Chapter 1157

Yuder looked at the elderly man lying in bed, asleep.

Grandfather.

Hair white as if snow had fallen on it, hands thinned and gnarled with age.

He once seemed like the biggest, sturdiest tree in the world—so how had he grown so frail?

He slowly set down the basket he’d brought, careful not to disturb the sleeper, and turned to quietly leave.

Then a low voice came from behind him.

“You’ve come.”

Yuder turned his head. The old man, eyes barely open, smiled and beckoned.

“My little pup. Come here.”

Hesitating a little, Yuder stepped closer, and the old man took his hand. His hands, though aged, were still much larger than Yuder’s. Without a word, he gently patted the back of Yuder’s hand, then exhaled deeply and spoke.

“Did things go well down in the lower village?”

“Yes. It wasn’t anything serious.”

“I figured. You’d handle it just fine. Still... I should’ve been there.”

“I’m fine. Just rest.”

A few days earlier, his grandfather had suddenly collapsed. There was no cough, no fever, no particular injury, and yet he hadn’t been able to get up again. The doctor from the neighboring village had said it was due to old age. No cure, no medicine—just eat as well as possible to regain strength. The old man didn’t get angry. He just laughed heartily.

“Your hands are a mess. What have you been doing now to make them like this?”

“I didn’t do much.”

“There wasn’t a basket when you left, and now there is.”

Yuder paused, then answered honestly.

“I picked some herbs.”

While climbing back up toward the house, he’d spotted herbs that usually didn’t bloom in this season. If they were strong enough to defy the season, he thought maybe they’d help boost his grandfather’s energy, so he dug them up with his bare hands. Then he figured he might as well look around more, and before he knew it, he’d filled an entire basket. Wrecked hands were just part of the package.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it.”

The old man clicked his tongue as if he’d guessed it all without needing to hear it. Yuder mumbled a small excuse.

“It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine.”

“Still, don’t do that next time.”

The old man gave his small hand a few more pats and sighed softly.

“I’ve told you this before. I might leave at any time, so don’t be too shocked...”

“...Or too sad.”

“That’s right.”

It was something his grandfather had said often. That although he was still here, he was old now and could pass at any moment, so when that time came, don’t be too surprised or grieve too deeply.

He’d said it over and over again: death was a natural part of life.

So often that even young Yuder could accept it.

After his grandfather collapsed, Yuder realized—this might be that time.

He knew he had to act calmly, just as he’d been taught and prepared for.

He knew he could now do everything on his own, even without his grandfather.

But still...

“Even so, please try the herbs. At least the Untarm.”

“Untarm? You actually found that in this season?”

That’s why he’d picked it. His grandfather smiled as if he already knew, even without being told.

“Yes. I should eat that. Since my sharp-eyed pup brought it for me.”

Yuder got up right away, washed and sliced the herbs, and brought them back. While his grandfather ate, Yuder didn’t take his eyes off him.

“Bitter. So bitter.”

“I brought honey water too.”

He held out a drink made with some spring-harvested honey, and the old man laughed.

“My, my. You’ve really grown up.”

A part of him wanted to say so, and another part still wanted to say not yet. So Yuder said nothing. Then the old man set down the empty cup and reached out to stroke Yuder’s hair.

“...Thank you.”

“...”

The warm silence stretched on as he gently patted Yuder’s black hair again and again. Then, suddenly, he spoke.

“Have you ever wondered why plants and flowers bloom at the right time?”

Yuder shook his head.

“It’s because they know that if they bloom too early or too late, they won’t survive. They instinctively know that blooming at the right moment gives them the best chance of making it. Even the smallest ones know that. If they bloom off-season, they’re easy prey—someone like me might come along and eat them.”

He laughed, patting his belly.

“I was greedy once too, like those herbs. But now I know that such greed is useless. So... whenever I feel greedy, I try to believe that the timing right now is just right. No matter how sad or regretful it feels... I believe that it’s the right time.”

It was difficult. Yuder didn’t fully understand. Seeing this, the old man, as always, slowed down and explained again—this time in simpler words.

“So don’t be greedy on my behalf, Yuder. Or for your own sake either.”

So that it won’t bring sorrow or pain.

Two days after that conversation, his grandfather passed away in his sleep.

He left behind a handmade bracelet at his bedside...

“...”

Yuder slowly blinked his eyes open, waking from the dream.

The ceiling of his childhood home—familiar and yet strangely distant—came into view.

The dream just now... That was right before Grandfather passed away, wasn’t it.

He hadn’t dreamed of that day once in all the years since. It had faded into a hazy memory over time.

Maybe it’s because I came home.

Most of the things that happened with his grandfather had settled deep into the past, gathering dust. But the last thing his grandfather ever said—Don’t be greedy—remained vividly etched in his mind.

Back then, I only remembered the words but couldn’t grasp the meaning...

Now, after the dream, he thought he might finally understand why those words had been said.

It felt oddly fitting to have such a dream on the day he planned to visit his grandfather. Still, it wasn’t a bad feeling.

Blinking, he turned to the side—and saw the spot next to him was empty.

He hadn’t noticed at first because he was so used to sleeping alone, but now he clearly remembered that someone had been there before he fell asleep.

Kishiar.

Yuder sat up. He looked around, but the small house was completely quiet. No sign of anyone.

Did he go to wash already?

He opened the door, and the rising sunlight poured in over the brightening sky. Compared to the capital or Peleta, the light here was searing, and he instinctively squinted.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw a figure in the distance.

Kishiar, in just a simple shirt and pants, stood quietly, watching the sun rise. That was all. And yet, Yuder couldn’t look away from that silhouette.

Then, as if sensing his presence, Kishiar turned his head.

Bathed in light, his face had turned pale white, and he smiled with crinkled eyes.

“You’re already awake?”

It felt like time had only just resumed moving again. Yuder finally breathed in and approached him.

“What were you doing?”

“Light morning training. And preparing breakfast.”

“Excuse me?”

“...And while doing that, the sunrise was just too beautiful—I found myself watching it.”

As Yuder blinked at him, Kishiar chuckled softly.

“Who would’ve thought the sun rising over distant mountains could be so breathtaking? I almost felt like I was one with nature.”

It was a silly thing to say, but somehow, it truly looked that way.

Yuder swallowed down his comment and spoke instead.

“What do you mean by breakfast preparation?”

“Well, since you treated me to such a fine dinner yesterday, I figured I’d /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ try to return the favor. It’s cold—shall we go inside and finish it?”

They went back into the house. Only then did Yuder notice the ingredients laid out around the stove. But unlike the roughly chopped ingredients from yesterday, these were trimmed and arranged with mysterious beauty.

“What is this...”

“Thanks to growing up with someone like Shuseiner, I’ve seen plenty of cooking—even if I’ve never done it myself.”

Kishiar casually added the prepared ingredients into the pan on the stove. His movements were slow, but carried the rhythm of someone recalling and imitating something they'd watched many times.

Grill. Stir. Sprinkle something he’d taken from the cupboard. Slide it smoothly onto a plate.

That was all. Yet somehow, the result was a dish of grilled vegetables and eggs that looked like something served in Peleta.

“This should be passable, right?”

Yuder stared at what he saw, unable to believe it.

“......”