Aunt Susan patted her chest in relief, thankful that An Nan had returned. Meanwhile, An Nan worried about Tasia's safety.
Back home, he found Old Zoren, who had escaped harm, sitting in the courtyard, telling the story of how a large figure had saved him.
When An Nan asked if it was Tasia who saved him, Old Zoren stumbled through his memories: "I didn't notice, but whoever saved me... seemed to have... horns..."
Tasia was safe.
Then Aunt Susan began shooing Old Zoren away. After nearly getting her little An Nan killed, he still wanted to stay for dinner?
Tonight's dinner consisted of the roasted meat they'd brought back and some washed wild vegetables, cooked together and served with black bread.
While An Nan was still breaking his black bread into the meat soup, Aunt Susan had already hurriedly finished her bread.
"Why are you eating so quickly?"
"Housework isn't done yet," Aunt Susan said, beginning to tackle the day's accumulated chores.
"Susan used to eat even faster when she was young."
Uncle Holin's gaze followed Aunt Susan as she left the kitchen, remembering years ago when Susan had swallowed an entire loaf of black bread in her hunger.
That was the moment Holin realized he had to marry Susan.
"Was Aunt Susan always so..."
An Nan hadn't yet learned words like 'plump' or 'voluptuous', but language's charm lies in its appropriate silences.
"Of course not, she was quite thin before," Holin remembered the girl he'd dug out from a pile of corpses. "Back then, we did everything we could just to survive..."
Now... well, as a woodcutter living in town with a house and family, Holin's build was comparable to that of an average professional, but standing next to Aunt Susan, he looked like a monkey beside a brown bear.
An Nan ate slowly, the black bread being bran bread. Given that seeking medical attention was troublesome in these parts, he could only chew very carefully, practicing what Aunt Susan called his "aristocratic" way of eating.
After dinner, he helped Martin wash the dishes and spoons, then fell into deep sleep in the simple town that had no nightlife.
Early the next morning, An Nan asked Aunt Susan to help him find daily-paid work. However, it was Uncle Holin who helped, finding him a decent job—he had a friend who cleaned stables for a certain knight but had fallen ill, and An Nan could replace him for two days, just cleaning stables and feeding horses.
Uncle Holin ran out early to make arrangements, agreeing that An Nan would substitute for two days for 30 copper coins.
An Nan could go alone, but Aunt Susan worried and had Martin escort him.
Past the prosperous streets of Pinelin Town stood a mansion in a garden, its character starkly different from the town. The patrolling guards were notably more frequent than around Aunt Susan's house.
"Someday I'll let Uncle Holin and Aunt Susan live in a big house like this," Martin mumbled dreamily.
Circling past the mansion's main entrance, An Nan met the waiting stableman, and after sending Martin back, followed him into the courtyard stables.
The stable had no odd smells, and An Nan wasn't required to do the most troublesome tasks of feeding and washing the horses—just occasional manure cleaning.
During his free time, An Nan admired the garden's greenery and flowers, occasionally gazing at the white-washed mansion walls, imagining how many gold denars it would cost to buy such a garden mansion.
Of course, he most enjoyed chatting with the stableman.
But since the stableman didn't enjoy it, An Nan returned to staring blankly at the garden and mansion.
In the afternoon, An Nan's unfocused eyes suddenly fell on a figure appearing on the terrace.
A purple lace dress outlined a voluptuous form, with wavy hair carelessly draped over shoulders. The red lips beneath the straight nose were stunning.
An Nan thought she looked familiar, and the woman on the terrace seemed to think the same.
Though Aunt Susan had smeared ash on An Nan before he left home, his black hair was quite distinctive.
Was this the fourth or fifth time meeting the Wine Lady?
But her furrowed brow of suspicion spoiled their seemingly fated encounter: "Are you following me?"
However, being quite far away and not understanding well, the wind-carried question reached An Nan's ears as just "you... me?"
At this crucial moment, An Nan had a flash of inspiration, remembering Mr. Fast's teachings.
"Yes..."
The Wine Lady's eyebrows gradually relaxed, her lips curving upward. She remembered this boy "claimed" not to know Common.
"Why are you here?"
This time An Nan understood, picking up the manure fork from under the shed and holding it up to show.
"Mr. Fast left, I'm working!"
"I hope our next meeting won't be in my bedroom."
An Nan understood half and guessed the other half, thinking to himself that he wanted to become a mage, not a thief.
Just as he wanted to say more to Mr. Fast's "boss," she had already turned and left the terrace. With the Wine Lady gone, An Nan could only return to practicing language with the stableman.
Click—
The Wine Lady opened her door to the knock, and Sir Sean worriedly said, "The servants said they heard shouting from your room, I was concerned something had happened."
"Just saw a familiar little fellow and lamented the lack of scenery outside."
"Certainly can't compare to Breezetown at the foot of the Snow Mountains..." Sir Sean stepped aside from the door, following the Wine Lady, "A familiar little fellow?"
"A boy working odd jobs everywhere. I'd like something to eat."
Sir Sean waved his hand, having servants lead the Wine Lady to the dining room first. He went to the perfume-lingering terrace.
He surveyed the empty garden and the only visible stable.
Leaving the terrace and room, the man called the butler: "Anything happening in the garden or stables recently?"
"Uh... a stableman took leave yesterday, and found a young man to replace him... is something wrong, sir?"
"Nothing."
Though the master said it was nothing, the butler thought otherwise. He hurried to the stable, shouting at the young man who looked up: "You..."
Those clear eyes made the butler strangely swallow his usual harshness, changing his words mid-sentence: "unfortunate fellow, the knight has noticed you, better leave before he makes trouble for you."
The butler didn't know why Sir Sean had asked, he just didn't want trouble.
An Nan had to leave after working just a few hours, not even receiving today's wages.
This unfair treatment was clearly related to the Wine Lady.
Without work, An Nan pondered where else to earn money. The tavern had spirits, the restaurant had coffee and tea, even poor houses had some impure glass panes—all these blocked An Nan's ideas of making money through simple means.
Gunpowder and papermaking? An Nan didn't know if this world had them, and even if not, he couldn't recreate them... though there was supposedly a spell that could recall forgotten memories.
But this created a paradox: An Nan needed to become a mage to remember forgotten knowledge, but needed the forgotten knowledge to afford becoming a mage.
On his way back, An Nan still gazed longingly at the library with his yearning for knowledge, and at the old man sitting in the sunlight behind the window.
For the next two days, An Nan was forced to accompany Martin chasing wild dogs and having forest adventures. On the third day, Mr. Fast finally returned from the city.