An'nan was no longer awakened by the damp and cold grass hut, but by bright sunlight falling across his bed.
Crawling out from beneath the old but warm thin blanket, the morning's coolness shook off his drowsiness.
On the bed beside him, the young man who had returned last night was still deep in sleep. Sunlight through the window warmed half his bottom, and only when it became too hot would he shift slightly, only to be caught by the rising sun again moments later.
For the next few minutes, he kept trying to escape the sun's pursuit in his sleep until he fell off the edge of the bed with a thud.
The young man got up as if this was his normal alarm clock, making An'nan's startled reaction seem excessive in comparison.
He looked at the awakened An'nan and said something brief, then, receiving no response, patted his chest and repeated the word: "Martin."
Guessing he was saying his name, An'nan pointed to himself and said: "An'nan."
"Anna?" Martin mumbled, "Sounds like a girl's name."
Only understanding the first part, An'nan corrected his pronunciation: "It's An'nan."
"Sianna?"
After spending several dozen seconds getting Martin to know and correctly pronounce his name, An'nan followed the now-dressed Martin out of the bedroom.
In the courtyard, Aunt Susan had just hung the washed pajamas on the clothesline, stroking its fleece while muttering something—An'nan guessed she was admiring the craftsmanship.
Martin, who had found joy in teaching An'nan to speak, pointed at the woman: "This is Aunt Susan."
"This is Aunt Susan."
An'nan greeted the delighted woman, only to be embraced by her robust bosom as she corrected his form of address.
Aunt Susan gently told An'nan he could stay here forever. Though An'nan couldn't understand, he could feel the kindness in her words.
Over the next few days, An'nan, unable to do much else, stayed at Aunt Susan's home, learning the language of this world and helping her family with whatever tasks he could manage.
Aunt Susan managed the household finances and all domestic affairs, Uncle Hollin was a woodcutter who left for the forest before dawn and returned in the afternoon. Martin had to chop the previously gathered wood into firewood to sell in the morning, then work at the tavern in the evening, returning late at night.
Learning a language meant frequent interaction, so Aunt Susan's family became the perfect subjects.
Martin wasn't yet of age, but looked like someone in his twenties. Healthy, strong, inheriting Aunt Susan's fine bloodline, just not very bright... as if the Creator had poured too much into strength and skimped on wisdom.
Uncle Hollin wasn't as quiet and introverted as he appeared, and his relationship with Aunt Susan was far better than imagined—their physical builds hadn't prevented them from producing Martin, their love's crystallization.
Aunt Susan adored An'nan, even showing him more favor than Martin. She worried about him being kidnapped, saying "bad people love pretty boys like you" while making him apply ash to make his skin look rough and dark.
Survival is the best teacher.
A week had passed since An'nan joined this family, but he could already communicate simply. This day, An'nan and Martin were each chopping wood at woodpiles in front of the woodshed. However, the rough axe handle had rubbed his palms raw over the past two days, slowing his wood-chopping speed. When Aunt Susan came to check, only a small pile of split wood had accumulated.
"Dear, it's alright, you need more rest..." Aunt Susan tenderly blew on An'nan's palms, then turned to scold Martin, "You stupid donkey! How is it not done after so long!"
"Why only scold me..."
"An'nan has no experience, while you've been chopping for almost ten years!"
Fortunately, they had some old wood, and An'nan accompanied Martin to sell the chopped firewood at the market.
"Sometimes I think you're really Aunt Susan's child," Martin grumbled dejectedly.
"Why do you also call her Aunt Susan?"
"She thinks I'm too stupid to be her son, it would be embarrassing."
"What about Uncle Hollin?"
"He doesn't want outsiders thinking Aunt Susan isn't his wife."
A touching story of steadfast love, but a sad story for Martin.
"Are you laughing?" Martin turned his head while carrying the firewood.
An'nan quickly hid his smile: "No, I don't understand."
At the market, Martin stood at the street corner selling firewood while An'nan's attention was drawn to the bustling marketplace, taking in this world's customs and culture.
A regular customer bought their firewood—about 50 pounds of split oak heartwood sold for 20 copper coins. On the way back, An'nan told Martin: "I want to find something to do."
"You could come work with me at the tavern as a helper."
An'nan partly guessed what Martin meant, and when he told Aunt Susan, she worried about his ability to understand.
"He just needs to serve drinks and clean tables," Martin promised, thumping his chest that he would look after An'nan.
"Well alright..."
Having an extra person had indeed made expenses a bit tight.
That evening, Martin returned with good news: "Mr. Fast wants me to bring you tomorrow morning."
...
On a comfortably sunny morning, the scent of wheat wafted from the street-side bakery.
An'nan followed Martin to the Dawn Tavern.
Few people in town liked visiting taverns during the day, so few taverns opened during daylight hours.
In the dim tavern, chairs were upturned on tables, and the smell of alcohol had seeped into every piece of wood.
"Mr. Fast, we're here!"
The man called Mr. Fast was a middle-aged man with messy brown hair, appearing unkempt, wearing tall boots and a thin sword at his waist.
He examined An'nan, pausing at his black hair and eyes: "I don't recall anyone in Pine Forest Town having black hair."
"He's my distant cousin!" Martin shouted.
"...Hmph."
Fast narrowed his amber eyes, not exposing Martin's poor lie. "Six PM to midnight, one silver coin per week, tips from customers are yours to keep. Evelyn will tell you about other evening shifts, or ask Martin."
"Why do I only get 70 copper coins?" Martin discovered his salary was the lowest.
"Because you're too ugly."
An'nan successfully passed the interview. To celebrate, Aunt Susan specially bought some meat and prepared a hearty lunch for him.
In the satisfying afternoon after the meal, Aunt Susan worried about An'nan's work and carefully instructed:
"He might make mistakes at the tavern..."
"I'll take good care of him."
"If you see him stealing food or getting into arguments with customers... tell him that's wrong."
"Leave it to me!"
"That's wonderful! Thank you, little An'nan."
An'nan, entrusted with such expectations, shyly said: "You're too kind."
"Ah... I'm still worried..." Aunt Susan sighed, grabbing a broom and walking towards Martin, who was still cleaning the dining table. "Martin!"
At dusk, An'nan and Martin arrived at the Dawn Tavern.
They entered through the back door. An'nan tied on his apron in the back kitchen, ready to begin his first job in this world.