At noon, the sun hung high.
The air was stiflingly hot.
A breeze blew past, causing a makeshift hut cobbled together with straw and withered branches in an unnoticed corner of the village to emit a series of creaking sounds.
It seed like an overwheld old man, teetering on the brink of collapse.
The noise seed to stir sothing inside the hut, as a series of gurgling sounds echoed from within.
In the corner of the hut, amidst so bundles of straw that were partly yellow and mostly black, lay a woman on a pile of straw in the corner.
The woman wore a clearly ill-fitting skirt and lay barefoot on the straw, her feet covered in calluses and sores, her body gaunt and thin.
At the other end of the hut, there was a small wooden bowl with a chipped edge. Nearby, a tattered piece of clothing wrapped around a baby, next to another child of two or three years old. Both frail children lay sleeping on the straw, occasionally crying out with intermittent gurgles of hunger, mingling with mournful sleep talk.
The woman's na was Monia, a single mother in the village.
She was also the wife of the peasant who was beaten to death a few months ago during "the Lord's generosity" incident.
After losing the family's strong laborer, the already impoverished household beca even more difficult.
Day and night labor was not enough to tend the fields, and taking care of several children was a burden that nearly crushed Monia entirely.
Especially in recent tis,
the harvest in the fields was poor, and no amount of effort could fulfill the communal fields' portion, not to ntion the land tax and head tax owed to the Lord. As a woman, no matter how hard she worked, she couldn't continue to bear the burden alone.
At ho, they had been out of food for two days.
Monia curled up, clutching her stomach, it took her a long ti to calm her protesting stomach.
The pangs of hunger finally eased a little, Tamara ignored the mud and grass clutching at the corners of her mouth and quickly lay back down, striving to suppress her labored breathing.
This was the wisdom of life.
A few fewer movents, a few fewer breaths, and the feeling of hunger would co later.
For the poor,
they always distilled so survival strategies from a life of hardship.
She lay limply on the straw, closing her eyes, as the hunger she had just suppressed surged again, leaving her in a daze.
In the air, there seed to be a breeze,
as if taking her thoughts, and floating them in a hazy dream far away.
Wind, oh wind.....why are you so small...why aren't you bigger...why don't you blow this place down...why don't you let ...
Her thoughts suddenly spiraled uncontrollably,
Monia shivered abruptly,
How could I think such thoughts, it's so sinful of !
Disregarding saving her strength, she struggled to wrench herself upright. Inside the hut, the infant who had only been born a few months ago still slept, likely too malnourished to even cry, while the older two or three-year-old child also slept beside her, mouth mindlessly opening and closing as if eating sothing in a dream.
An indescribable feeling swept over her heart.
Monia half-knelt on the straw and began to pray silently.
rciful Lord, may you not have heard my sinful thoughts just now, I will live until you kindly allow to die, and then I will gladly enter your paradise.
Poor children, they haven't yet grown up. What would they do if I were gone?
Lord, forgive my sins.
But, rciful Lord...I am truly hungry...
rciful Lord...I am truly tired...truly troubled.
Rustle!
The "door" made of fresh branches was pulled aside, sunlight stread in, and a small figure entered, clearly surprised by the scene inside the hut:
"What are you doing..."
"Nothing, nothing!"
Hearing her familiar eldest son York's voice, Tamara quickly sat back on the straw, looking at him:
"York, what are you doing here? Weren't you just..."
Her voice abruptly halted,
Monia's eyes widened, fixating on the three fragrant black loaves of bread York clutched as tightly as he could, almost matching his height.
No,
It should be two and a half.
One had already been gnawed halfway through.
But Monia had no mind to pay attention to that right now.
Tension instantly washed over her face, her voice filled with terror:
"Heavens, York, what have you done! Where did these black loaves co from? Whose things did you steal? Was it the village steward? Heavens, did anyone see!"
"I-I didn't steal..."
Little York seed startled by his mother's intense reaction, stamring to explain:
"I-I heard the villagers saying the new Demon lord at the castle was giving out food...."
After expending much effort,
Little York finally explained the story.
Apparently, the villagers were all talking about how the new Demons at the castle were distributing food, but everyone said it was the Demon's bait, and going there would surely end badly.
However, little York was too starving to bear it any longer, their family had been out of food for two days, so he couldn't resist running over, and the rather ferocious-looking lord gave him three loaves of black bread and a bag of wheat.
Saying so, he also showed the small bag of wheat from behind.
However,
Monia did not calm down; instead, she beca even more afraid.
"Heavens! Heavens! How could you go there! Can you trust those Demons' words? Your father was beaten to death by those people for just a bite of food! How could you go there!"
Monia anxiously paced around, helplessly eyeing the black loaves clutched by little York with terror in her eyes, shaking her head anxiously, scanning around in horror:
"Can it still be returned now? Yes, yes! Return it all right now! Quickly! Get going!"
She still vividly rembered,
her husband a few months ago had been beaten to death by that noble lord.
Almost exactly the sa,
a handful of wheat was thrown on the ground, and if you picked it up, it was yours. Monia's husband couldn't resist picking it up and was beaten to death for offending the lord.
A life,
for a handful of wheat.
"It can't be returned, Mama, I ate half a piece."
Little York was almost in tears,
seeing his mother looking like the sky had fallen, little York continued to mutter:
"Mama, maybe it doesn't need to be returned, the Demon lord was very kind. After giving the black bread, he only scolded once and let go. I think since he didn't beat to death on the spot, it should be fine."
Upon hearing this, Monia felt slightly relieved.
Yes,
If the new Demon lord truly wanted amusent, he would have beaten little York to death right away. How could he have let him take so much back?
It's said that those important people always keep their word,
since little York brought the food back, it probably ans it's alright.
Monia's frightened and tense expression softened,
she let out a sigh of relief.
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