The porridge bowl was probably put on the same spot after my uncle fed it to my brother in the morning. There was still a little light yellow wheat porridge at the bottom. This was better than the yellow rice porridge made from wheat mixed with bran that my uncle and Ian usually ate.
many.
The bowl itself is definitely not the important point, it is just a wooden bowl, the important thing is the contents inside.
"It shouldn't be that there are leftovers. Let's not talk about Elan. His appetite cannot be so small, and uncle's stingy temper cannot be wasted. If a child can't eat, will he be unable to eat?"
Elan is the younger brother's name. He was named when his mother was pregnant and means good at fighting.
The stepfather who abandoned his wife and son came from Canaan Moore. He was a powerful Ascendant mercenary with half elven blood. The mother hoped that the child could inherit his power.
Ian doesn't know whether he is good at fighting or not, but his younger brother is really good at eating. He always eats as much as he can, and there is no way he will have anything left.
Somewhat confused, Ian picked up the bowl, looked closer, and then frowned: "What does it taste like?"
The wheat aroma is mixed with a strange floral aroma, which smells very warm, a bit like osmanthus, but more intense.
This fragrance brought back Ian's memories. He recalled the streets of his hometown in the afternoon. The soft light spread from the edge of the sky to the earth. The flowers and trees on both sides of the street were shrouded in a hazy halo, and dust could be seen.
Up and down in the brilliance of the setting sun, the fragrance of osmanthus is warm and peaceful, making you want to sleep peacefully...
puff.
Just when his eyes were closing and he was about to fall to the ground to sleep, Ian suddenly raised his left hand and bit his left thumb fiercely.
Although the baby teeth were soft, it was not difficult to bite the skin with determination. The pain from his fingers to his heart instantly stimulated his nerves, causing the drowsy white-haired boy to wake up, and cold sweat instantly covered his forehead.
"The refined sleeping powder of Supor flower...a powerful anesthetic used by indigenous hunters for hunting?!"
Ian clenched his fists and stared at the porridge bowl in front of him and the white-haired child sleeping peacefully on the bed beside him, never awakened by Ian's movements.
There was still blood between his lips and teeth. The smell of blood made Ian sober, but also made him shocked and unbelievable: "Osenna, the son of a bitch, actually feeds this thing to a child?! He deserves to be a human being!"
"
No wonder Ellan never cries or makes a fuss, and is so well-behaved that he doesn’t look like an ordinary two-year-old child at all...
Nonsense, what kind of child can cry after being given medicine?
Rather, if you feed this thing, can it really grow?
Only by feeding this medicine could Elan be sacrificed by the natives without crying or making a fuss.
After the anger, there is silence.
Holding the bowl of porridge in his hand, Ian frowned and stood there without saying a word, thinking.
Although the anger in my heart towards my uncle Oceana has been hard to contain.
But to be honest, he was also very curious.
In this world, there is actually such a small amount of residual floral fragrance, pollen that can make people fall asleep quickly?
Although there were medicines that could achieve this effect in previous lives, there were really no purely natural ones.
"It really is magic, right? Or is this actually a psychic plant..."
Ian still remembers that a group of old classmates from the School of Biological Sciences have always said that every life itself is an extremely unique and meticulous carbon-based factory with extremely high processing precision, which can produce many complex products that are difficult to mass-produce in the modern bio-industry.
compound.
But it would be impossible for them to come up with such a quick-acting sleeping pill in a short period of time.
A real biological factory is enough to start the next technological revolution, but that is not the breakthrough direction for humans on earth.
This sleeping powder is definitely a rare commodity. All the hunters on the mountainside want it. If his uncle hadn't colluded with the natives and worked as an intermediary, he would have never been able to get it.
"Right."
Unfolding his brows, Ian also figured it out: "Let's not talk about letting Elan be sacrificed quietly. It's just that after ingesting the black mushroom extract, you need to fall asleep quickly to take effect... This thing is for Oceana's own use."
"And he was too lazy to take care of Elan, and he didn't want his brother to waste his money-making time, so he simply let this annoying brat sleep."
"Wait...for your own use..."
"Yes!" After talking to himself at this moment, Ian's eyes suddenly brightened: "There should be spare sleeping powder in the house!"
Since these things are necessary for my uncle and cannot be taken with him, some of them must be at home!
Of course, even a scumbag like Oceana would not be able to put this kind of thing on the table openly.
He will definitely hide the sleeping powder very deep, at least somewhere where a kid like Ian can't easily find it.
Even though Ian is no longer the same Ian, it is extremely difficult to find the target without any clues.
But it's different now.
Ian walked out of the room, his eyes lighting up with fluorescence again.
Feeling dizzy again, the boy saw that in the corner of his uncle's room, under the cupboard door and the earthen jar, a faint light blue fluorescent light suddenly lit up.
Leaning against the wall, he smiled.
…
Scattered clouds shed streaks of sunlight, and the moist air surged with the wind.
On the edge of the Harrison Port immigration area, there is a half-new wooden and stone house. The streets on the edge of the old area are filled with the smell of earth after the rain.
The summer rains along the coast come quickly and violently. It only takes a few minutes for the clouds to turn over, and then the weather returns to clear skies.
The short, quick rain has washed the streets, making the grass green and the dusty windows clear. It is now almost afternoon to evening, and some dock workers have finished their work and gone home, or are preparing to clean up and start another job.
.
Under the setting sun, a tall, lame and skinny man walked silently on the street, the dim light dragging a long shadow behind him.
His cheeks were sunken, he had a long beard, his eyes were narrow and slightly squinted, sunk deep into the eye sockets, and there was some blackness around the dark blue eye sockets. The sickly shadows made it impossible to see his eyes clearly.
But even so, he can be said to have a good appearance, but he is too gloomy and not like a good person.
Although lame, the man does not walk slowly, at least with a slight limp.
It's not a disability, it's a natural deformity.
The man's right leg, below the calf, no longer looks like a human being. A blue-black sarcoma covered with a thick carapace has replaced the original sole of the foot. The bulging blood vessels and veins protrude from the carapace, beating with the heartbeat. It seems to be
I want to give birth to something extraordinary from it.
However, due to defects in the embryo, the pregnancy failed, and it became the deformed tissue it is today.
Such unexpected aberrations often occur among the White people, and both the tribesmen and outsiders are accustomed to it. Although there will be no discrimination, they are not allowed to marry, have children, and conceive offspring.
Oceana is indeed a boring and cold man. He never likes to show any emotions. He always has a dry poker face like a mask on his face. Naturally, no one wants to get close to him.
However, he never causes trouble, nor does he mock others with harsh words - this man is even more respectful, polite, honest and humble to his boss. For the dock supervisor, this is undoubtedly the best virtue.
Therefore, his daily life is considered stable, and no one thinks that he needs any changes.
But this is what he hates.
Accounting at the wharf? If it weren't for my deformity, if my family wasn't sent to the frontier far away from the imperial capital, if I had psychic talent, if...
No matter what, I shouldn't be as boring as I am now.
You deserve a better life.
Thinking of this, gloomy anger rises in my heart. This is the hatred and resentment that cannot be eliminated even if I have a sweet dream with black mushrooms and enjoy a hearty and refreshing life.
He just wants to vent now.
Thinking of this, he raised his head and looked at his house.
He squinted his eyes and saw a small white figure looking at him by the window.
A white-haired boy with a bandage on his head stood by the window, looking cautiously at the street outside the window.
The boy has white hair and blue eyes. He looks clean and cute, but blood is still slowly oozing from his head, and the unhealed wound stains the white bandage a dark red.
He obviously saw his uncle, so he exclaimed and shrank back behind the window, like a frightened little animal.
"snort."
Looking at this scene, Oceana lowered his head and smiled lowly.
He was filled with a morbid sense of accomplishment at this moment - some people were afraid of him, some were afraid of him, some were shuddering at his thoughts - this was the only time when he could feel like he was alive.
That nephew of mine... Haha, he couldn't wait to go home. He just stood in front of him without saying anything, waiting for him to admit his mistake in fear.
Whether it's the silver coins hidden in the corner of the kitchen, the toilet that hasn't been cleaned, or the firewood that wasn't chopped yesterday... there are reasons everywhere if you want to find it.
That kid will definitely admit his mistake.
And he won't say anything, and he won't forgive anything, because he should be punished if he makes a mistake.
"You can't beat him to death, but he can still sell it for money. Those people in the forest will also pay a high price for the internal organs of underage children... He can't be beaten to death."
Muttering a few words to himself vaguely, feeling happy and even walking a little faster, the gloomy man opened the door to his home with a smile and a sense of satisfaction.
He saw Ian standing at the door of the room, nervously waiting for his arrival.
"Very good..." Oceana closed the door with his backhand.
He originally wanted to say something, but suddenly a bag of something was thrown on his face, and his eyes were immediately blurred. The choking dust covered his mouth and nose with a rich and familiar aroma.
"Ahem!!"
Osenna didn't realize what was going on for a while. He never thought that his always well-behaved and weak nephew would dare to do such a thing, and the scent was obviously the Supor Flower Sleep that he usually used with black mushrooms.
pink……
How could he possibly find...
Before quickly falling into the deepest sleep, Oceana saw Ian walking slowly, carrying the rope he usually used to tie bacon, and a pitchfork that was obviously sharpened.
Great uneasiness and fear rose up in his heart, making him want to scream.
But Orsenna didn't have the chance to continue thinking.
Amidst the rich fragrance, he fell into a long sleep.