Banquet

Hamuul lifted the curtain and entered the tent, with Sian cautiously following behind him. As he stepped over the threshold, he kept praying to the Earth Mother not to make him stand out so much, but his wish went unanswered.

Curious gazes turned toward him, most of them friendly. They all seemed to be wondering the same thing—who was this little fellow?

Being watched by so many eyes at once felt awful. Sian shifted his stiff shoulders and sincerely felt uncomfortable.

Hamuul leaned back slightly, standing beside little Sian and drawing some of the attention away from him. He gently stroked Sian's trembling back, smiled kindly, and nodded to every guest present.

Sian secretly raised his head and saw the purple-skinned people smiling as they returned Hamuul's greeting. That eased him for the moment and gave him time to look over the guests.

From right to left, the first guest to enter his sight was a sturdily built middle-aged male elf.

He was hard to overlook. His bearing was completely different from that of the other elves present. He wore a short green beard, and though his brows and eyes were not aggressive, he still looked imposing. His expensive upper garment did not seem particularly suited to his powerful build. Sian felt it was probably not his usual clothing. Though he seemed slightly uncomfortable in it, he still sat straight and dignified. He was probably a very strict person.

How should Sian describe him? Right—he inspired awe without anger.

Looking at him, Sian seemed to see those elderly, stern scholars.

Yet from the simple shoulder guard adorned with feathers and leaves, Sian caught a glimpse of what he was originally like. He was actually a Druid who kept company with the Wilds.

But Sian was still somewhat puzzled. In the familiar stories, Druids were always peaceful and serene people. They were accustomed to staying far from conflict and silently guarding nature. Such tranquil temperaments naturally tended to produce approachable faces.

But the one before him seemed a little different. Though he concealed it well, Sian still saw a trace of anger and sorrow hidden deep within his blue eyes.

He had not noticed it without reason, for he had gone through those same emotions not long ago.

He remembered a saying—there were countless reasons for happiness, but the reasons for misfortune were surprisingly alike.

He had always believed that saying, because sorrowful people always carried the same scent.

So Sian thought to himself, Could this poor man have lost family too?

At that moment, he suddenly wanted very badly to speak with him, or even just move a little closer.

But he did not know whether such a rash act would bring the man comfort or tear open his old wounds again. After thinking it over, he ultimately did nothing.

Sian sighed and looked toward the next guest.

She was a beautiful female Night Elf. The moment he saw her cool, distant face, a familiar feeling welled up in his heart. She was the Sentinel general renowned for both beauty and talent. Her posture as she fired a longbow had left a deep impression on Sian. He remembered that she seemed to be called—

Shandris Feathermoon?

The name stirred some distant memories. This female Sentinel had been quite a famous figure in a video game from his previous life, but he could no longer remember the specifics of the story clearly.

Sian could not help feeling deeply disappointed. Memory really was an unreliable thing.

Still, the experience of being able to experience the story of one's next life in a previous life was truly strange. But that had only been an extremely narrow part of his life—a game. There was no way he could remember every detail without omission.

Sian wanted to continue observing, but he had spent a little too much time doing so, and the banquet was about to begin.

Hamuul took his hand, just like a real grandfather leading his grandson,

The two of them walked around the neatly arranged seats and slowly made their way to the left side of the dining table. Cairne Bloodhoof sat in the host's seat, smiling and nodding at little Sian. He lightly patted the seat beside him and beckoned, apparently wanting Sian to sit next to him.

Hamuul gently squeezed his shoulder, seeming to encourage him to sit down boldly.

It was Sian's first time experiencing such a strange public occasion, and his face turned bright red with embarrassment. He felt as if his face had been soaked in scorching steam, while his hooves felt as heavy as lead and refused to move.

In the end, he did not even know how he managed to sit down. He only knew that he used too much force and nearly toppled backward, but the chieftain reached out and firmly steadied his stool.

Sian's terrible performance seemed to greatly ease the solemn atmosphere of the banquet, and everyone began to laugh.

It was not just the Tauren. Even the Night Elf guests smiled kindly, and even the expression on the stern Druid's face softened a little.

Most of those smiles were kind, though some laughter sounded sharp and grating. But Sian could not care about that now. He only wanted to bury his head deeper, preferably beneath the table.

"Honored Chieftain, is this little fellow your son?"

The Druid smiled as he asked Cairne Bloodhoof.

"Please call me Cairne, Archdruid Staghelm. Whether in age or experience, I truly cannot bear such a title."

The chieftain lightly patted Sian's head and said with a smile, "As for a son... I wish he were. Unfortunately, I am only this child's uncle. His father is a little busy, so I took him in to care for him for the time being."

Thinking of his much younger cousin, Cairne could not help sighing. In some ways, this little fellow was exactly like Carl had been as a child.

During those passionate and reckless youthful years, shy Tauren were truly rare. Yet this father and son had somehow made a pair.

But Cairne did not see this as a sign of cowardice. On the contrary, he understood even better how brave these two bulls could be when protecting the people they loved.

"Please forgive me, but I cannot do that, because youth and experience are not reasons for us to judge a person."

The Druid shook his head and said solemnly, "If we sincerely respect someone, it must be because we have been won over by their admirable qualities. It may be wisdom, kindness, or compassion, but never something like age, which can simply be accumulated through time."

His words rang with conviction as his stern gaze swept across his companions' faces. Some Night Elves were cowed by that sharp look, while others still held their heads high with pride.

"I think I understand, Archdruid Staghelm."

Cairne nodded gravely. "Just as the Earth Mother tirelessly teaches us, treat nature kindly; every blade of grass and every tree can be a teacher. We are accustomed to learning from her embrace, and I believe the same is true of people. We should not fear seeking instruction. Only with humility and courage can we walk alongside the wise."

They both offered each other sincere smiles, understanding that the other possessed great wisdom.