Chapter 17

Chapter 17

At first, the person who said this was just making a joke in casual conversation with those nearby.

His friend also joined in, playing along with the joke, and no one took it seriously.

Even if it smelled enticing, it wasn’t like it was served in a bowl—who’d be dumb enough to dig through a pit?

They occasionally went there to check, not just to transport waste but also to make sure no one stole the mature fertilizer, which could affect the growth of the Sacred Plants.

But later, when it actually happened, they had no choice but to believe that jokes could sometimes come true.

A bunch of ragged, skin-and-bones folks, chewing on grass with bits still stuck to their lips, appeared nearby.

Then, as if triggered by something, they made a beeline for the fertilizer pit.

Just as they were about to jump in, a farmer hauling manure hurriedly shouted at them.

"What are you doing? You can’t go there!"

Since the fertilizer couldn’t be exposed to direct sunlight during fermentation, the pit was covered with a straw mat, making it look like a cellar at first glance.

The leader of the group wiped the drool from his mouth and retorted loudly, "What’s stopping us? Isn’t this where you’re hiding food?"

"Right, you’re just trying to stop us from eating!"

"You folks got it so good here—sparing some grub won’t kill you."

"Exactly! We’ve been starving for days. Even if you bring more people, even if we die right here, we’re going to eat it!"

Starving and desperate, they spat out threats before charging into the pit.

They thought to themselves: *We don’t know what you’ve hidden in there, but if it smells this good, it must be something valuable.*

The farmer who tried to warn them got goosebumps as he saw their bloodshot eyes. He had the unsettling feeling that if he kept blocking them, they’d rip him to shreds.

In that moment of hesitation, he forgot to say the most important thing.

There was no food there—at best, it was a Sacred Plant compost pile; at worst, it was just a manure pit.

*Hell, times are so tough. Look at these people—so hungry they’d brawl over crap. I couldn’t even stop them.*

Watching them jump in one after another like lemmings off a cliff, the farmer could only back off, grimacing.

*Gotta keep my distance, or I might get splashed when they climb out.*

Still, he was decent enough to yell the truth before running off, hoping they’d get out quickly.

"I told you there’s no food there—it’s just a manure pit! Why’d you cut me off?"

The people who had already jumped in, now submerged in fertilizer: *Why didn’t you say that earlier?!*

*Damn, this place so fancy they scent their crap?!*

Of course, this mess hadn’t happened yet. If Ning Chan had known something like this would occur, he’d’ve posted a huge sign beforehand.

Right now, Ning Chan knew nothing about it and was still busy peddling fever meds and anti-diarrheals.

At this point, just a handful of people in line were buying the medicine in advance, for a rainy day.

Mostly, it was families with sick members at home. When they heard the news, they rushed over in a hurry, eager to get the medicine and administer it to their sick family members on the spot.

Mudufa was one of them. His child had been ill for days, and last night, the fever spiked so high that no amount of cooling with water could bring it down.

Nuosa, his youngest, was always healthy, lively, and sweet—the family’s little joy.

Not just Mudufa, but Nuosa’s older siblings adored him too.

Even the youngest sibling was ten years older than Nuosa, and whenever their parents were too busy to care for him, they took over.

They’d watched him grow from a tiny "kitten" into a toddler trailing after them; how could they not care deeply for him?

Now their precious child was slipping away. Mudufa couldn’t accept it, and neither could Nuosa’s brothers and sisters.

But no matter how unwilling they were, what could they do? Nuosa seemed under a curse—the fever wouldn’t break.

If this continued, even if the fever eventually subsided, Nuosa’s mind would be damaged.

Yet compared to losing him entirely, they considered this a lesser evil. All they prayed for was his survival.

Desperate, Lililuo went to Lis Church to pray for her brother, hoping for divine guidance.

On the way, she overheard talk of fever medicine being sold nearby.

Lililuo perked up at the news.

"Really? The medicine’s that strong?"

"Of course! You think this is ordinary stuff? It’s a divine recipe bestowed by the gods."

"The way you ask tells me you haven’t heard of Lis Church’s miracles."

"Miracles? What miracles? Did they save someone with a high fever too—the kind that burns to the touch?" Lililuo’s mind was filled with thoughts of Nuosa’s illness. The child had always been closest to her. Every time she came back from her husband’s, he would run around asking how she was, whether she had been mistreated like their neighbor sister.

No one knew where such a young child picked this up. He was clever beyond his years, like a little mama bird fussing over everyone.

At the thought of Nuosa’s smile, Lililuo’s bitter expression softened slightly, and a glimmer of hope returned to her eyes.

"A fever? That’s nothing! Ever heard of the man-eater tiger?

"Someone on the street was attacked by a man-eating tiger or a beast like it—ripped open with a gaping hole in their belly, intestines nearly spilling out.

"Everyone thought the person was beyond saving. They were taken to Lis Church, prepared for a holy burial after death. But who knew? The Saint Ning revived them! Word is they’ll be back on their feet soon."

"A torn belly is nothing! I heard of someone who had already died—no breath left—yet somehow, the Saint and his followers brought them back. Everyone says it was divine blessing, that Death itself released them back to the living."

Lililuo’s heart raced with hope. If what they said was true, taking her brother there would surely save him.

Without hesitation, she turned back mid-journey, and sprinted toward home. She had to tell her mother to bring Nuosa there.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Seeing Lililuo about to leap from the cart, Meiluo, her traveling companion, quickly grabbed her arm.

"You heard what they said. I want to take my brother to Lis Church—see if they can save him."

Meiluo was the abused neighbor sister. Without Nuosa’s family’s help, she’d never have survived that house.

So, she was equally invested in saving little Nuosa.

She bit her lip and looked down, "Go get everyone. I’ll buy the medicine."

Lililuo widened her eyes and looked at Meiluo earnestly, "Hmm, I don’t even know if this fever medicine is expensive. I'll give you all the money I have, so please handle it for me."

With that, Lililuo took out a small pouch she carried close to her body and stuffed it into Meiluo's hand. She then stopped the carriage and sprinted home like her life depended on it.

Meiluo clutched the pouch in her hand, her refusal stuck in her throat. This silly girl, wasn’t she afraid she’d run off with her money?

Lililuo ran home as if her life depended on it, her legs like lead, dragging through mud, growing heavier with each step. Her breath burned, metallic with the taste of blood.

She didn’t know how long it took, but she finally reached home. Leaning against the doorframe, she tried to speak, but her throat felt blocked, leaving her only able to gasp for air.

The air inside was thick with grief. Her mother was still weeping, and her father’s expression was stormy with worry.

Unable to speak, she hammered on the door, drawing everyone’s attention toward her.

"What’s wrong?" Mudufa’s brows furrowed even deeper at the sight of Lililuo. Hadn’t this child already left? Why was she back—and in such a state?

Finally catching her breath, Lililuo hurriedly spoke, "Nuosa—Nuosa can be saved! Take him to Lis Church. They have a way!"

"What?!" Everyone in the room straightened up, their eyes locked onto her, blazing.

Lililuo quickly recounted what she had heard on the road, laying it out quick.

"If that’s true, then let’s take him there and try," Mudufa said, looking at his wife’s devastated expression, hoping the news Lililuo brought was true.

And so, Mudufa and his eldest son carried little Nuosa and booked it to Lis Church.

When they arrived, a knight in full armor emerged from the church and announced loudly to the crowd, "We’re out of fever and diarrhea meds for today. If you still want some, you’ll have to wait a few days."

Hearing this, Mudufa’s vision darkened, and he almost buckled under Nuosa’s weight, if not for his eldest son steadying him.

Those still in line were equally dissatisfied with the outcome, yelling about their cash or dying kin.

But all they received in response was that the Sacred Plant’s in short supply, making it impossible to produce more medicine. They had to wait until the missing medicinal herbs were replenished before production could resume.

Mudufa stared at the man’s cold expression, holding Nuosa so close he almost dropped to his knees at the church’s entrance—when suddenly, someone called out to him from the side.

"Uncle Mudufa, you’ve finally arrived."

Mudufa turned toward the voice and saw his neighbor’s daughter-in-law. He found it strange—why would she say that, as if she had been waiting for them?

"What is it? Do you need something?" Though their mood was terrible, since they had been addressed, they couldn’t just brush her off.

Meiluo blinked, as if worried about something. She glanced around before leaning closer to Mudufa and whispering, "I scored the meds. Should we dose Nuosa now?"