Chapter 12: The Prince

Because the journey was long and they carried too much, by the time Xia Mingyu and Boge returned to the village, it was already dusk.

The sky at this moment resembled a gradient oil painting, with orange-yellow and violet hues interwoven, dyeing the clouds a dark gold and draping the ground in a faint golden veil—utterly beautiful.

“The noble and kind Prince Mingyu Xia, pitying our village’s hardship, has graciously bestowed upon us fifteen silver Sol and fifty copper Sol!”

As soon as they returned to the village, Boge rushed to the center of the village, stood beneath the ancient oak tree, and clutched the money bag as he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Though he found it embarrassing, Xia Mingyu did not stop him.

After all, these coins needed a source—they couldn’t possibly say they were stolen together by him and Boge.

Hearing Boge’s shout, the villagers spread the news rapidly, one telling ten, ten telling a hundred, and soon emerged from their humble huts of straw and logs, filling the open space before the ancient oak tree.

Robert, the village chief, shuffled forward trembling from the crowd, knelt deeply before Xia Mingyu, and with voice choked, opened his calloused hands:

“Noble Prince, your generosity rivals the sun in heaven—we all in this village shall forever remember your grace. May the gods bless you, and may you return swiftly to your kingdom!”

Heaven knew how much anguish he had endured over the agricultural taxes—if he had to witness his villagers sold into slavery, he would rather smash his head against this ancient oak tree!

“Prince, it’s your turn.”

Seeing this, Boge hurriedly handed the money bag to Xia Mingyu—he had no right to distribute the coins himself.

Xia Mingyu took the bag and poured all the coins at once into Robert’s outstretched palms.

The cascade of gleaming silver coins, too many for his hands to hold, stirred intense emotion among the surrounding villagers.

“Prince, you are the kindest person I have ever met. From now on, whenever you wish to eat red berries, I will gladly offer you as many as you desire.”

Simpson knelt prostrate, tears streaming uncontrollably from his eyes.

This was the happiest day of his life—even happier than yesterday, when the Prince praised his red berries as delicious.

“Prince, you are our savior!”

“Prince, I used to think—if my child were to be reduced to slavery, I’d kill him first to spare him a lifetime of suffering. Thank you for letting my child and I live on!”

“Mom, you wanted to kill me?!”

Amidst the choked gratitude from the crowd, a little boy broke free from his parents’ calls, pushed through the throng, and walked up to Xia Mingyu, asking innocently:

“Prince, can you give me one copper Sol to buy a black bread?”

At this, the crowd burst into laughter.

Xia Mingyu smiled gently and nodded, pulling two copper Sol from his pocket and gently placing them in the boy’s palm.

“Go buy the black bread, but don’t eat too much.” Xia Mingyu patted the boy’s head and whispered.

The boy ran off joyfully clutching the coins, only to be pulled aside by his parents and given a stern scolding; the surrounding villagers silently shielded the family, lest the boy’s wails disturb the Prince’s mood.

Watching these villagers, moved to tears and prostration by nothing more than a few coins, Xia Mingyu felt a pang of emotion—and suddenly, a troubling premonition.

According to Anliya, the lord of Black Wolf Domain was a nobleman of virtue, and the tax burden here was among the lowest in the entire Sosia Kingdom.

Yet even so, the villagers of Guolan Village had no capacity whatsoever to withstand any misfortune—not even enough to feed their children the cheapest black bread, and each year faced the risk of being sold into slavery.

Then what sort of life must the people in other domains of the kingdom be enduring?

Thinking of this, Xia Mingyu’s smile slowly faded; his expression grew grave, and he sank into deep thought.

At the same time, the long string of white text above his head—“Heir to a Kingdom of One Billion Four Hundred Million Subjects”—flickered faintly with a You green light.

Several days later, Wolf Howl Forest.

Sunlight filtered through layers of leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

A plump gray-brown wild rabbit sat quietly on a patch of emerald grass, its pink ears twitching slightly as it listened alertly to its surroundings.

Its three-part lips chewed rapidly on grass, whiskers trembling slightly—focused, agile.

Swish!

Suddenly, an arrow flew from afar, its flight path crooked, its fletching wobbling in midair, tracing an irregular arc.

Finally, the arrow thudded into the soil five meters from the rabbit, kicking up clumps of grass and dust.

The startled rabbit’s ears snapped straight up; the next instant, it leapt high as a spring, shooting into the undergrowth like an arrow released from a bow—and vanished into the dense forest, leaving only the crooked arrow standing alone in the earth.

From nearby bushes, two figures emerged: Xia Mingyu and Boge.

“Prince, forgive me for saying so, but you have no particular talent for hunting.”

Boge walked over and easily pulled the arrow from the ground, smiling wryly at Xia Mingyu, who was still fiddling with the bow.

He had tried to be as gentle as possible—in truth, he suspected even a village boy who liked throwing stones would be a better hunter than the Prince.

“Fine.”

Xia Mingyu sighed and gave up on the bow.

After learning that occupational blessings in this world granted extraordinary abilities—including that merchant who likely survived Boge’s full-power arrow thanks to such a blessing—he became deeply interested in occupational blessings.

After all, no one from Blue Star would refuse such supernatural power.

To obtain an occupational blessing, the first step was to take an oath.

Everyone in the village was a farmer—except Boge, who was a hunter.

And according to Boge, the hunter’s blessing granted the ability of gaze: by calming his mind and focusing, he could see farther and wider, making it vastly more practical than the farmer’s tillage ability, whether in combat or escape.

Thus, Xia Mingyu naturally wished to become a hunter—but despite Boge’s best efforts, he remained as unresponsive as the unawakened stone atop Flower-Fruit Mountain, utterly incapable.

“Prince, even if you had talent for hunting, I still advise against taking the oath. For one of your nobility, the bloody pursuit of game would only sully your honor. There must be a more fitting occupation for you.”

Boge paused, then spoke sincerely.

“Besides, my father told me: identity blessings arise from birth, but occupational blessings are the summation of one’s past life.”

“At your age, your occupation should already be fixed—perhaps you simply need a catalyst.”

Happy New Year’s Eve~(*^▽^*)

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(End of Chapter)