Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 63
Erica stood on the porch, watching two servants load tobacco leaves, candies, and a local specialty called “white cakes” onto the lead caravan.
White cakes, made with a lot of sugar, apples, and flour, were both sweet and hard but luxurious in ingredients and durable for storage. Many travelers liked to pack some in their luggage, both to stave off hunger and to show off.
Erica, of course, had no intention of showing off, but as part of a formally documented trade caravan, it was routine to purchase local goods at each stop and resell some of their stock.
Although all this was meant to divert attention, the caravan named Fuji managed to make quite a profit from selling local specialties.
But beyond the trade of goods, the caravan named Fuji had a more critical role.
Since entering the continent of Doran, Erica had consciously left contact points in every town they had stayed, which, like threads of a spider’s web, connected inconspicuously across this vast territory, with the web’s center pinned in Syriacochi—this was decided by the old steward, Erica’s father, before the Duke set out.
Lemena had no intention of getting involved in the turbulent affairs of Doran. Their primary task was to ensure the Duke received the maximum support abroad, and his visit focused undeniably on the kingdom of Mokwen.
Lestrop’s domain was some distance from the capital, Syriacochi, and to avoid suspicion, the old steward ultimately decided to place their informants in the capital, a decision that proved very wise.
“You’re well-prepared,” a voice said from behind her. Erica turned to see Dr. Salman wearing a travel-friendly, rolled-up robe and thick boots. His medium-length hair was tied at the nape.
Erica nodded. “It’s always a bit chaotic at the start, but you get used to it after a while.”
A laborer tried to take the carrying case from Salman’s hands to put it on the cart, but he gently declined.
Seeing Erica’s gaze, he smiled a bit sheepishly.
“It’s full of glass vials,” he explained. “Most of the stuff has been sold off. Some leftovers aren’t easy to sell and can be unsafe if used carelessly. I’ve decided to carry them with me, though I’m not sure if I’ll go back to my old job once we get to the next place.”
Erica didn’t smile.
She was almost as tall as Dr. Salman, and the two of them standing side by side on the porch often drew the attention of the passing helpers, particularly the women. In fact, Erica received even more attention, especially when she looked serious, which was more charming. Shiloh’s first love was ruthlessly crushed by her.
Shiloh was sent back to the Duke’s side as a contact after the castle incident, and it was Dr. Salman who stayed to help her with the aftermath. Thus, Erica was well aware that the man before her had talents and capabilities far exceeding what he showed, though whether the experience and capabilities gained through endless loneliness were worth it was debatable.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Erica asked.
Salman looked back at her gently. “My intuition never fails me. As long as I follow the path I want to take, I will always meet my loved one. Thank you for agreeing to give me a lift for part of the way. It greatly shortened the time for my plans.”
Erica nodded and said no more.
Dr. Salman had already been planning to leave Ropappas. The accidental involvement in the castle incident just extended his stay a few days. He seemed to have stirred up a little trouble locally and was now conveniently using the caravan’s cover to leave.
She had originally planned to stay a few more days to completely eliminate the lingering effects of several tycoons and a Baron’s sudden disappearance in the city, but since her efforts were initially focused on finding and compensating the girls’ families, she was stretched too thin. Thus, the city was rife with rumors and discussions.
Just then, an urgent letter from the Duke arrived, and Erica could only dispatch more people to stay in Ropappas while she herself set off immediately for Syriacochi to prepare in advance, hence the small journey she shared with Dr. Salman.
Perhaps it was the shared experience of rescuing Alice and others that quickly closed the distance between Erica and Salman.
Although Salman appeared young, he had already traveled across much of Doran, experiencing countless dangers and stories, which young Erica loved to hear, often inviting him for a drink during caravan breaks.
“I lived in Ropappas for ten years,” Dr. Salman said, leaning back against the cushioned back of the carriage in a relaxed posture. “I usually don’t stay in one place too long—ten or maybe fifteen years is the limit. Because my appearance doesn’t age with time, staying longer than that makes it easy for people to notice something unusual about me, and they might misunderstand me as a vampire or a black mage… Although I’m not, sometimes it’s really hard to explain.”
Erica nodded. “I understand. You could have stayed longer. What made you leave so cautiously? Although my power is limited, please don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need it.”
Salman shook his head. Perhaps because the caravan had already left Ropappas, his demeanor had become much more relaxed.
“If a person lives too long, they inevitably accumulate many secrets,” he said softly. “But I know that you and Mr. Charlie come from another continent, and Doran may be more dangerous than you anticipated. If you continue to stay in Mokwen, I think it’s better for you to know about this.”
“I was an apprentice apothecarist in Arato for three years. The old apothecarist treated me like his child and recommended that I learn from a friend of his, an experienced old doctor. Surgeons can easily earn generous compensation and treatment, but I didn’t want to attract the attention of the powerful and thus lose my freedom, so I chose to settle in the marginal city of Ropappas ten years ago. Over the years, I’ve accumulated quite a network and reputation, often receiving invitations from the wealthy and nobility to treat illnesses in their estates or castles.”
As a surgeon, emergency calls were inevitable.
For this, Salman was fully prepared. He had shift porters, a long-term partnership with a carriage (although wealthy people usually took care of transportation), and a medical bag prepared for various situations, even training an apprentice who could handle basic cleaning, bandaging, stitching, and dispensing.
When the door was knocked on that night, he thought it was just another routine call.
Although it was already dark and required leaving the city, because it was the estate of a prestigious gentleman who promised a substantial fee, he didn’t think much of it and followed.
The patient was a young woman, eight months pregnant, with a prominently swollen belly. She was pale faced, having fainted several times, yet continuously being awakened.
Salman immediately knew she must have encountered an accident that endangered the child. Although she was far along, the delay was too long, and the child had a high chance of not surviving.
When he expressed to the master that he could only do his best to save the lady’s life, he unexpectedly encountered vehement opposition. They had actually invited him to induce labor and deliver the child before the mother’s death, no matter what.
This request was very unusual, at least in the kingdom of Mokwen.
Even a farmer in a barn wouldn’t choose the child under such circumstances. Salman was very surprised but wisely didn’t voice any objections—given the patient couldn’t afford delay, and leveraging the fact that he was the only doctor in the room, he still tried his best to save the lady.
But it was like a miracle—the baby that was born didn’t die immediately. The apprentice was forbidden from entering the room, and Salman could only try to save the mother while also looking after the infant. However, he soon discovered many unusual things about the newborn.
“He didn’t cry,” Salman said softly. “It’s common for newborns not to cry right away. We usually stimulate them a bit. I pricked the child’s fingertip with a fine needle, and he cried, but… I noticed his blood was blue.”
He had never seen human blood of that color before.
Salman was very surprised but didn’t show it. Instead, he discreetly cleaned the blood off the needle, and it was fortunate he did so—upon hearing the child’s cry, several people burst into the bedroom, ignoring all obstacles, and took the child away.
Their urgency was unusual. Even before they had fully left the bedroom, Salman heard someone whispering in a hushed voice, “…check the color… It’s here.”
Ten minutes after they left, the room, which had been slightly stuffy due to the burning fireplace, suddenly dropped in temperature strangely. A weird, suffocating atmosphere enveloped the room, and the woman, who was already stabilized, began to shiver uncontrollably. By then, no one was left in the room except for Salman.
The pale-faced young woman, half-conscious and half-delirious, clutched his hand tightly, repeating over and over, “Kill him… Kill him… He must be killed…”
Salman thought she was having a hysterical fit and tried to give her a sedative, but she reacted violently to the medication. As soon as she saw the medicine bottle, she struggled wildly, screaming that she didn’t want it, that it would give birth to a monster.
If at this point Salman didn’t realize he was involved in something serious, then he would have considered all his years of experience wasted.
He calmly sedated her, sparing no expense with valuable medicines to preserve her life—unexpectedly, an hour later, the child was brought back.
But this time, the child wasn’t breathing.
They said the child had died prematurely and asked Salman to give him one last bath before hastily burying him in the garden of the house.
“While washing, I meddled a bit and pricked the child’s fingertip again. His blood had not yet clotted, but this time the blood from the fingertip was red.”
If not for the woman’s delirious ravings while semi-conscious, he might have truly believed his first observation of blue blood was a hallucination.
“I did my best to preserve her life, which was the right decision, and I guess that’s why I managed to save both my apprentice’s life and my own.” Dr. Salman looked down at his wine glass, his voice very low. “I don’t know what she had been through, but the child’s birth must have involved some unnatural intervention, an act considered extremely evil in any doctrine. They wouldn’t want their secret exposed. But I managed to save her life… With the child already deceased, having the mother still alive allowed them to analyze and review the failure. If her condition worsened, they might still need me… I managed to escape smoothly by using the Baron as an excuse.”
They all knew what happened next.
Dr. Salman dismissed everyone associated with him, canceled his house lease, sold his furniture, and if Erica and Charlie had arrived just two hours later, he would have already left the city.
“I myself am hardly a normal human anymore, so I’m quite sensitive to magic and curses. I’m certain that the sudden drop in temperature in the room after the child was taken was due to something peculiar happening. That’s why, when I heard about the many young women confined in the castle, I became alert and asked to join you… Since ancient times, life magic has been taboo. If you encounter traces of such events on your journey, please don’t investigate or touch them, and leave as soon as possible.” Salman looked at the serious-faced Erica and spoke earnestly.
The early spring fields were turning green, making the roads much more passable than in the cold winter. The caravan didn’t need to seek shelter from snow or wind, and their progress was swift.
Erica sat in her carriage, holding a glass pen, lost in thought.
As she had traveled, the bird communication network typically used by Brandenburg was beginning to take shape in Doran, though it still lacked a bit of responsiveness.
Fortunately, intricately designed magical items could compensate for this deficiency, though costly and limited in use, typically reserved for emergencies. But now…
Erica dipped her pen in ink and began to write the first word on the letter.
Dear Green,
I’m writing this response to you from the carriage on my way to Syriacochi.
The personnel stationed in the capital are reliable. They reported back to me immediately.
While this matter requires further verification by me, I think it necessary to discuss the clues we have so far, so you can make a preliminary judgment.
The cook at the Earl’s residence buys food every two days. She often talks to the apothecarist’s wife due to her back pain. On February 12th, she complained about having to discard a large amount of fresh celery because it nauseated the Lady of the House, even though preparing celery along with chrysanthemums and oats was usual. The change in her Mistress’ taste caught her off guard.
The Earl’s physician completed a prescription at Akarla Apothecary: oatmeal, distilled water, rose petals, and a mixture of three types of animal bones, a formula typically used in eastern Doran to treat headaches in pregnant women.
…
As the carriage rolled over a sharp little stone buried in the dirt, it jolted the compartment. The tip of Erica’s pen trembled, causing a drop of ink to fall onto the letterhead, leaving a rust-colored ink stain.
Erica set down her pen, staring off into space for a while, then crumpled the letter into a tight ball in her hand.
Seconds later, the crumpled paper ball burst into a small flame from within and quietly burned out.
Apart from a past relationship with the Queen that had become taboo, Count Lestrop’s personal life and that of his brother had little in common, aside from one or two socialites rumored to have liaisons across the country. In fact, there was little to dig into about his romantic escapades. His focus seemed more on border conflicts and several disputed mineral veins, more similar in character to the old King in this respect.
For this reason, it was unlikely that another woman in the Earl’s estate, experiencing a significant change in taste and pregnancy headaches at this time, existed.
Erica didn’t know why the Duke was suddenly concerned about this—logically, it would be good news for both Miss Priscilla and her husband if they had a child after several years of marriage.
But perhaps Dr. Salman’s recounted experiences had made her overly nervous. She revised the letter several times and had yet to finish it.
Her intuition told her something wasn’t quite right.
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