Chapter 35

It was already late at night when they came out of the Spring Goddess Temple. The group gradually dispersed, each returning to their own home. Knight Nolan deliberately took a longer route to drop off Gret at a crossroad not far from his house before parting ways with him.

Gret walked alone down the small street. Looking around, the houses on both sides were pitch black, with no lights visible, as if the owners had already gone to sleep. The occasional barking of dogs sounded intermittent, as if half-asleep and half-awake.

In the darkness, Gret compared his memories, trying hard to identify his own house. Unfortunately, it was too dark, and the houses all looked similar—low, cramped, and with eaves that could be touched with an outstretched hand. After looking around for a long time without seeing a house that looked like his, he couldn't help but feel anxious:

"Is the memory of my previous life reliable?"

To make matters worse, his stomach growled loudly at that moment.

Gret: "……"

He had eaten dinner, but by this time, it was clearly all gone. In the middle of the night, where could he find something to eat?

Did the original body store any dry rations before going on patrol?

Even if he did, would the black bread still be edible after two or three days?

Maybe he should stay at the barracks tonight? Is it still in time to knock on the door and go back?

Various thoughts swirled in Gret's mind as he turned a corner, and suddenly, the scene brightened. Thirty or so steps away, a window glowed warmly, not bright but conspicuous in the dark night.

Gret instinctively walked towards the house. After a few steps, the door creaked open, and a slender woman holding an oil lamp cautiously stepped out. She looked up and saw Gret standing not far away, her face lighting up as she waved vigorously:

"Little Gret! You're back! Have you had dinner?—Kalen! Edward! Little Gret is back!"

With a rustle, a group of people, led by Uncle Kalen, rushed out of the house.

Gret stood there in a daze. For some reason, his eyes welled up, and his eyes turned red.

In his previous life, his parents had divorced when he was very young. His mother sold hot dry noodles in the morning and congee in the evening, working hard to raise him. He studied medicine, practiced, and during his school years, each final exam was like the college entrance exam. After working, he worked overtime continuously, and the time he spent with his mother was never enough. Finally, when he was promoted to deputy director and could relax a bit, his mother passed away.

Since then, there was no longer a light left on for him in the myriad of homes.

Until today.

"Aunt Eileen..."

He murmured. The woman had already rushed over and grabbed him, looking him over:

"Little Gret, you're back! Are you okay? I knew that... wasn't a good person! This time, it's all thanks to you. Uncle Kalen told me, you saved him..."

While talking, she dragged him into the house and sat him down at the table. With a thud, a full bowl of meat soup was placed in front of him, with a piece of meat bone sticking out, the aroma wafting and making his mouth water.

"Aunt Eileen, I've already had dinner!"

Gret tried to refuse. But before he could finish speaking, his stomach growled again. He blushed, and Aunt Eileen laughed, ruffling his hair:

"What are you being so polite for! You've eaten so many meals at my place since you were little, and you never felt embarrassed. Besides, you saved Uncle Kalen's life. If you're polite to me, should I pay you for the treatment?"

She bustled around the room, slicing a few pieces of bread and cutting two slices of cured meat from the meat strips hanging from the ceiling. She quickly placed the bread and meat in front of Gret:

"A growing boy, eating is a blessing. Eat!"

Gret smiled awkwardly. He no longer refused, holding the bread in one hand and the meat soup in the other, and started eating. Aunt Eileen watched him with a smile, then turned and shooed her sons away:

"Go, go, go! What are you looking at? Go to sleep! Kids don't grow if they don't sleep!"

Kalen's two sons, Edward and David, were both younger than Gret, aged thirteen and ten, respectively. They looked at Gret with longing, wanting a share of the food, but couldn't resist their mother and were thrown into the bedroom by her.

Gret felt a bit embarrassed and was about to speak when he felt someone tugging at his clothes:

"Brother Gret..."

Gret turned his head.

Standing beside him was a five or six-year-old girl, wearing thin clothes and looking frail. In the light, she looked up at Gret timidly, her face pale, and held something up to his mouth:

"Brother, eat—"

Gret searched the original body's memories and remembered this was Kalen's youngest daughter, Avril, who was six and a half years old. He picked her up and sat her on the stool beside him:

"Avril, why did you come down? It's cold at night..."

As he spoke, he gently held her raised arm and tried to lower it. The little girl squirmed, unwilling:

"Brother, eat!"

"Brother won't eat, you eat—"

"Brother saved Dad! Brother eat!"

Avril insisted on holding her arm up. Gret tried to avoid her, but always gave in to her persistence. He remembered that the girl had always been weak and would turn pale with even a little exertion, so he didn't want to tire her out. He turned to Aunt Eileen, complaining:

"Aunt, why did you tell Avril about this?"

"Of course, I had to tell her." Aunt Eileen smiled and watched, even nodding to indicate that Gret shouldn't refuse. With no choice, Gret opened his mouth and let Avril put the thing in his mouth.

The tip of his tongue touched a faint sweetness, and it turned out to be a piece of malt sugar. In his previous life, such candy was insignificant, but in this world, it was a rare source of sweetness for children, often cherished for one or two months.

"Thank you..."

Gret gently patted Avril's head. The little girl smiled, but suddenly burst into a fit of coughing, her hand on her chest, her face turning red. Gret hesitated for a moment, then reached out to pat her back. As he patted, his gaze fell, and his heart skipped a beat.

It was early summer, and the weather was already warming up. The little girl had come out in slippers, her small toes exposed. Under the light, her toenails, which should have been a light pink, appeared somewhat dark.

Cyanosis?!

Gret's heart raced with alarm. He rubbed his eyes, not daring to believe it, fearing he had seen wrong. He moved the oil lamp to the edge of the table, letting the light shine directly on the little girl's feet, and looked closely—

There was no mistake; Avril's toenails were indeed a bit purple, cyanosis! Definitely cyanosis!

Aunt Eileen had also come over, holding her daughter and gently patting her back. As she patted, she answered Gret's question:

"It's nothing. Avril just doesn't like to move much, her body is weak, and she tends to cough when the seasons change."

Gret was startled. Fragments of memories surfaced, Avril had always been weak, easily tired, and prone to coughing when the seasons changed, and she was smaller than her peers...

After a while, Avril's coughing subsided, and the redness on her face gradually faded. Gret took the opportunity to observe her closely, seeing that her lips were pink and slightly pale, but not cyanotic. He then lifted her hand and saw that her fingernails were a delicate pink.

The lower body is more affected than the upper body. Differential cyanosis.

Gret's heart sank. All the signs pointed to a condition he didn't want to suspect but had to consider.

Don't panic, don't panic, it's not necessarily the case. Gret tried to reassure himself, forcing a smile, "Aunt Eileen, you know, I recently became a healer. Avril's cough is quite severe. Can you give me a tube so I can listen to her breathing?"