CH-026

At this moment, the ox cart was rolling along the trade road from Savoie to Stonehollow.

The slippery wheels jolted over a small stone on the road, and everyone on the cart lurched along with it.

The wind brushed across Finnian's face, stirring all manner of thoughts within him.

For now, the surrounding trade road looked no different from the ones he usually walked — stretches of continuous mountain forest, even the kinds of trees the same as those behind his home. Beyond the forest lay patches of lush green fields, some marked as noble private land, others shared among the pastoral farming households. The scenery looked neat and orderly, as though it had been painted over with a brush.

This reminded Finnian of the watercolor paintings in his textbooks, and of one particular argument he'd had with a teacher.

The teacher had said this was a kind of beauty, a kind of enjoyment — that students should receive from the painting the painter's love for the world.

Finnian had said that the painter had never been out to the fields. The countryside wasn't beautiful at all — there was endless farmwork, weeds, bugs, and the constant worry over the harvest. Grass growing like that would take a great deal of effort to manage, leaving one's back aching all day, unbearable. And in summer, everyone would be burnt to a reddish-brown, and small children's faces would be raw and itching.

Finnian couldn't see the beauty — only the hardship.

Who would have the leisure to go out to the fields and appreciate them? It must have been painted by someone who had never known the smoke and toil of ordinary life.

The teacher said Finnian didn't understand.

Finnian had sincerely asked: "Then where exactly don't I understand? I feel like I do understand."

He truly didn't know what point the teacher was making.

"Why must you always have so many questions?"

The teacher never explained, but would say that Finnian liked to find fault in class, always challenging the teacher's authority. After that, whenever Finnian wanted to express his thoughts, the teachers would simply ignore him.

"As long as you behave and listen to what others say, that's enough." Finnian's mother would sometimes notice her son's frustration.

"That would be so boring!"

Finnian didn't want to be a blindly obedient yes-man.

He wanted to leave school.

But after finishing his basic education early, Finnian found himself facing the stark reality — his future held only three paths: go to Carson City as an apprentice; enroll in a church school for further study; or return home to help out.

Children in the Savoie pastoral district rarely chose to go to church school. And Finnian didn't want to stay home, living out a life whose end he could already see. But he didn't want to go to Carson City as an apprentice either — he simply didn't like doing the same repetitive work day after day.

Because nothing had been decided yet, and because he had finished his coursework early and was still only eleven years old, his family let him idle at home for half a year. He proceeded to stir up trouble across the whole village and the neighboring town.

Still, he truly didn't know what he wanted to do.

Among those countless aimless days, he suddenly had a whim and went to find the newly arrived priest of the Savoie pastoral district.

This was the thing Finnian felt he had done most rightly in his entire life.

He had deliberately bumped his head into Alistair's arm to get his attention. Alistair had laughed despite himself and gently patted his head. "What's wrong?"

"I just like doing this!"

Finnian stated it with complete confidence.

Alistair thought for a moment and said, "Shall we play a game together?"

"What game?" Finnian lit up with excitement in an instant.

"This time we'll play 'Race to 30.' From 1 to 30, we each take turns saying one to three numbers at a time. Whoever reaches 30 first wins — how about it?"

Finnian had in fact lost to Alistair many times, yet he was excited every single time, because he simply liked people who were smarter than him. Learning something new every day was what made him happiest.

……

The wheels lurched up and down several times, and Raymond, who was driving the ox cart, called out.

"We've now entered the boundaries of the Stonehollow pastoral district."

It was Finnian's first time leaving the Savoie pastoral district. Hearing those words, he instinctively looked back at the scenery that had already disappeared from his sight, and inexplicably felt something different about himself.

A little novel!

He continued looking left and right at the surrounding scenery. "This looks pretty much the same as where we come from."

Raymond was tense at this point, and hearing Finnian speak as though this were a pleasure outing made his heart clench. "Aren't you even afraid of demons? If you hear a demon's voice at night and get frightened, don't expect me to take care of you."

Finnian was completely unconcerned. He patted his chest and said, "Courage is built through practice. I'm someone who's nearly died once already — something like this is small-time stuff to me."

Raymond couldn't stand this bluster and said, unable to help himself: "When Father Alistair said before we set off that he wanted to ask your parents' permission first, your face went pale — you looked absolutely terrified of being left behind. If you ever actually ran into a demon, you'd definitely hide behind Father Alistair and not dare to move."

Finnian's face instantly went hot, and he instinctively glanced toward Father Alistair. Seeing him watching his own reaction, Finnian simply crossed his arms and brashly insisted: "You didn't see my face go pale, so it didn't happen!"

After blurting that out, Finnian immediately changed the subject, saying: "Alistair, you clearly had this planned. You don't need to tell me early, but you still made me have to ask to come along myself."

When negotiating with Finnian's parents, Father Alistair had said he wanted to borrow Finnian for one night, to use his ears to listen to the sounds recently coming from the Stonehollow pastoral district.

At the time, the village elder himself felt this was quite dangerous.

But he also trusted in Father Alistair's abilities, and he knew Finnian well enough — once his curiosity was piqued, he would definitely sneak off anyway. It was better to let Father Alistair keep an eye on him.

After all, ever since meeting Father Alistair, Finnian had gradually settled down.

He no longer stirred up trouble for others. Every day after coming home, he'd chat with his family. Occasionally he'd stay up at night tinkering with things Father Alistair had given him, and he'd frequently go to Aunt Evon's library to borrow books — since if there was anything interesting, he'd read.

Though nobody knew what would come of these idle pursuits, it was at least better than going around pulling pranks on people.

Thinking it over, the village elder had gritted his teeth and agreed, treating it as a chance for the boy to see the wider world. Before they left, he repeatedly reminded Finnian to stay safe and stuffed salt packets for warding off demons into his pockets.

Father Alistair had given his assurance three times over that he would not let Finnian get hurt.

The more Finnian thought back on it, the more he felt Father Alistair had had this planned all along.

But the young priest across from him, calm and cool, replied without any of the vagueness he'd used in front of the village elder: "It's not as though I could say I was taking you along for fun, could I?"

Finnian didn't believe he'd be of no use. "Aren't you at all afraid there might be demons?" He was still looking forward to having Father Alistair hide behind him that night, to show off just how impressive he was!

"There are no demons," Father Alistair replied directly. "So there won't be any danger."

If there truly were any, he would never take a child to a dangerous place.

Raymond questioned Father Alistair's firm certainty: "But even I heard the sound of a demon swallowing. I felt like it was getting closer and closer. I have a feeling — tonight or tomorrow night, something big is definitely going to happen!"

Father Alistair was not swayed by Raymond's anxiety, and simply asked: "The swallowing sound you heard only happened once or twice at most, correct?"

"Yes." Raymond was bewildered by Father Alistair's words, unsure how he could have known, or whether Raymond himself had unconsciously mentioned it before and forgotten.

Father Alistair pressed further: "The swallowing sound and the knocking sound the townspeople mentioned — those happened during the same time period, right?"

"Yes."

Father Alistair's expression relaxed. "Then there's no need to worry too much. The matter should be quite simple — you've all been overthinking it."

Finnian felt Alistair was being deliberately mysterious and couldn't help asking: "If it's not the sound of a demon, then what is it?"

"Just a water hammer," Father Alistair said from his seat on the cart.

Raymond was left looking thoroughly confused. "There's no river there, and it didn't rain last night — how could there be water? And besides, if it really were the sound of water, why would there only be one occurrence?"

Father Alistair asked in return: "Are you certain there really is no water nearby?"

Raymond, seeing how seriously Alistair was pressing the point, felt a vague doubt rise in his mind, though he was still quite certain inwardly. "There isn't..." He paused, watching Alistair's eyes closely, afraid that Alistair might find he'd been thinking about things too simply. If he hurt Alistair's pride, that would truly be a great sin in Raymond's eyes.

Raymond asked carefully: "Could things have gotten worse now?"

Alistair was unhurried, continuing to guide him: "Think carefully again — it's something we come into contact with every day."

Finnian tilted his head to one side. He quickly thought of something and asked, "Is there water inside the pipes in the houses?"

Father Alistair confirmed Finnian's answer, saying: "If the planning of Stonehollow pastoral district is similar to Savoie's, then every household should have water supply pipes installed that connect to the main pipe of the public square fountain. This kind of centralized water system is designed not only to direct water in all directions, but also to deliver water straight to each home. The closer a house is to the center of the square, the more clearly one would hear the sounds."

Raymond still couldn't quite understand. Aren't the pipes silent unless you turn them on? And besides, shouldn't the sound of water be more of a rushing "splash"?

"How could I possibly mistake the sound of water for the sound of a demon?" Raymond was unconvinced.

Father Alistair reassured him: "That's because there's normally no chance to hear it."

Raymond was a little puzzled.

"This is a relatively simple concept — there is a natural phenomenon in this world called the 'water hammer effect,'" Father Alistair explained. "It's a physical phenomenon. When a water valve is suddenly shut, the water still moving forward due to inertia crashes into the water ahead of it, which in turn crashes against the tightly sealed pipe wall, producing a sound."

Noticing the blank looks on everyone's faces, he smiled and continued explaining: "I'll use an imperfect but somewhat easy-to-understand example. Imagine the water in a pipe suddenly brakes — the water rushing forward slams against the pipe wall, like striking it with a hammer. Wouldn't that make a sound? Different from the usual sound of flowing water?"

He added: "When we're walking and carrying a water flask filled with water and suddenly stop, doesn't the water splash against the walls of the flask and make a sound? It's roughly the same principle."

Finnian blinked, immediately grasping it. He couldn't help saying, "That's so strange and wonderful! I absolutely have to listen carefully for it tonight."

Raymond was still absorbing the new knowledge in a daze. "I really have never heard that kind of sound in all my years."

Father Alistair smiled patiently and said, "If you'd like, tonight we can do a small experiment."

Raymond immediately waved his hands. "No, no! Making those sounds in the middle of the night would genuinely frighten people to death."

This gave Finnian a new train of thought. "But how do we know it was definitely the water hammer effect making the sound? What if there are other possibilities?"

"That's why I was actually thinking of going to the destination to confirm the situation first, then making a more accurate judgment. Finnian asked a very good question."

Hearing the praise, Finnian broke into a grin.

"If it truly is related to the water hammer effect," Father Alistair continued, "then this morning in the Stonehollow pastoral district, there should either be a water outage — meaning the water valve hasn't been opened yet — or the faucets will be spitting sand."

The pipe joints used in the pastoral districts weren't particularly refined and were prone to sediment seeping in. The pipes drew from river water, which contained sand. The water hammer effect would also cause sediment to be disturbed in the pipes. So the flowing water would certainly carry sand along with it.

Sure enough, as soon as Father Alistair arrived at the Stonehollow pastoral district, Father Symeon said the town's faucets had been "contaminated by a demon" — the water had gone impure.

Finnian and Raymond instinctively looked toward Alistair, who had predicted the truth.

Even though Father Alistair had explained the reasoning clearly in advance, when the facts matched the prediction one by one, it still produced a different kind of shock entirely.

Raymond was just about to praise Father Alistair when, at that very moment, a surge of powerful doubt — or rather, a sense of wrongness — rose in Finnian's heart, and he jumped in first.

"But wait, there's a problem," Finnian said, puzzled. "If the sound only occurs when a valve is closed, then who would go to the water supply pipes in the middle of the night to touch the valves? Normally no one ever goes near them, do they?"

That was an excellent question.

Father Alistair's gaze turned toward the center of the square.

"I believe we'll very soon know why the children have been crying every night when deep midnight arrives."

They were getting closer and closer to the truth.