For Xia Nan, whose Constitution attribute had reached 8 points and whose stamina recovery efficiency far surpassed that of ordinary people, a mere 6 to 7 hours of sleep each day was sufficient to fully replenish his energy. This made his perception of a "24-hour day" feel far longer and more durable than in his previous life.
At present, despite having already completed a full training regimen outside the town, washed up, and undergone two failed probing attempts with the tavern owner and the town blacksmith—and even taken a stroll around the central square—the time was still only morning.
As a reference, when he returned from the square, Horak was eating breakfast in the inn's common hall. The two members of the Blackwood Squad, as adventurers, might have risen slightly earlier than him, but they had only just finished organizing their gear and come down from the second floor.
"You mean... all the residents of Goat Horn Town have already been affected by that thing?"
Seated at the dining table, Margaret frowned, her voice low enough for only those at the table to hear, laced with astonishment.
"At least the innkeeper, the blacksmith who clashed with Mr. Horak yesterday, and a few peasant women in the town square are like this."
Xia Nan gave a slight nod.
He didn't answer directly, but the three distinct backgrounds—"tavern owner," "blacksmith," and "peasant women"—were enough to illustrate the breadth of the gem's influence.
They were all in the same boat. Aside from parts involving his own secrets, he had no reason to withhold intelligence. Taking advantage of everyone being together, he shared the information he had gathered and some of his own conjectures with Margaret and the others.
He also hoped his teammates, with their far richer adventuring experience, could help broaden his thinking and find the key to breaking the deadlock.
"It shouldn't be..."
"If that priest truly believes in the Goddess **'Shangtia,'** how could such an existence's doctrine allow something that affects the human mind to spread unchecked within the town?"
Beside them, the dwarf Thorin voiced his own doubts.
Regarding this, Xia Nan had had similar thoughts just moments ago, on the way back to the inn after leaving the square.
The answer was actually simple, boiling down to two possibilities
1. Priest Moen was aware of the Pastel Gems, and the current situation in Goat Horn Town was something he tacitly permitted, or even secretly orchestrated. 2. Priest Moen knew nothing about the gems and, just like the ordinary residents, had fallen victim to the gems' charm effect—after all, he was merely a clergyman in a remote town's church, not some **Divine Chosen** watched over by a deity. Let alone mind control; even if he dropped dead on the spot, the **'Goddess of Agriculture,'** with her billions of believers, might not necessarily take notice.
Faced with Thorin's question, no one at the table could provide an answer.
Everyone fell into silence, seemingly by unspoken agreement.
But there was no doubt that at this moment, they all likely held answers in their hearts similar to Xia Nan's.
The situation in town was perplexing. If it weren't for the discovery that the **'Dreamweaver Corridor'** was the "natural enemy" of the Pastel Gems—capable of not only easily dispelling their charm effect but also absorbing their energy to charge the device—Xia Nan would have packed up and left long ago; he would never have gotten involved this deeply.
Now, the merchant caravan members were also increasingly sensing the complexity of Goat Horn Town's situation. As captain of the Blackwood Squad, Margaret tossed the dark golden braid draped over her shoulder behind her back, looking across the table at Horak with a serious expression as she suggested
"Mr. Horak, how much longer until the caravan's goods are finished being processed?"
"Continuing to stay in town... is very dangerous."
"To avoid falling into unnecessary trouble, please expedite matters, Mr. Horak. We need to leave as soon as possible."
Faced with the female swordsman's urging, a look of helplessness appeared on the wealthy merchant's round face.
He didn't answer, merely turning his head to look at his assistant, "A-Fu," the caravan's second-in-command, sitting beside him.
"Mr. Horak and I already discussed this last night," A-Fu took over the conversation, explaining proactively.
"In fact, to speed things up as much as possible, we've even stopped caring about the price of the goods; selling at a loss doesn't matter."
"What's truly consuming time right now is the replenishment of supplies."
"From Goat Horn Town to River Valley Town, the journey takes over ten days. Even if we can find small villages to rest temporarily and buy rations from villagers along the way, under the most frugal calculations, we still need to purchase at least ten days' worth of provisions."
"And that... takes time in a remote town like Goat Horn Town."
"But please rest assured, I've already passed the word down. Everyone in the caravan knows the urgency of the situation; absolutely no one will delay."
"Once supplies are replenished, we can depart immediately!"
Saying this, A-Fu suddenly hesitated.
A rare look of hesitation appeared on that usually stern and rigid face. His lips moved twice before he slowly spoke again, lowering his voice to the absolute minimum.
"It's your call to make. If the situation in town really develops to the point where we must leave immediately... please take Mr. Horak and leave town first. I and the other caravan members can follow later..."
"A-Fu!"
Horak interrupted, his usually kindly, round face now devoid of expression.
He clapped his hand heavily on the other's shoulder twice.
After a moment of silence, he merely shook his head slowly
"Don't think so much. Just get your tasks done as fast as you can."
"Coming to Goat Horn Town was my decision."
"Since I brought you all to this place, going back... naturally means going back together."
Finished, he didn't wait for a reply, turning his gaze to Xia Nan and the other two at the table, his expression sincere.
"Everyone, the situation has changed. I have no right to demand you do anything, but... at least for the sake of the gold coins, if something really happens in Goat Horn Town, please try to inform me. That way we can make preparations in advance."
Fully aware that at a time like this, he relied more than ever on the professionals in the team, Horak kept his posture very low, exerting no pressure just because he was the employer.
In this situation, let alone Margaret and Thorin, who were the ones who accepted the escort commission, even Xia Nan, who was just hitching a "ride," didn't mind lending a hand within his ability.
The discussion at the table didn't last too long.
A-Fu, who bore the heaviest burden and had the most affairs to handle, merely stuffed a few hasty bites into his mouth before striding off to work.
Xia Nan planned to wander around town again, just like the morning, to see if he could discover anything.
With his outstanding perception, he naturally had to leverage his advantage to the fullest—walking more, chatting more with residents; there were bound to be gains.
The two from the Blackwood Squad, upon learning of the bizarre situation in town from Xia Nan, naturally couldn't remain indifferent.
Margaret planned to go into town with Xia Nan to gather intelligence. As an adventurer squad leader with many years of experience—practically raised in the fish-and-dragon-mixed taverns, having seen everyone from kingdom nobles to roadside beggars—her way with words wasn't necessarily outstanding, but at least she wouldn't kill a conversation in a few sentences like Xia Nan.
She made up for his final shortcoming.
The dwarf Thorin was left at the inn to protect Horak.
……
……
In the morning, warm sunlight fell upon the bustling streets, a gentle breeze brushing past cheeks carrying the clamor of the crowd.
Wheat-colored skin revealed a healthy luster under the sun; a neatly braided dark golden plait swayed gently with her movements.
Margaret rested one hand on the hilt of the sword at her waist, the keen gaze unique to a swordsman sweeping across the surrounding crowds.
Yet, from the corner of her eye, she unconsciously kept track of the deep, dark silhouette ahead of her.
It had been many years since she took over the Blackwood Squad from her father. Now, having actively ceded the initiative of the operation, she felt somewhat unaccustomed, even appearing a bit too immersed in the role.
It was as if she truly were just an ordinary squad member. After leaving the inn, she hadn't even asked where they were going or who specifically they should question, simply following behind this young man who had once saved the Blackwood Squad, who possessed outstanding strength yet was extremely young.
And Xia Nan... he had his own destination.
It wasn't the bustling trade street crowded with vendors and shops; nor was it the freight station perpetually gathering porters and boasting the most well-informed networks.
Instead, he headed straight for the outskirts of the town.
About twenty more minutes passed.
As pedestrians on the road grew increasingly sparse and the buildings on either side became less dense, the vast fields of the plains behind them became faintly visible.
A small orange grove came into view for the two of them.
Low, mottled stone walls enclosed the sides, the air permeated with a crisp fragrance blending the slight bitterness of orange leaves and the sweetness of the fruit.
Orange trees of no great height were arranged in orderly rows, allowing a clear view to the low wall at the far end of the grove; every fruit tree had been meticulously pruned, its branches lush yet not chaotic.
The deep green leaves were tough in texture, their surfaces appearing as if coated in a layer of oil wax. Sunlight filtering through the gaps in the foliage refracted into faint specks of light; heavy, orange-red fruits weighed down the branches, like round lanterns rolling about, particularly striking against the backdrop of the leaves.
This orange grove was one Xia Nan had discovered on his way back from morning training. Noticing traces of recent manual pruning on the trees, he had committed it to memory.
Recalling what he had learned from the tavern owner—that Goat Horn Town's Honey Tangerines were a local specialty stocked by every shop in town through wide channels—he thought the grove's managers might be good subjects for intelligence gathering.
So he came to try his luck, hoping for some harvest.
He didn't come up empty.
Unlike the quiet stillness of the pre-dawn hours, the two had barely stepped into the grove when they heard the crisp sound of shears clashing.
Following the sound, they saw a young girl of about twenty, plainly dressed, standing on tiptoe beneath a flourishing orange tree, busy at work.
A faded, dark blue headscarf wrapped her head, revealing only a few strands of dark brown hair at her forehead and ears, damp with sweat and plastered to her skin; her cheeks were flushed with a healthy glow, her skin not fair but bearing a solid, down-to-earth luster bestowed by the land and labor.
She wore an old dress sewn from coarse linen. Right now, she was entirely focused on her task, her left arm carrying a small basket for tools, her right hand—showing distinct, thin calluses—gripping the shears, precisely and deftly snipping away dry or overcrowded twigs with a *snip-snap*, her movements fluid, as if repeated a million times.
Hearing the unmasked footsteps behind her, the girl spun around hurriedly, shears in hand.
Her gaze scanned the armor and gear on the two, and she instinctively took two steps back, her sweat-dampened face revealing panic and fear.
"Don't be afraid." Margaret stepped forward proactively, smiling, her tone gentle. "We're just passing through. No ill intent."
"Is this your family's orange grove? It's managed well; no wonder the Honey Tangerines from here are so delicious."
Hearing this, a somewhat bashful smile instantly bloomed on the girl's face.
"Good day, my lord adventurers." She gave a slightly awkward bow, then turned, picked a few oranges from the basket at her feet, wiped them a few times on her skirt, cradled them in her arms, and offered them over. "Would you like to try this year's Honey Tangerines?"
Xia Nan nodded slightly, accepting the orange handed to him. Without a word, he glanced at Margaret beside him, signaling her to continue.
Regarding the intelligence they needed, he had already briefed her at the "Wool Rusty Nail" Inn; there was no need to say more now.
Silently understanding his meaning, Margaret plucked a fallen leaf from the girl's shoulder in a very friendly manner, and in just a few words, they quickly hit it off. She naturally steered the conversation toward this town and that highly respected priest.
The orange grove girl, with little life experience, was practically defenseless against the female swordsman's approach.
The mere mention of the name "Moen" made her eyes light up instantly, revealing a reverence from the bottom of her heart.
"You mean Grandpa Moen?" The girl's clear voice carried thick respect. "He is the messenger sent by the great **'Goddess of the Valley'** to protect us."
"For as long as I can remember, Grandpa Moen has been the priest in the church. Almost everyone in town, even those uncles and aunts, grew up under his watch."
"Without him, there would be our family's orange grove... in fact, there might not even be me."
A look of reminiscence shone in the girl's clear eyes.
She turned her head slightly, her gaze drifting toward the center of the orange grove—to the thickest tree, the one bearing the densest fruit.
"That was when I was little, maybe five or six. That year the grove had a terrible harvest, and the winter was especially cold. The snow was deep enough to block the doors. I had a high fever; they said my forehead burned like a furnace. Even the town's herbalist granny shook her head after looking at me."
The girl paused, her eyes glazing over, as if drifting back to that distant, freezing snowy night.
(End of Chapter)