Difficult Life, Smooth Passage (Revised)

Alos sat on the tavern bench, his brow furrowed in a difficult dilemma. Recalling old Sailu's words, his lifeless eyes were filled with desolation and despair.

"Mr. Sailu, did you ask for me?" Alos walked into Sailu's living quarters.

"Little Alos, sit down and let's talk. Is Mishaer doing alright?" Old Sailu lowered his voice, his expression heavy with worry.

"She's... she's okay." Alos sat clumsily on the chair, feeling quite at a loss.

"Little Alos, I'll be blunt." The tavern owner and village head stared at the nervous Alos. "You should know that winter is coming soon, and the candidates to stay behind this year haven't been decided yet. What are your plans?"

"Mr. Sailu, haven't we always been the ones to stay behind?" Alos stood up, agitated, and asked loudly.

"Sit down, little Alos! If William were still alive, I certainly wouldn't be worrying about this. But now that William is gone, the villagers are in a panic over who will stay, and we can't wait any longer. This matter must be settled as soon as possible," Sailu said in an unquestionable tone.

"Sir, then what is your decision?"

"I have decided that no one will stay to guard the village this winter."

"No! Mr. Sailu! You can't do that. My sister's body is too weak; she won't be able to withstand the wind and cold on the road." Alos looked panicked.

"Little Alos! You must understand these people—none of them are willing to stay. If I force the arrangement, those who remain will vent their anger on you and your sister."

"Then let my sister and me stay, Mr. Sailu! I beg you!" Alos pleaded bitterly.

"Little Alos! Don't be foolish. If you do that, both you and Mishaer will lose your lives. The starving goblins won't spare two poor children," old Sailu said, sounding somewhat angry.

"But if we go back to Mirabar, Mishaer will die too. She is too weak to make it to Mirabar. Wuwuwu..." Alos collapsed onto the table, sobbing heart-brokenly.

Old Sailu watched the weeping Alos, his heart softening, almost agreeing. But he realized that if he agreed, the young siblings would surely die. If they left, at least Alos might survive; losing one was better than losing both. Thus, old Sailu hardened his heart and urged:

"Things aren't as bad as you imagine. Perhaps Mishaer can make it to Mirabar. Once we reach Mirabar, we can find a cleric to treat her; Mishaer might get better!" Old Sailu had never felt so sinful in his life. Forgive me, little Alos.

"It is settled. I will announce this decision to everyone tomorrow morning." Old Sailu practically fled the room.

"But we have no money; we can't afford a cleric." Alos remained silent, despair filling his heart. As a fourteen-year-old boy who had just lost his brother and was now watching his sister head toward a dead end, he was on the verge of a total breakdown.

In the northern winter, the snow was vast and travel was impossible; no merchants would pass through Gnome Village. Therefore, when the first snow of winter fell, most of the people in Gnome Village would rush back to the city of Mirabar to avoid the bitter cold and the harassment of monsters. Gnome Village would leave one or two people behind as winter guards to watch the village and prevent cold, starving goblins from turning it into their nest and ruins. However, who would willingly choose to stay in this desolate, godforsaken place, risking the cold and their lives, when they could live in a warm, comfortable, and safe castle? Originally, the foster father of William and his siblings—a limping old adventurer—had been the village's winter guard.

After the old man died, William and his siblings took over the job. William's strength combined with little Alos's intelligence was enough to handle the work. Normally, with William gone, Sailu, the village head and tavern owner, would randomly select two people from the militia to stay as winter guards; any militia member could be chosen.

No one wanted to face loneliness and death in the desperate winter. Now that William had returned alive, it meant no one had to stay behind to suffer. This was the reason the two militiamen at the door were "overly enthusiastic" toward Chen Jinyang.

The militiamen who had just finished their shift walked into the tavern happily. Seeing Alos looking half-dead, one asked excitedly, "Little Alos! Why are you still sitting here? Hurry home and see—William is back!"

Alos lay on the table, half-dead. "What does William coming back have to do with me? Wait, what did you say?! William! You... speak clearly!!! My brother is alive and back?! You!! I...!!" Alos jumped three feet high like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his words incoherent with excitement. The bench beneath him was kicked askew, landing right on the foot of the approaching militiaman, who winced and clutched his feet.

"Ouch! Alos!! Ouch! I was kind enough to tell you the news about William, and you hit me with a bench! Ouch! Ouch! It hurts! You little brat, Alos!"

Alos ignored him and rushed out of the tavern toward home. The sudden news of survival and the excitement of being snatched from the jaws of death made his heart feel as if it were about to burst from his chest. With the fiery pulse, a brilliant, vivid red bloomed beneath Alos's pale skin, and his whole body began to steam. Unfortunately, no one noticed this strange change, and Alos, caught in his frenzy, didn't notice it either. In less than a minute, that intense heat almost set him ablaze.

Chen Jinyang was carrying a bucket of water to the door, preparing to open it, when he saw a figure shrouded in steam running toward him. Wondering who was bored enough to play with fire stunts, he reflexively splashed the bucket of water over the person, causing a cloud of mist to rise. Alos, whose brain was overheating to the point of losing consciousness, was instantly jolted awake by the cold water. He stood frozen in place, staring blankly at Chen Jinyang, who held the empty bucket.

Chen Jinyang recognized the person. Oh! The flood has washed away the Dragon King's temple; I've splashed my own brother. It looked like the boy had just undergone a bloodline awakening; he wondered if there would be any side effects from that bucket of water. Feeling awkward, Chen Jinyang scratched his head and gave a silly smile. Seeing the thin, frail Alos start to cry, Chen Jinyang panicked—he was splashed into tears by a bucket of water? That can't be right.

Just as Chen Jinyang was about to say something, Alos suddenly threw himself onto him and began to wail. Alos cried and rambled on in a flurry of words, but Chen Jinyang couldn't understand a single one.

The boy cried for a while. With the heavy pressure and worry of the past few days finally released, he could no longer hold on and drifted off into a deep sleep. Holding the sleeping red-haired boy, Chen Jinyang felt a headache coming on.

"You two really are siblings; even your sleeping patterns are identical. What a headache." Chen Jinyang sighed, unaware that the siblings had been unable to sleep for the past two days due to worrying about him. Now that their worries were gone, exhaustion had naturally taken over. However, Chen Jinyang's bucket of water had actually done them a favor; Alos had awakened his fire bloodline due to emotional agitation. Without that cooling, while the internal heat might not have killed him, it would have been enough to turn him into another fool.

Chen Jinyang picked up the red-haired boy, carried him inside, removed his wet clothes, wiped him dry, and tucked him into another sleeping bag under a wool blanket. Looking at the two sleeping children, Chen Jinyang began to worry. With two weak children in tow, he still had to pretend to be a fool to survive in this dangerous, backward, and savage world. The days ahead would surely be tough. Sigh! One step at a time.

Chen Jinyang drew another bucket of water and began to slowly clean the horn-adorned helmet he had taken from the goblin leader. The helmet was light, with a nose guard in the front, made of an unknown deep-gray crystal. The two curved horns on top were not real horns; they were crystalline, warm, and moist, covered in complex, mysterious patterns. They fit the main body of the helmet perfectly, as if they had grown together. If not for the obvious difference in material, one would think it was formed as a single piece. The cleaned helmet was exquisite and unique—a perfect work of art. Wearing it on a goblin's head was an absolute desecration; he truly wondered where those goblins had obtained such a treasure.

(At this moment, in a mysterious wizard's tower, a grand mage was brutally abusing his goblin slaves: "You lowly, shameless, greedy, inferior creatures, ungrateful thieves! Do not let me find that escaped, disgraceful slave. I will turn its soul into an undead and burn it on the nether-flames, letting it repent for its mistakes in eternal agony.")

Chen Jinyang was fiddling with the horn-adorned helmet (let's call it that for now) when he heard footsteps outside. He shoved the helmet under the bed and sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, resuming his innocent, silly smile. A middle-aged man with a thick, short beard and a prominent nose pushed the door open—it was Sailu, the tavern owner. Sailu was stunned by Chen Jinyang's appearance, and even more surprised to see the sleeping Alos and Mishaer. He waved at Chen Jinyang and said, "William! Come out for a moment!" Chen Jinyang knew he was the leader here, so he followed him out of the house. Experienced adults were not easy to fool; Chen Jinyang wondered how he could pass this final test.

Sailu led Chen Jinyang to the stables. Despite his suspicions based on his men's descriptions, Sailu wanted to confirm it with William personally, even if William might not be able to answer. "William, what happened in the forest?" Watching Chen Jinyang scratch his head and smile foolishly without saying a word, Sailu shook his head helplessly. He then pointed to Chen Jinyang's head and asked, "What happened to your hair?"

Chen Jinyang felt a bit guilty. Seeing Sailu pointing at his head, he thought: Is he asking where my hair went? That's easy to handle.

Sailu hadn't expected an answer from William anyway. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly saw William perform strange movements: William first mimicked holding his head, then acted as if his whole body was on fire, flailing about, and finally mimicked holding his head again. After finishing, Chen Jinyang scratched his head and began to smile foolishly.

Sailu had a look of sudden realization. "Oh! You were scared and ran away at first, then when the ogre chased you, you were so terrified that your body suddenly caught fire. Then the ogre was scared off, your hair was gone, and you hid. Finally, you returned to the camp and brought back the adventure team's supplies." Sailu looked at Chen Jinyang with a "just as I thought" expression, his face full of pity.

"William, you really have awakened a warlock bloodline. What a pity! If only you were a normal person. Sigh!"

Chen Jinyang maintained his eternal, silly head-scratching smile. This guy is changing expressions and muttering and sighing—did he actually understand my gestures? Impossible! I don't even know what they meant.

Chen Jinyang was dragged along by Sailu for a while longer, washed the dust off his body, found some clothes in the tavern's living quarters to change into, and joined the villagers for dinner in the tavern—large chunks of bread and potato stew. During the meal, everyone came over to greet him and incidentally patted Chen Jinyang's smooth head. Chen Jinyang kept his face stiff and responded with a silly smile to everyone.

Before he could finish his meal, Chen Jinyang, whose facial muscles were cramping from the effort, fled the scene, leaving behind a room full of loud laughter.