Just as Professor Drake recorded, Mr. Roland, the Poet, experienced his adventures this year, in the Spring of 1853.
It was a sunny day, and Mr. Roland, carrying his notebook and a small self-defense knife, went to the wetland lake area west of Huntington City for an outing and inspiration.
Although his main profession was a translator, Mr. Roland had a wide circle of friends. As he passed by his friend Mr. Cedric's apple orchard, he strolled casually through it, preparing to compose a short poem about the frost on trees in Winter.
And when he reached the depths of the orchard's Woodland, a human face suddenly appeared on a nearby tree. More accurately, the patterns and cracks on the tree trunk formed a human face:
"I know it's hard to believe, but I'm sure it wasn't a hallucination caused by me being drunk."
At this point, Mr. Roland in the tavern, still holding his wine glass, explained:
"I usually don't drink when I write poetry."
Just like the fisherman from Lower Luther Village was startled by the talking snake, Mr. Roland, despite being more educated than a villager, was still frightened by such a strange occurrence in Spring.
He described his panic at the time to Xia De, and how he desperately tried to flee:
"I don't remember how long I ran, but I couldn't escape that Woodland. Yes, I feel like I haven't had such strenuous exercise since I was chased three blocks by a stray dog on the street in the Autumn of 1850."
Mr. Roland recalled, and Xia De nodded and took notes, feeling that these magical experiences were even more interesting than the Lake Goddess herself.
The human face on the tree could move across the trunk, so when Mr. Roland no longer had the strength to go forward, the human face on the trunk spoke again.
"It sounded like it was singing, just like a fairy tale. I can't describe the sound the tree made, but the song was roughly asking me, when Spring is about to arrive and Winter's snow will melt, won't those snows look very pitiful?"
The Poet said, taking a big gulp of wine. The ale in this small tavern wasn't very strong, so there was no need to worry about getting drunk.
"So how did you answer then?"
Xia De asked curiously. Mr. Roland traced circles in the air with his right index finger and hummed softly:
"Snow is Winter's messenger. When Spring comes, they should yield their place to let flowers and sunshine come to the human world."
This statement was indeed very much like a Poet's tone.
"So if it were you, Mr. Watson, how would you answer?"
The Poet asked Xia De again. Xia De thought for a moment:
"Snow doesn't disappear; it turns into water, soaking the earth in Spring. They will re-evaporate into the sky in the upcoming Summer, fall as rain in Autumn, and turn back into snow covering the earth in Winter. This is a cycle; snow does not die."
Mr. Roland smiled:
"Do you mind if I write down your words?"
After answering the question from the human face on the tree, the face seemed very satisfied with the Poet's answer. Then the ground shook, and the trees that had surrounded Mr. Roland parted, creating a small path.
Trapped in the Woodland, Mr. Roland fearfully followed that path to its end, and at the end, he saw a lake.
"I immediately thought of the legend of the Lake Goddess. Mr. Watson, I am a local. Although I am just a commoner, my family has lived and spread here for five generations. I grew up listening to local stories, so it's easy for me to associate them with those wonderful rumors."
"Did you walk across the ice to Lake Heart Island?"
Xia De asked, but the Poet shook his head slightly:
"No, no, Spring had already arrived then, and there was no ice on the lake. However, there was a small boat by the lake. When I sat in the boat, it automatically carried me, without even needing to row, gliding across the lake's silky surface, heading towards the vibrant and flourishing Lake Heart Island."
He narrowed his eyes, enjoying his memory.
Xia De nodded, once again writing this down in his notebook. It seemed that the season of that lake corresponded to the real world, rather than always maintaining the Winter appearance described by Grafford, the one-eyed fisherman:
"Next question, what did you encounter on Lake Heart Island?"
"I met a middle-aged Lady wearing a white robe and leaning on a white oak staff. Although she was dressed very simply, I felt that even the queen in the newspaper was not as beautiful as her."
This point differed from what old Grafford of Lower Luther Village said; the fisherman encountered an old woman.
"Did you make a wish to her?"
"Yes, but before that, she asked me to write a poem for her, to praise her beauty, which was not difficult for me. Or rather, even if she hadn't asked me to, I would still have written a poem; her beauty is unparalleled."
The Poet said nostalgically.
"After I finished the poem, she asked me if I had any wishes. At the time, my head was a bit dazed with excitement. I had intended to say 'talent,' but then I felt that my talent was already very outstanding, and asking for more talent would be unfair to other Poets."
"Yes."
Xia De secretly suppressed a smile.
"So, in the end, I wished for luck from The Lady."
He pointed to the rhode cards next to the wine glass on the table.
"And then you left?"
"Yes, later I tried to find that lake again, but I couldn't find it. But this extraordinary luck did appear in my life."
Mr. Roland sighed, holding his wine glass with his intact left hand and clinking it with Xia De's:
"It's a wonderful story, isn't it? But I don't want to share it with anyone because I don't want those greedy people to disturb The Lady's peace."
Xia De frowned and took a sip of his wine, very satisfied with this watered-down wine, which tasted somewhat like grape juice:
"I noticed that in your story, you didn't mention how your fingers became like this."
"Actually, in my memory, I can't find any reason why I'm missing these two fingers."
Mr. Roland shook his head, looking equally puzzled:
"It seems they were always like this. In all my old photos, my hands look like this, and my friends all say that my hands were like this when they met me. But I clearly remember that I wasn't born with this disability, so there must be something wrong, but I just can't remember."
"Is it related to your special experience this Spring?"
Xia De asked, and the Poet shook his head slightly:
"Probably related, I don't know either."
"Then would you mind telling me the address of that orchard?"
"Of course, I wish you success, Mr. Watson. But please, don't be greedy, yes, absolutely don't be greedy."
He took a fountain pen from his pocket, pulled Xia De's notebook over, and wrote down letters in blue-black ink on his notebook. This was the orchard's address:
"All we can get are those things that will eventually belong to us."
After writing, he didn't immediately return Xia De's notebook. Instead, he selected star 1 of the 【Carson Rick Horror Story · Headless Knight Jack】 from his deck, placed the rhode cards in the notebook, and handed it to Xia De:
"This belongs to you."
"Why?"
Xia De asked curiously, picking up the rhode cards to examine it.
Mr. Roland shrugged:
"You did win against me. Since you don't want my money, then take this rhode cards. You deserve to have it. Moreover, I believe you are the kind of person who will definitely help others once you've received a favor. So, please try your best to find Lake Cherub and let the Lake Goddess take back the luck from me. Yes, take it back, I really can't bear this luck anymore."
Xia De looked at the Headless Knight's card face and smiled:
"I will, I promise you."
It was two o'clock in the afternoon when he left the tavern, probably the warmest time of the day, but in early Winter, the biting wind could still send shivers down one's spine.
Mr. Cedric's orchard, mentioned by Mr. Roland, was a rather large apple orchard in the western part of Huntington City. The owner of the orchard, Mr. Cedric, was not a local but a wealthy merchant from Weilandale, and the orchard and bookshop were just some of his properties.
Xia De didn't want to encounter the same bad luck as yesterday, so he didn't detour to the east of the city to find Mr. Bernhardt for a letter of introduction. Instead, he rode his horse directly to the west of the city.
Cedric's orchard was very large, and it was impossible to fence off the entire Woodland. Furthermore, by Winter, there were no fruits left on the treetops, and even the orchard's guards had little interest in patrolling. So, when Xia De led his horse into the Woodland from the east side of the orchard, in the direction near Lake Ryan, he didn't attract anyone's attention.
He still remembered Professor Drake saying that one should not search with the explicit goal of finding the Lake Goddess, but he found it difficult to control his thoughts. Last night, he encountered a pack of wolves and had an accident while chasing an escaping wolf, but there were no unobservant wolves in this Woodland to provoke Xia De.
Walking leisurely through the Woodland with his horse, dry branches were overhead, and soft earth was underfoot. Xia De knew that continuing to walk would likely yield no clues, so he found a sparse patch of Woodland and stopped. He tied the horse to a tree, letting it eat the remaining sparse weeds, while Xia De leaned against a tree trunk and sat down. Then he took out his notebook, intending to complete the outline of the mathematical thesis he planned to write.
He had already started writing a portion of it last night. If he could finish it today, he would have time tomorrow and the day after to ask Silvia for help with proofreading.
The Winter sun in the countryside was just right, illuminating the notebook and the handsome young man in a black coat, who was completely absorbed in mathematical problems.
Beside him, the reddish-brown horse, saddled, was docilely eating grass. Occasionally, it would lift its head to look into the distance, then impatiently stomp the ground with its horseshoe, as if curious about what Xia De was doing.
It was a very ordinary Winter afternoon, and Xia De was looking forward to another encounter.
