Ch. 409: Mr. Edwards’ Unraveled Life Chapter 409

Chapter 409

Norah fell silent, lost in thought.

The Yi tribe in the north had been burned, looted, and completely wiped out by the Pharaoh's subordinates, while this village had been spared and even received aid. The contrast was glaring.

Something about this didn’t sit right with Norah.

She gave the boy a subtle look, and he immediately followed behind her.

Norah walked to the center of the courtyard, stopping near the elderly woman and the little girl. She glanced at the medicinal herbs scattered on the ground—long-rooted plants she didn’t recognize.

"How do you harvest these?" she asked.

The boy, quick-witted, translated her words.

The old grandmother looked up at them, her gaze settling on Norah and the boy—a young woman in her twenties and a boy who seemed familiar in some way.

"Break off the roots, shake off the dirt, and gather twenty plants to make a bundle," the grandmother explained.

The boy translated.

Then the grandmother asked, "How did you end up here?"

They were deep in Yi territory. The Yi people, already fractured by internal conflict, were no longer safe. The presence of allied troops had further divided them into two factions. The northern Yi, with whom the boy shared an accent, had long been severed from those here.

The boy hesitated, but before he could speak, Norah took his hand. "We’re on the run," she said.

The people here believed the Pharaoh was their protector. If they told the truth, the grandmother wouldn’t believe them.

Norah had yet to understand the full situation, so for now, it was best to keep quiet about the massacres and the Pharaoh’s role in hunting them down.

"You’re from the Yi tribe. You have a kind heart. We won’t make things too difficult for you," the grandmother said as she continued sorting the herbs. "Stay here for now. Don’t think about leaving."

The boy frowned. "Why?"

The grandmother sighed. "Different allied forces are stationed nearby. We survive only under the Pharaoh’s protection. If you step outside this village, the allied forces will hunt you down. Our land isn’t under government control."

She explained the current situation, and the boy relayed it to Norah.

A chill ran down Norah’s spine.

She couldn’t wrap her head around the chaos in this part of the world. The suffering these people endured was beyond imagination.

Just then, a group of children ran past, their voices ringing out excitedly. "Teacher Baimo is back!"

They spoke in broken Chinese.

"Grandma, Teacher Baimo is back! I want to see him too!" The little girl beside Norah, who had been quietly sorting herbs, suddenly stood up, her face lighting up with joy.

Norah didn’t understand what was happening, but the boy translated.

She recalled what the man had said earlier—this Teacher Baimo had ties to the Pharaoh. That could be important.

"Let’s go check it out," she said, curiosity piqued.

The boy nodded, bid the grandmother farewell, and followed the noise with Norah.

A few steps later, they saw him—a tall man, at least 1.8 meters, dressed in a crisp white shirt and gold-rimmed glasses. His rolled-up sleeves revealed his forearms, and his fair skin contrasted with his flaxen curls, giving him an air of elegance and refinement.

His smile was warm, almost serene.

With a large paper bag in hand, he distributed gifts to the eager children, like a benevolent Santa Claus.

Rubber bands and hairpins for the girls, knee pads and soccer balls for the boys, textbooks for all. For the older girls, he handed out lipstick and skincare products.

One of the girls, unfamiliar with these items, examined them curiously. "Teacher Baimo, what is this?"

"Lipstick," he explained patiently. "It enhances your complexion. In other countries, people use it as part of their makeup routine to improve their appearance. This is foundation. If you don’t know how to use it, I can show you a video later. You can learn from that."

He spoke in Chinese, peppered with bits of Yi dialect, making sure the girl understood.

"Thank you, Teacher Baimo!" she said, holding the lipstick and skincare products as if they were treasures.

Beauty was a universal desire.

The children, thrilled with their gifts, clamored for his attention.

"Teacher Baimo, come to my house for dinner! My mom sold herbs and bought eggs and meat!"

"Teacher, come to my house! We have potatoes!"

"Teacher, we have sweet potatoes!"

"Teacher, I have cookies!"

They raised their hands eagerly, competing for his presence.

This village was far better off than the boy’s home. They weren’t feasting, but at least they had enough to eat. Unlike his village...

Norah glanced at the boy and saw his clenched fists. The veins on the back of his hands stood out.

The injustice gnawed at him. Why did his village suffer while these people lived under allied protection, had full stomachs, and even access to education?

Who was this Teacher Baimo, and what was his connection to the Pharaoh?

Norah tightened her grip on the boy’s hand and pulled him aside. "Don’t act rashly until we understand the situation. Teach me some basic Yi dialect."

Though the children spoke a mix of Chinese and Yi, their Chinese was often broken and confusing. They needed to be prepared.

Her words doused some of the boy’s anger.

They were on unfamiliar ground. Picking a fight now would only get them killed.

But Teacher Baimo had already noticed them.

Unlike the others, Norah stood out. The boy blended in somewhat, but she was clearly an outsider.

After settling the children, Teacher Baimo strode toward them. His gaze was calm, but there was something unreadable in his expression.

"Where did you come from?" he asked.

"We fled from the north..." Norah replied.

Baimo’s eyes darkened slightly. "That’s near the war zone. You’re lucky to have made it out."

The northern Yi were trapped in conflict, their villages impoverished and abandoned. Meanwhile, those here had found protection. The north wouldn’t allow outside interference anymore.

For now, they could only safeguard the people here.

But the allied forces constantly stirred up trouble, infiltrating whenever they could. And now, two more strangers had appeared—a northern Yi boy and a Chinese woman. Their story was suspicious.

"The people here are luckier than we are," Norah said, gripping the boy’s arm.

The boy’s entire village had been slaughtered by the Pharaoh’s forces.

And the man standing before them had ties to the Pharaoh.