[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke-Chapter 211: A Quiet Freedom

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Chapter 211: A Quiet Freedom

"You can work here once you’re healthy enough," Xion said, turning to glance up at the taller man as he offered him a choice. "That way, you can pay off your bill. If not, you can always ask the villagers for help. They’re good people... most of them, anyway."

With that, the two returned to the hospital.

One went quietly to his ward, while the other was swept back into the rush of duties as the hours ticked by.

Ravik didn’t waste much time before pitching in as a cleaner. There was always something to do at the healing house.

Herbs needed to be chopped and ground, others boiled at precise temperatures. Kitchen staff bustled in and out, while guards remained posted at the entrance.

Thanks to all that work, the healing house had created job opportunities for many villagers. That was one of the reasons it was so well-regarded by most locals.

But not everyone shared that sentiment.

There were those who resented Xion, and he’d long since learned to ignore them. Just like now, while shopping for supplies at the market, he could hear the familiar sneers echoing from a small food stall nearby.

"Anyone can play saint when they’ve got a mountain of wealth," one voice muttered. "But we poor folks gotta work until the sun’s gone just to fill our bellies."

"Isn’t he rich?" another scoffed. "Why can’t he just help Lukas? Guess that pretty face hides a heart blacker than a charcoal."

Lukas was a known alcoholic. He’d begged for money more than once, and Xion had refused him without much thought.

But a few days ago, tragedy struck his family. Lukas’s son had been fishing by the river when he slipped and was struck on the head. By the time he was brought to the infirmary, he was already dead.

Now, fueled by grief and anger, Lukas and his drinking buddies were spreading rumors that Xion had deliberately made things harder for the poor boy.

That if Xion was so rich and saintly, why hadn’t he helped? Why weren’t they getting charity or jobs? Why were only they not allowed near the healing house?

It was simply an injustice!

"He’s a damn hypocrite," Lukas spat with rage. One hand gripped a half-empty bottle while the other struck the old table, making it rattle.

The shopkeeper, fed up with their nonsense, slammed a hand on the counter with even more force. "If you’ve got so much energy to complain, why not use those hands for work? Maybe then your kids wouldn’t have to suffer in your place. Scram!"

The old man’s glare was enough to send the group stumbling off, muttering under their breath.

Xion glanced at the retreating backs of the group and could not help but sigh. When he had been selecting workers, he directly rejected them. They simply lacked discipline.

Two of them had even picked a fight with the staff just because they didn’t want to stand in line.

How could he entrust them with delicate, critical tasks?

But no matter what he did, they never seemed to understand.

"My lord, do you wish to deal with them?" one of the guards asked with clear irritation. It wasn’t just Xion, his guards had grown tired of the troublemakers too.

"Nah, let them be," Xion said, waving it off as he continued through the market.

It was easier now to ignore the sharp glances thrown his way. Over the years, he had grown used to the attention, unwanted or otherwise, that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

Thanks to Serena and Noxian’s constant support, he no longer bothered to hide his face. Really, what was the worst that could happen? He was already living like an ordinary man on the borderlands.

No one could threaten him with his noble lineage. No one could sway him with riches.

So yes, his life was peaceful — almost absurdly so. He walked casually through the bustling street, surrounded by the hum of market chatter and various stalls.

The vendors were always respectful to him as they would eagerly present their best goods the moment they saw him.

It was a quiet kind of freedom.

Usually, Noxian would’ve been by his side, pointing out odd plants or pestering the shopkeepers with strange questions. But today, the boy was busy teaching biology at the village school.

It was really ironic that when Xion thought Noxian was ready to be a healer, the purple-head brat stated that he had no desire to save people.

"I don’t want to worry about whether some stranger lives or dies, brother. I don’t have the patience to deal with crying families either. They always cause trouble! I hate it!"

Xion had asked what he wanted to do. And as an answer, Noxian proudly declared, "I want to be your knight!"

Since then, he’d been training with their soldiers—most of whom were Aunt Serena’s people.

Even now, Xion had to admit he was impressed by just how many capable individuals Serena had brought along.

And now all those people were also willing to follow him. It was this kind of thing that made his days bright.

So, with a smile, he bought a few more things from the local shops. The folks were mostly very nice, especially to him. Whenever he would ask for something, they would give him an extra portion.

What had started as a trip to buy ink and brushes had turned into a small shopping spree. Now the guards had to carry bundles of vegetables along with everything else.

As he made his way back home — nestled in the hills above the village — his attention caught on a familiar figure.

Those tattoos were very eye-catching, not to mention that broad frame that could tower over most of the villagers here.

Ravik was sitting on a huge rock, staring at the darkening sky. In his hand was some sort of necklace. From his view, Xion could see that it wasn’t made of silver or gold.

Instead of precious metal, the necklace was made of colorful beads strung on a plain black thread.

"Is he missing someone?" Xion muttered mostly to himself.

The guard was quick to answer, "He might be, my lord. That type of jewelry is given by wives to their husbands so they could safely return to them."

So many cultures. So many rituals. But underneath it all was the same simple truth. People just wanted to protect their loved ones.

Family...

Xion looked up just in time to spot a blur of purple racing up the hill toward him. His purple tuft of hair was tousled wildly by the wind. As always...

I also have a family.

"Slow down!" Xion called, hurrying forward. "How many times have I told you not to run down the hill? Do you want to break a leg?!"

The guards behind him maintained a respectful distance, smiling at the familiar scene.

It was a daily routine.

Their Lord Xion scolding the young master Noxian for being reckless.

Still, none of them dared to smile too openly. They knew the seemingly obedient young master could knock out half their squad if he wanted.