Now as well.
Berkeley obviously heard the commotion and stepped outside to see what was going on.
Meeting Berkeley’s questioning gaze, Yan Chuan repeated what he had just discussed with Ash.
“He’s gotten a little hurt…” Yan Chuan explained, “I wanted to ask if you have any medicine left?”
Berkeley nodded, “I do. I’ll go with you.”
Receiving a reasonably good answer, Yan Chuan felt a bit relieved.
Fortunately, there was still a first aid kit available at this time.
However, the supplies in it would eventually run out, and if another accident occurred…
Yan Chuan frowned slightly, showing a hint of distress.
Berkeley asked Yan Chuan to wait outside for a moment and quickly came out with some supplies.
He probably hadn’t anticipated that his task of searching for research materials would also involve taking on the role of a doctor. His handsome and refined face revealed a trace of fatigue.
He hadn’t finished tidying up the items on the table before leaving.
The window was open for ventilation, causing the thick notebook on the table to flutter open, and a thin piece of paper fell to the floor.
It fell right at Yan Chuan’s feet, and he picked it up.
“Yours,” he said, handing back the yellowed paper, his gaze quickly scanning its contents.
It was a newspaper.
The date was over twenty years ago, making it quite an old paper. The thin sheet was preserved well, without even a crease.
There was a line in large text.
“A massive gold mine discovered in Misty Mountain Forest!!!”
With three exclamation marks, Yan Chuan lingered briefly, taking in the content.
By this time, Berkeley had already retrieved his items.
“Data,” he said, adjusting his monocle, resting it on the bridge of his nose, “collected before arriving at Misty Mountain Forest. Just a handy find.”
Berkeley spoke in a neutral tone, and Yan Chuan softly responded with an “oh.”
“Should we hurry down?”
When Yan Chuan descended, the middle-aged man had already been subdued.
He had drunk too much, his face and neck flushed red, and in his intoxication, he was starting to lash out before being controlled.
Brandon had restrained him, using a piece of coarse rope Ash had found, casually tying him in the corner.
The middle-aged man was still mumbling curse words, not yet fully sober.
Yan Chuan tugged at Berkeley’s sleeve.
Berkeley stood in front of Madam Lan, opening the small first aid kit he had brought, saying, “I’ll take care of this.”
“The glass shards can easily get stuck in the wound,” he said, “they need to be removed.”
Madam Lan nodded.
She held the injured boy’s hand, folding the clothing up.
The situation was not too serious.
Most of the glass shards had fallen to the ground, and since the boy had been protected, not much had gotten on him.
Perhaps because it didn’t hurt too badly, the boy didn’t cry out in pain but bit his lip and glared at people instead.
Yan Chuan glanced over and confirmed that the little boy was looking in the direction of the middle-aged man.
The man’s eyes were a light shade of blue, but they didn’t appear clear; instead, they looked somewhat unnatural due to the glare.
This expression didn’t seem very characteristic of a seven or eight-year-old child.
Yan Chuan looked to where the boy’s gaze pointed and caught a glimpse of the middle-aged man cursing in the corner.
Strange.
Yan Chuan recalled that since entering this script, the little boy had been taken care of by Madam Lan and should be her child; he hadn’t heard him call out for “mom” or “dad.”
Madam Lan was very attentive to this little boy, but it seemed that her child was not very obedient and did not listen much.
The last time he saw the boy show a semblance of happiness was while watching Ash fix a vehicle for travelers.
Yan Chuan pursed his lips, his gaze lingering between the boy and the middle-aged man.
Of course, it was also possible he hadn’t put much thought into the boy’s situation.
While Yan Chuan was lost in thought, Berkeley quickly treated the abrasions on the child’s arm.
After ensuring that no glass shards were embedded, he looked at the boy’s baggy pants.
There was a dark mark on the knee, and thinking there was a wound there, he reached out to check its severity.
Madam Lan stopped him.
“Wait!”
In front of Berkeley’s frowning expression, Madam Lan let out a short “ah” and instinctively swatted his hand away.
Her action was a bit abrupt, and Yan Chuan furrowed his brow slightly.
Madam Lan then realized, hurriedly apologizing.
“I’m sorry…” She wore an embarrassed expression, nodding and bowing to Berkeley, “That was just the child being mischievous, bumping into the stairs…”
Madam Lan glanced at Yan Chuan as if afraid he, the innkeeper, would hold her responsible.
Berkeley paused for a moment, appearing somewhat disapproving, “Then it should be treated as well.”
Madam Lan had no choice but to nod.
**Author’s Note**:
Quickly pushing the plot forward.
Happy Children’s Day! Sending everyone twenty small red envelopes!
**Chapter 102: The Night of Terror at the Inn Part 8**
Yan Chuan furrowed his brow slightly.
While Berkeley was treating the wounds on the boy’s arms and legs caused by glass shards, why did Madam Lan not want him to lift the pant leg to take a look?
The little boy was held close by Madam Lan, his chin resting on her shoulder, hiding his face, and Yan Chuan couldn’t discern his expression.
Only Madam Lan, with her headscarf on, appeared tense, her eyes darting around, her lips muttering, while her hands tightly gripped the waistband of the boy’s pants.
Madam Lan even hugged the little boy more tightly, as if to protect him from any strong actions.
The boy remained silent, but his small fists thumped a few times on the table.
Their lack of cooperation forced Berkeley to pause.
He glanced at Yan Chuan with a hint of apology, conveying he didn’t know how to handle such a tense doctor-patient relationship.
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