expect Auntie to pay you medical fees?"

As she spoke, she bustled around the room. Swish, swish, swish, she sliced a few pieces of bread and took down a strip of cured meat hanging from the ceiling, slicing off a couple of pieces. She sandwiched them between bread and neatly placed them to Gret's right:

"A growing boy needs to eat to be healthy. Eat!"

Gret gave a sheepish smile. He no longer refused, holding bread in one hand and meat broth in the other, lowering his head and eating heartily. Auntie Irene watched him eat with a smile, then turned and shooed her sons away like chicks:

"Go, go, go! What are you looking at? Go to bed! Kids don't grow if they don't sleep!"

Uncle Karen's two sons were both younger than Gret. Edward was thirteen, and David was ten. The two boys looked enviously at Gret, wanting a bite to eat, but they couldn't resist their mother. She picked them up one by one and tossed them into the bedroom.

Gret felt a little embarrassed. Just as he was about to speak, he felt his clothes being tugged:

"Brother Grete..."

Gret turned his head.

Standing beside him was a little girl, about five or six years old, thinly dressed and frail. Under the lamplight, she looked up at Gret, timidly, her face a little pale. She raised something to his mouth:

"Brother, eat--"

Gret searched the original owner's memories and recalled that this was Uncle Karen's youngest daughter, Avril, who was six and a half years old. Gret affectionately picked her up and sat her on a stool beside him:

"Little sister Avril, why did you come down? It's cold at night..."

As he spoke, he held her raised arm and gently pressed it down. The little girl squirmed, unwilling:

"Brother eat!"

"Brother won't eat, you eat--"

"Brother saved Daddy! Brother eat!"

Avril insisted on holding her arm up. Gret dodged, but he always lost to the little girl's persistence. In his memory, the girl had always been frail, her face turning pale with slight exertion. Gret didn't want Avril to get too tired. He turned to Auntie Irene helplessly and complained:

"Auntie, really, why tell Avril about this?"

"Of course, I have to tell her." Auntie Irene watched with a smile, hands on her hips, even tilting her chin to signal Gret not to refuse. Gret had no choice but to open his mouth and let Avril stuff the thing into it.

As his tongue touched it, a faint sweetness spread. It was a piece of malt candy. In his past life, it was an insignificant candy, but it was a rare source of sweetness for the children in this world. Getting a piece often meant cherishing it for one or two months.

"Thank you..."

Gret gently stroked Avril's hair. The little girl smiled back, then suddenly burst into a fit of coughing, pressing her hand to her chest, her small face turning red. Gret hesitated, then reached out to pat her back. As he patted, his gaze dropped, and his heart suddenly skipped a beat.

It was early summer, and the weather had begun to warm up. The little girl had run out wearing slippers. Her small toes were exposed outside the shoes. On her toes, what should have been pale pink toenails appeared somewhat dark under the lamplight.

Cyanosis?!

Gret's heart pounded with alarm. He rubbed his eyes, disbelieving, afraid he was mistaken. He reached out and moved the oil lamp to the edge of the table, letting the light shine directly on the little girl's feet, and looked closely--

That's right, Avril's toenails were indeed a bit purplish, cyanosis! It was definitely cyanosis!

Auntie Irene had also rushed over by then, holding her daughter in her arms and gently patting her back. As she patted, she answered Gret's question:

"It's nothing. Avril just doesn't like to move much, she's frail and tends to cough easily whenever the seasons change."

Gret's expression grew serious. Fragments of memories flickered to the surface. Avril had been sickly since childhood, easily tired, always coughing when the seasons changed, and smaller than children her age...

After a while, Avril's coughing finally subsided, and the flush on her face gradually faded. Gret seized the opportunity to observe her closely, noting that her lips were a tender pink, slightly pale, but showed no signs of cyanosis. He then took her small hand and saw that her fingernails also had a delicate pink hue.

Lower body heavier than upper body. Differential cyanosis.

Gret's heart sank uncontrollably. All the signs combined pointed to a condition he was reluctant to suspect, yet had to consider.

Don't rush, don't rush, it might not be. Gret desperately tried to reassure himself, forcing a smile. "Auntie Irene, you know, I've recently become a Healer. Avril's cough is quite severe, could you give me a tube so I can listen to her breathing sounds?"

Thanks to @Sherry_Gray for the 100 Qidian coins tip.

Today, the ranking briefly climbed into the top twenty of the new light novel charts, appearing on the first page (though it has since fallen back down). My collection count increased by 14, sniffle... much better than only five yesterday. Thank you to everyone who voted with monthly passes, recommendation tickets, left book reviews, and gave tips~~~~

Continuing to ask for collections, monthly passes, recommendation tickets, book reviews... asking for everything