The small village along the way was quiet, unlike the bustling city. The carriage was parked at the village entrance, and the group walked around, looking for a house that could accommodate so many of them.
Unfortunately, the scattered houses were all very dilapidated, teetering on the brink of collapse under the cover of night, without even a fire to keep them afloat, making them appear especially desolate and bleak in the cold winter.
Fortunately, after walking along the path for a short while, we saw two larger courtyards next to each other. The courtyards were surrounded by fences, and inside were two or three wooden houses, from which warm light emanated.
In one of the courtyards, a little girl was feeding chickens. When she saw them coming, she shouted, "Someone's coming! Someone's coming!"
The chickens were so frightened that they scattered and ran away, and the little girl also ran towards the house.
Looking at the two courtyards, they seemed to belong to two different families, but the two or three wooden houses of one family were clearly not enough to accommodate so many of them. The leader, who was walking in front, said, "Let's stay separately."
As he spoke, he walked toward another rather quiet courtyard. Mr. Allen, Mrs. Dean, and Mr. Dwyer followed him, while Phil Gray and the other three stood still, watching the little girl lead several adults out.
A burly farmer dressed in hemp clothing opened the fence. He had dark skin, messy hair, and looked to be around forty years old. "Are you travelers passing through?" he asked.
“Yes, this is the middle of nowhere, there are no inns. We would like to stay for the night. Of course, we will pay you.” Phil Gray took out five silver coins from his pocket.
This is equivalent to several months' income for a farmer.
He smiled and said, “Of course, God of Life, we are happy to help our distinguished guests.” Taking the silver coins, he then said to the two women leaning against the door, “Go and prepare some dinner for our guests.”
Phil Gray then noticed them: an older woman and a girl of about seventeen or eighteen. The woman was holding the little girl she had just fed the chickens in her arms, and the girl was looking timidly at the group of strangers.
The group entered the house. Although the wooden house was not large, it was very warm. The stove was burning brightly, and there was an iron pot on it, cooking something.
In the center of the cabin is a dilapidated wooden table, which has an irregular shape due to a missing corner.
The farmer fiddled around outside for a while and then handed them some wooden stakes to use as makeshift seats.
"This is all the food we have here. Have some hot soup to warm yourselves up." The farmer took the large basin from his wife and gave each of them a bowl. His wife then brought out a plate of slightly yellowed flatbread, while the little girl next to them grabbed a flatbread and ate it.
"Don't do that. There are guests here. It's impolite of you." Her older sister, a girl of seventeen or eighteen, glared at the little girl.
The little girl just smiled slyly.
Patrick patted the little girl's head, looking at the unpalatable food in front of him with some worry. He walked towards the door, then turned back to the group and said, "We brought some food, it's in the carriage, I'll go get it."
Phil Gray knew this was his excuse; all the food he brought was in his own space.
"Can't this be eaten too?"
Eli casually picked up a pancake and started eating it. Then he said to the little girl who was also eating a pancake, "I'll show you a magic trick."
He pulled a lily from his pocket, and the little girl stared wide-eyed at his hand. "Wow!"
Eli handed the lily to the little girl, which brought a happy smile to her face. He then noticed the older sister standing beside the little girl, hesitated for a moment, and then took out another lily. "Sister has one too."
The girl glanced at him shyly, "Thank you!" Then, she pulled her younger sister away.
Patrick returned with his food and cutlery, and even Phil Gray had to admire his thoughtfulness.
A sumptuous meal was laid out on the table, and Patrick took out a bottle of wine; the elegant bottle looked like a high-quality product.
The farmer and his wife looked at the food on the table with envy until they heard Phil Gray's voice, "You should have some too, he brought too much food."
"Thank you, kind sir!" The farmer looked at him gratefully, then called out to the sisters who had just walked away, "Ella, bring your sister over, the guests are treating us to a big meal."
The girl and her sister also sat down in the corner and accepted some of the food they were given.
Patrick was quite pleased with his preparations. "Their people don't get to enjoy this," he said, pointing to the yard next door.
But before he could finish speaking, he heard a knock on the door. The farmer opened the door and saw a strange old man with long hair.
“He is also one of our companions. May we invite him in?” Phil Gray said. Mr. Dwyer was at the door.
"certainly."
Dwyer came in, saw the good food and wine they had, chuckled, handed over a yellow cardboard sign, and said to Eli, "You asked me about the location of the Golden Butterfly Flower on the carriage today, didn't you? I thought about it when I got back and made a list of a few books. They might have the answer you're looking for."
Eli stood up and took the cardboard. On it was a flower, which, though somewhat abstract, still resembled a butterfly in its petals and looked very beautiful. Below the flower were its description and some book titles.
“Butterfly flowers, may I take a look? I saw a lot of butterfly flowers when I was managing the farm before,” said the girl named Ella.
Although she knew that what she saw was just an ordinary butterfly flower, Eli still handed over the cardboard.
The girl looked at it and touched the cardboard. "I've never seen such stiff paper before, but these flowers are just like the ones I've seen before—pink and purple, very pretty. Are you looking for these flowers? I can take you there." She glanced at Eli, seemingly a little embarrassed.
"Thank you, let's talk about it another time. We have other things to do this time," Eli said apologetically.
“You’re drinking? Let me see what kind of wine it is. Oh, this is wine produced by the Food God Cult from the Eastern Continent. You really know how to enjoy life, carrying such good wine with you.” Dwyer picked up the wine bottle on the table, turned his back, looked at the bottle by the light from the stove, opened the cap and sniffed it, as if he was about to pour it into his mouth.
“We haven’t had a drink yet!” Patrick said hastily. “I’ll just pour you a glass.”
He snatched the wine from Dwyer's hand, but feeling embarrassed to keep it all to himself, he poured a glass for everyone present, either using a bowl or his own glass, including the five- or six-year-old girl.
“This is wine, even little girls can drink it,” Patrick said with a grin. But his joy turned to sorrow when Dwyer snatched the remaining third of the wine, along with the bottle, leaving only Patrick’s laughing back.
"Oh, that's too much!"
Eli rolled his eyes at him and put the cardboard into his spatial stone, which the farmer's family saw as just another of his magic tricks.
"I want to rest now, you guys eat."
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