Nanming was inside the white scape of his mind once more, expecting the arrival of 'him' so that he could search for another answer to his past.
Why?
Why would Nanming search for the past when he lived in the present? Perhaps he was curious, seeing Yi Ling so hateful of him makes him wonder just what kind of person he in the past was.
"□□□"
But what he heard was the voice of someone he longed to be with, her white hair cascading down like snow, her scent is smooth and soothing and her voice is something that tickled his ear in a multitude of pleasant melody.
"…"
Why is she here? Of all time, Nanming finally remembered enough to recreate her mother, yet her face remains blocked by something, replaced with a black square that hides her feature.
"You have grown"
"…How come you know?"
And before long, all his attention was shifted towards his mother, she breathes and moves as if she is real inside this imaginary space.
"…You have grown"
"…"
He expects too much; this too is probably a repetition of a long-forgotten memory. Discarded thought burned into Soot and grew back into a forest of thought only to be burned once more.
"I'm sorry □□□, I've imposed to you a cruel fate"
"Wha-"
Before he could inquire for 'her' to elaborate, Nanming wakes up. His eyelid felt heavy, and then he was shined down by an afternoon light.
Smell of boiled water wafts into his nose, causing him to wake up.
Nanming is in a shabby house, the structure made of wood has seen a better day and he can see sunlight filters through the thatched roof.
"You're awake…"
An old man speak; he stirs the pot where the boiling water is in before he poured down rice grain from a small bowl inside.
"…Where am I?"
"…"
The old man looked at Nanming, his eye lid was half closed, revealing a very sharp look that is both aggressive and unwelcoming.
His wrinkled skin reveals a cheekbone; his scalp was visible through the thin white hair that reveals a white spot around it.
He then clicks his tongue as he said in a rough voice.
"Fancy words for someone on the verge of dying…"
The old man then scattered some kind of salt and a whole ginger inside the pot before stirring it with a wooden ladle.
After some time, he scoops whatever was inside that pot into a small wooden bowl. A thick, white and gooey substance trickled down.
"I found you in a river below after the storm, it's a miracle you're still alive"
He offered the dubious stuff inside the bowl to Nanming, he was hesitant at first but took the good gesture nonetheless. Drinking it straight from the bowl, feeling the weird smudginess hugging his tongue in a quite a pleasant taste.
If not for the utterly soft texture meeting a whole roughness of the ginger, it could taste good, but again, Nanming is not one to complain.
"You, you from the Jianghu right?"
The old man asks as he snuffed out the burning pit of charcoal with his wooden ladle, sending sparks of ember flying into the air yet he pays it no mind.
"…By definition no"
Nanming replied, he knows the meaning of Jianghu and its negative connotation to those unrelated with them.
It's like how the East regards the South, nothing but a bunch of rabbles swinging swords and killing others just for the sake of it.
"So you are then… Grab your sword and leave my place, my goodwill is limited to the likes of you"
But the old man isn't convinced, he shuns Nanming with a gesture he makes using his ladle, Nanming words didn't manage to convince him that he isn't the part of Jianghu.
And its true, or not, depending on whether the old man regards the Demonic Sect as within the Jianghu or outside of it.
But Nanming didn't push his argument, he simply bowed at his goodwill and left the place after he grabbed his sword.
As he went outside the shabby house, he was greeted by an endless terrace of rice paddy. But it's not the fresh green that he sees, only endless devastation of the flooded field with what's left of the paddy being buried under the mud.
"…"
It would take three days of labor for a group of fifteen farmers to clean this up, and more than six months of constant weeding and irrigation to ensure a bountiful harvest.
Seeing the state of the ruined paddy, Nanming can see that they are about three to five months old. Which means this season harvest for this village is late by five months at worst.
Quite concerning, but he has a goal, and that is to reach Kuxin village. So, he had no time to dawdle in this nameless village.
As he makes his way down the dirt path, the view of a shabby yet large village came into view, the inhabitants inside with all their different activities shift their attention to Nanming.
"…"
Looking at him with disdain, particularly towards his sword as they regard him as nothing but mere beast.
Children looked at him with curious yet wary eyes, this village has such distinct Hate to someone like Nanming that their nature passed down towards their descendants.
"Cough cough"
Nanming slowed his step down when he heard a weak cough.
"Oh no! Someone fetch □□!"
"-!"
Another blurred name, now he can confirm that something in his mind is actively blocking a particular name.
He was about to check on someone who went to fetch the blurred name, that is until he heard another weak coughing from the same person.
"…"
Doubt gripped on Nanming's heart, he didn't know where he should go. To the sound of the coughing or towards the name who might hold the secret to his past…
'□□□, do not harm those who are weak'
'be Kind'
And yet those words are what puts him to action.
He quickly went towards the sound of the coughing, only to be stopped by a burly man.
"Hold it you rabble!"
He said with aggression, pushing Nanming shoulders only for him to not even react to his action, instead the burly man was pushed by Nanming apparent non-action.
"I just wanted to help…"
Nanming apothecary knowledge is limited, but maybe he can treat whoever was coughing.
"Cough cough, ughh"
The weak voice wailed, its voice was so weak it didn't even have enough power to cry, as Nanming got closer, pushing those who tried to make him go away, he can see inside a thatch house, a man holding the hand of a boy who contract a serious illness.
His entire skin was filled with angry yellow puss that excretes white substance, his eyes tinged with yellow and red of blood, most of his face is covered in red rashes and Nanming noticed that the boy had a very difficult time breathing.
"Little Bo! Please, don't die yet! HEY! WHERE IS THAT QUACK DOCTOR!"
The man demands answer as his shouts boomed through the small, thatched house, his hand grips the boy small arms resolutely, he didn't care about the liquid getting into his skin.
"□□ RUN AWAY!"
One of the villagers responded, causing several shouts of disbelief and curses to permeates the gathering villagers, the man can only click his tongue all the while his face is etched with concern, his head frantically looked around everywhere, in hope of finding something or someone that can help.
"Stop that…"
Nanming pulled the man away with surprising ease, the man was shocked at first, but he then squirmed and hit Nanming hands in hope to freed himself to no avail, Nanming iron grip is unbreakable.
"Let me go!"
"…"
Nanming knows that illness all too well, it was the dominant illness in the book of 'Malleable Diseases' called the Yellow Blight, judging by the boy's appearance, he didn't have a long time in this world.
"Let me go I said!"
"If you make any body contact with him, you'll get infected… And before long, this entire region will be burned by the imperial family to stop its spread"
Nanming words draw several gasps and look of worry to the gathering villagers, some instinctively backed away from the coughing boy.
"And what do you know you fuck! You're just a bastard from the Jianghu!"
"That means I know a lot more about the World than you…"
Nanming voice is calm, leveled and stable. Ironically it makes him more imposing and intimidating.
Addressing such an aggressive man with serene peace is like watching a Raven flying calmly around a Storm.
"So what?! Should I leave him?! He's all that I had! My last family member!"
"…"
The man face is a mix of anger and desperation, his teary eyes blown wide yet his brow arched up all the while his dry mouth opens to reveal rows of yellow teeth.
"…I seek for its cure, don't ever try to touch its yellow liquid. If you did, boil the spot where it touched it"
"…"
The man wanted to refuse, he wished he could. But what can he do? To give up and let his brother be devoured by the illness and died a terrible death?
And so, he reluctantly nods, ripping his shabby robe and covering his arm with it in hopes of not touching the liquid, yet he stubbornly tends to his little brother.
Nanming immediately dashed at full speed to the nearest forest, in hopes of finding wild garlic and a moldy fruit… hopefully.
His form blurs through the nearest forest, as he braced himself against several sharp branches and pointy stone while pressing through to search for the needed items.
Soon, he found a garlic sprout, digging through it only to find that it had yet to bore an actual garlic clove, so he kept on digging.
Clawing,
Biting through the dirt only to find more unripe garlic sprouts, that is until he found a very small garlic from an unimpressive sprout.
He ripped his own black robe and tied it into a makeshift bag to hold the small yet important garlic.
He continued his mad dash to scour the forest bed in hopes of finding a…
Moldy fruit!
It was an apricot whose distinctive orange color had been taken over by a strange bluish white fluff in its skin, without much thought Nanming took it and put it in the same bag before he sprinted towards the village.
As soon as he arrived, he saw countless pots of boiling water were prepared in a row, villagers come and by to dip their arms inside the bubbling liquid, biting their own lips to stifle the pain.
Before Nanming could process the happening, the man calls out to him.
"Hey White boy! Come here quickly!"
He shouts in urgency, and Nanming didn't ask twice to come over and determine the situation. The boy seems at ease despite the aggressive illness ravaging his body.
Nanming can see his puss has been cleaned up, probably by those villagers that dipped their arms in the boiling pot, he certainly didn't expect them to actually do it.
"Hey! Can you cure him or not?"
Nanming snap back to focus and prepared the necessary ingredients which include the pitifully small clove of garlic and a moldy apricot.
The man was taken aback, fury taking over his form as he grabbed Nanming by the collar of his robe and demands answer.
"I don't appreciate joke here!"
"I'm not joking… let me prepare the medicine"
Nanming shoved the man away and he peeled off the skin from the garlic before crushing it with his hand, he then took one of the pots with boiling water and put the crushed garlic there.
Then, Nanming scrapes off the mold from the apricot, making sure he only takes the blue one and mashes it until it forms a curd which he then drenched in the hot water that has the same garlic inside.
He then picks the boiled crushed garlic from the pot and into his hand before he mixes it alongside the mold curd as it forms a sort of white and bluish paste.
Nanming applied it to where the sepsis bum and pus were extensively worse, knowing that this is just a temporary solution and he should weigh in several other variables such as secondary infection, mold poisoning and allergens.
"Where is the nearest town that has a doctor or apothecary?"
Nanming ask, one of the villagers immediately responded.
"It's Long-an to the east!"
Nanming nods, he then ripped his own robe and drenched it in the boiling water for a few minutes as he applied the paste to the boy's body.
The man edged with concern observe both him and the boy's with growing intensity, making sure that Nanming will not try anything funny.
"His infections have worsened; I can only halt the illness spread but it will do you good if you seek doctor as soon as possible"
The man nods, he then shouts towards the crowd.
"Where is Old man Yao!"
"Here!"
"Let me borrow your horse!"
The man then waits for Nanming to finished applying bandage made with his black robe to cover the sensitive part of the boy's body, he then spoke.
"Do not let him touch any ground water"
The man nod and carried the boy with urgency into a hoofing brown horse with a muscular old man sitting atop of it, the man then gently put the boy into the horse back before he leaps into it as well.
"Yahh!"
The old man whipped the rein of the horse; a neigh followed before the horse went away with thundering hooves.
"…"
Nanming watch the scene with impassivity, before he shifts his attention towards the villagers.
"Those who made contact with the boy, I advise you to eat fruit and garlic to avoid being infected as well. If you can, burn every cloth and sheath that they boy touched"
"But what sort of illness did little Bo get?"
Little Bo must've referred to that ill boy, Nanming responded with calm voice.
"It's Yellow Blight…"
"…Do as he say!"
One of the old man shouts, he immediately strips naked leaving only his underwear of nothing but plain sheath.
"Kyaaa!"
The female shouts, but the old man pay them no mind as he grabs a torch and burned his own cloth.
He might've been those who had witnessed the Blight of Hell, a plague that ravaged Hazhui following the Great Thawing.
Other villagers decided to do the same even though they didn't really understand the gravity of the situation, but seeing an elder of the village doing it, there must've been a grave reason for his action.
Nanming decided to head out into the forest again, in search of more moldy fruits.
"Where are you going?"
One of the villagers said, their faces etched with worry and restraint.
"…"
Just a minutes ago they all abhor him, now their expression is that of someone afraid of losing their loved one. It's just a simple act Nanming did, and yet the effect is profound enough to shake an old belief.
"I'm looking for more medicine in case some of you got infected"
And with that, Nanming leaves. He didn't bother to wait for a response.
.
.
.
"…"
Now that he has a basket full of moldy fruit and some garlic, he can cultivate some of the blue mold called penicillin in case a breakout happens. He's not an apothecary or licensed herbalist but he had sufficient knowledge, the rest is just a simple game of trial and error.
"…"
But what about Kuxin village? It can wait, Nanming felt compelled to help this nameless village even when they had nothing else to give him back with.
Does such feeling triumph over his coldness? Or was it a sign that he was never inhuman to begin with, just like Mantai said, his Humanity is just hidden beneath the layer of Soot that is his Inhumanity.
Pointless thinking without any answer is a fool's errand, Nanming quickly recollects his thought and goes back to the village.
Most of them had already cleaned up and went back inside their respective home, it was afternoon, so they probably are busy preparing something to eat.
Nanming glanced into the dozen thatched house each already having an inhabitant inside, he could tell that there is no space for him to stay here…
No there is one, the house atop the hill overlooking the rice terrace is plenty large for just a single old man, Nanming can stay there.
"No!"
Or not.
"Why should I take a Jianghu bastard like you?"
"I just wanted a place to stay so I can treat the plague of this village"
The old man scoff, pointing his finger towards Nanming.
"Ha! And who are you to them? Who needs saving from you? You are just playing hero for the sake of it, no sincerity behind your words whatsoever…"
His accusatory word should've hurt anyone hearts as it punctures deep into their self-esteem, but not Nanming.
"I can help you with labor, in exchange just let me stay anywhere… It doesn't need to be a proper room, just a roof above my head"
"No means no! Scram!"
The old man slammed the door in front of Nanming, but he just stood there with the basket full of moldy fruit.
But he didn't give up, he doesn't really need shelter anyway, just a place to cultivate penicillin mold.
-Knock Knock.
He politely hit his fist against the shabby door of a shabby house, the old man soon responds but didn't open the door.
"I told you to leave!"
"Can I please store this fruit inside your house at least?"
"No!"
"…Hello?"
He can hear the old man footstep going away and he stopped responding to Nanming, now what?
Can't be help, he just need to stay in whatever place was nearby, can the villagers help him with his situation?
"I'm sorry, but my house is too small for one more person… And it's almost Dim Hour"
Of course not.
And with that, Nanming climbed the hill once more and decided to stay under a tree perching itself atop the edge of the hill overlooking the river where Nanming was probably fished out of.
Looking at its raging stream carrying debris and wood, its safe to say that the storm has yet to go away.
Nanming set his basket down and covering it with his torn robe, he then purposely bites his own wrist so that his robe could regenerate alongside the wound. Before he sleeps for the day, even when the orange sun still shines.