Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Mei Luo's voice sounded like divine gospel to Mudufa and the others.

"Is it the fever-reducing medicine?" If Mudufa wasn't holding Nuosa in his arms, he would have grabbed Mei Luo's hand tightly.

Looking at their flushed faces, Mei Luo's eyes stung slightly. It was such a blessing to have caring loved ones—unfortunately, she had none.

"Yes, I asked clearly. They said if it's for a child, give half a pill first. Wait until the sundial's shadow moves half a mark, then check if there's any change.

"If the fever hasn't gone down but hasn't worsened either, give him another half pill.

"After two pills, if there's still no improvement, you can take him to see the Lord Holy Son.

"However, the Lord Holy Son is very busy and may not be available." Mei Luo quickly explained everything she had asked about to Mudufa, then took out a small pouch, unwrapped the green leaves inside, and handed them to him.

Mudufa glanced around cautiously. They were huddled together, so no one seemed to notice they'd gotten medicine.

Still, lingering was risky—better to let Nuosa take the medicine first.

Mudufa had his eldest son take one pill from the leaf packet, break it in half, and press half into Nuosa's mouth.

After stuffing the pill into his younger brother's mouth, Mu Jibu immediately took the water flask from his waist and gave him a big drink of water.

The pill was tiny, and before Nuosa could even taste it, he swallowed it down with the water.

After administering the medicine, they didn't dare to leave right away. They took Nuosa to the shade of a tree and waited for the medicine to take effect.

"Ah! The fever’s gone down—it’s really not hot anymore!" A surprised voice rang out nearby. Dazed, they hurriedly reached out to touch Nuosa’s forehead. It was still warm, but not burning like before, and his expression seemed less pained. Was it their imagination?

They looked up and saw each other's stunned expressions, realizing none of them had spoken those words.

Mudufa slowly turned his head to look around. Many others were waiting there just like them, their joyful expressions surely suggesting their family members' conditions had improved.

Glancing back at Nuosa, Mudufa and the others desperately hoped for good news.

Outside the church, the massive sundial's shadow crept slowly. As the time approached, Nuosa’s fever still hadn’t broken. Mudufa gritted his teeth, eyes red, and told Mu Jibu to feed Nuosa the other half of the pill.

"Mm." Mu Jibu blinked back tears and fed Nuosa the remaining half.

Under their anxious gazes, Nuosa’s red face gradually cooled.

Mudufa bent down, touching his forehead to Nuosa’s, then looked up in delight at Mu Jibu and Mei Luo. "It’s not hot anymore—really, it’s not!"

Mu Jibu and Mei Luo each took turns touching Nuosa’s forehead. Confirming it was no longer burning, they both sighed in relief.

Just as they were about to leave with Nuosa, Mudufa seemed to remember something and stopped. "Wait here. I need to ask them something."

"Respected Lord Bishop, thanks to the Divine Lord's grace, my child took the medicine, and his fever broke.

"But I’m still worried it might return. What should I be mindful of?"

"First, let the Apprentice Saint answer this. I must now perform blessings before the Divine Lord for the congregation."

Harry, who had been stopped, eyed the man’s attire and snorted inwardly. This pauper was lucky—just in time for the Lord Holy Son’s bestowed grace.

Too bad he asked the wrong person. Harry didn't know what precautions to recommend—the Lord Holy Son still refused to teach him, a sinner.

While instructing the Apprentice Saints on making small pills, Ning Chan had thoroughly explained the causes, symptoms, treatments, and care methods for these two illnesses.

Of course, he only mentioned the simplest causes, such as changes in weather, contaminated food, or mosquito bites.

More complex situations would need to be taught gradually in the future.

Due to the recent changes in the church, Pado and the others had become very dedicated to learning about the Sacred Plant and healing.

For them, what mattered wasn’t saving others, but ensuring they themselves were no longer suffering.

When faced with those seeking advice, they followed Ning Chan’s method—asking questions one by one and providing answers based on the situation. If nothing matched what they remembered, they would ask the person to wait while they prayed for divine guidance.

However, they’d never laid eyes on a god—the only one they could ask was Ning Chan.

After spending these days together, they realized that Little Chantulika was something else entirely.

They had once thought the child was just sharp for his age, but the bishops’ attitudes were too strange—they weren’t the type to show mercy to a clever child.

Hearing their private suspicions, Ning Chan silently cursed those hacks for their awful acting, nearly exposing everything.

To prevent Pado and the others from "guessing" his identity too quickly and revealing it, Ning Chan decided to tone down the "chosen one" act, only showing the side of being the "heir to the Holy Lord" for now.

"Little Chantulika, how do you learn things so fast? What’s your secret?" Pado cautiously asked Ning Chan, trying to understand their current situation.

Ning Chan frowned at Pado, as if unsure how to answer. After thinking for a while, he slowly replied, "A trick? Watch, listen, and it sticks."

"What?!" Dongmi, who had to read a herb’s effects several times before memorizing it, widened his eyes at Ning Chan in disbelief.

"The bishop says I’m—well, *holy*—ah, no, I think he said I was god-touched with wisdom, that I have a great talent for learning. He even said that with my abilities, I might become the next Holy Lord!" Ning Chan waved the book in his hand, oozing smugness.

The sudden shift in Ning Chan’s words caught Pado’s attention. Holy—Holy Lord?

Wait—was Little Chantulika not a fake Holy Lord like them, but the real deal?

Otherwise, there was no explaining why these people treated him with such reverence.

Now that he thought about it, it seemed that after the fire in the overgrown shrine garden leading to the underground altar, the bishops’ attitudes had changed.

There was a line in the scriptures they often recited: "Flames will consume life, but only the soul of the gods shall be reborn in the blaze.

Disease will make the faithful suffer and die, but the merciful gods will send their messenger, emerging from the flames.

The Holy Lord, bearer of hope and light, shall snatch his faithful from the reaper’s grip."

This—this matched perfectly!

Before, Little Chantulika had been so ill he was nearly dead. They had even heard the bishops were preparing to have him thrown out of the church to die outside.

But who would have thought the little one would recover, and even look downright *revived*?

Then came that fire that came out of nowhere, burning the entire garden.

The bishops must have remembered this passage and decided to teach them about medicinal herbs on a whim.

And then, the child’s talent was revealed—memory like a grimoire, mind like a sage’s.

Those who should have had one foot in the grave lived because of his help!

Faced with what might be a divine messenger, no way those pompous bishops weren’t sweating bullets.

With Chantulika breathing down their necks, they naturally didn’t dare to pull any more shady crap.

Ning Chan discovered these people holding secret meetings behind his back and eavesdropped on the entire conversation.

Then, a series of mental exclamations flashed through his mind: "Damn," "Amazing," "They actually pulled that off?"

The quick-thinking teens, combining what they had learned, successfully covered for Ning Chan, leaving him no chance to fix his own story.

Now, since Ning Chan was willing to teach them, they were naturally willing to learn. As for how extraordinary the abilities of this true Holy Child were, they all pretended not to notice.

In their minds, although Little Chantulika might be a divine messenger, he had descended from the heavens with his memories sealed and was now just an "ordinary" child. His "memories" and "abilities" would gradually unlock over time, and only then would he become a true Holy Lord.

If they prematurely revealed Chantulika's identity now, it might cause some negative consequences.

Since they could still get by as things were, they decided not to delve deeper into the issue for the time being.

Meanwhile, after learning from Pado how to care for Nuosa, Mudufa pulled out his coin pouch, withdrew some copper coins, thanked the gods for the advice, and took Nuosa and the others home.

He had already made up his mind—if Nuosa recovered, he would search for medicinal plants in the surrounding areas and deliver them to the church.

After selling medicinal pills for a while, Ning Chan, upon hearing the reported income and plant conditions, realized this couldn’t go on.

With their swarm-like stripping of plants, they would eventually wipe out the plants completely, which was detrimental to long-term sustainability.

Standing in the Sacred Plant garden filled with various medicinal herbs, Ning Chan watched as small butterflies dusted with glowing green specks fluttered above them. The wind gently rustled their leaves, and these plants, which should not have been grown together, flourished with wild energy.

Indeed, Chinese heritage—farming’s in their blood.

With fertilizer already in preparation, shouldn’t they reconsider their inefficient farming methods and low-quality seeds?

A week later, Lis Church spread the news again—they would provide premium seeds to the people, allowing them to exchange them with their own harvested grain.

"Premium seeds? What kind? Will they make the wheat yield more?"

"Maybe bigger ones? Are these godly seeds? Eating them might make our bodies stronger."

"Divine seeds? Probably not. The bishops didn’t mention that. We commoners probably can’t stomach holy crops."

"They said we should bring our grain to exchange. How’s that supposed to work? Our family doesn’t have much stored this year!"

At this moment, a wealthy merchant from a neighboring city, originally there for fever and diarrhea meds, heard the news and immediately instructed his subordinates to prepare grain.

If the news about high-quality seeds was true, he could exchange for them all and resell them later—that’d be a goldmine!