Chapter 6: Tasty Red Fruits

“I only ask that your radiance shine upon me, protecting me as I pursue the path of the strong.”

In Xia Mingyu’s memory, medieval lords and their vassals or knights were mutually supportive.

Knights and vassals must loyally offer everything—even their lives—to their lord, yet in return, the lord has the duty to grant them protection and proper respect.

If he truly had a kingdom of fourteen hundred million people backing him, then faced with Boge, who had saved his life from a wolf’s jaws, Xia Mingyu would have unhesitatingly accepted the man’s request.

But the problem was, he was now nothing more than a marginal figure, possessing only a title that sounded terrifyingly grand, yet in reality, owned nothing at all!

He could not fulfill Boge’s plea, so naturally, he should not accept the man’s loyalty.

Otherwise, when the truth was revealed, he might end up like that wild wolf—shot through the eye by an enraged Boge and killed.

Time slipped away second by second, and Boge’s earnest expression gradually froze.

He sensed something was wrong, and turned his pleading gaze toward Anliya beside Xia Mingyu, hoping this elder sister who had raised him since childhood would lend him a hand at this critical moment.

In his view, his beautiful, angelic sister—who had spent three days in constant company with this noble prince—must already have shared intimate relations with him.

Therefore, a single word of persuasion should still fall within the prince’s tolerance.

Sensing Boge’s “pitiful” gaze, Anliya finally felt pity; her lips parted, about to speak—when Luo Bote gripped her shoulder tightly.

Anliya looked at her adoptive father in confusion; she knew how much he valued Boge, even raising him as his own son.

In response, Luo Bote simply shook his head firmly.

Though it pained him to disappoint Boge, he must use this single precious opportunity for “that matter.”

Seeing this, the girl could only return a look of helplessness.

Xia Mingyu, lost in thought with his head bowed, noticed none of this silent exchange among the three.

After a long while, he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, but I need a few more days to consider this matter,” Xia Mingyu sighed, a flicker of regret passing through his dark eyes.

After much deliberation, he still decided to grant himself extra time—after all, what if he truly gained a divine advantage?

At these words, Boge’s earnest expression was instantly drowned in deep disappointment.

To him, this was unmistakably a nobleman’s polite refusal.

Even though I saved your life, will your noble self still refuse to take me—a lowborn wretch—as your vassal?

Boge forced back his inner resentment and despair, rose, bowed slightly, then turned away, head hung, shoulders slumped.

Anyone could see his desolation in his silhouette.

“Your Majesty, I still have village matters to attend to; I shall take my leave.”

After Boge departed, Luo Bote also chose to leave, leaving only Xia Mingyu and Anliya inside the wooden hut.

“Miss Anliya, could you show me around the village?” Xia Mingyu said after a moment’s thought.

To learn the language, he had cooped himself up in the hut for three full days; it was time to step outside and breathe.

He might as well seek out more information about this world—no amount of hearing could match the depth of seeing with one’s own eyes.

“It is my honor, Your Majesty.”

The golden-haired girl rose onto her toes, lifting the hem of her coarse linen dress, and bowed slightly.

Though her clothing was plain, even patched, her graceful movements and delicate, fair face made her resemble a fairy-tale Cinderella.

Too bad Cinderella ultimately married the prince—while he was merely one of fourteen hundred million ordinary people.

A flicker of regret passed through Xia Mingyu’s eyes.

It was afternoon now; sunlight filtered through scattered clouds, dappling the winding dirt paths of the village like a gentle golden veil laid upon the earth.

After walking a while along the dirt path, Xia Mingyu and Anliya came upon a circle of emerald-green fruit trees.

Bright red, tempting fruits sparkled like brilliant rubies among the dark green leaves, as beautiful as a delicate oil painting.

The air was thick with a rich, fresh fruit fragrance, making one’s mouth water.

At least Xia Mingyu’s appetite had been stirred.

Beside him, Anliya noticed this and smiled.

“Your Majesty, would you like to try one?”

Xia Mingyu nodded vigorously.

At once, the girl skipped lightly toward the largest tree in the orchard—a towering giant, thick as five men could embrace, dozens of meters high, its fruit the reddest of all.

“Uncle Xinpu!”

Anliya waved and shouted toward the middle-aged villager standing on a ladder high in the tree, picking fruit.

She shouted so loudly her voice, usually as clear as a spring stream, cracked.

The villager, hearing her, looked down in confusion.

When he saw Anliya waving, he smiled—but when he saw the young man beside her, crowned with a long string of white text, his expression turned to terror.

“P-P-P-Your Majesty!”

Xinpu stumbled, nearly falling from the ladder.

Fortunately, he grabbed hold in time; otherwise, from such a height, he would surely have been killed.

But even if he died from the fall, it would be trivial compared to the sin of defiling the prince’s eyes and drawing the prince’s wrath upon Anliya, the village’s most beautiful flower—he would never forgive himself.

Thinking this, Xinpu climbed down the ladder like a monkey.

“G-Greetings, noble Your Majesty.”

Xinpu prostrated himself on the ground, his voice trembling as if squeezed through clenched teeth.

“Wu,” Xia Mingyu said softly.

This word meant “rise”; “Kala” meant “withdraw.”

Upon receiving permission, the villager rose to his feet, yet still kept his body bowed.

“Uncle Xinpu, His Majesty wishes to taste the fruit from our orchard. Please offer him the sweetest fruit you’ve picked today.”

Anliya spoke gently; her voice, like silver bells, was sweeter than the fruit-laden air.

“Yes! It is the honor of Fruitbasket Village!”

Suddenly, Xinpu’s fear vanished, replaced by excitement; his face flushed as he set down his basket full of fruit and began rummaging frantically through the pile.

Moments later, he held up with both hands a fruit so red it verged on purple, its skin smooth as silk, offering it to Xia Mingyu.

(End of Chapter)