When the Silent Man stepped into his brother's house again, a corpse wrapped in a white shroud was lying upright in the lobby. The Silent One placed a black rose on the chest of his little nephew, a ritual designed to protect young souls from evil gods until the departing souls were guided into the guardianship of the Holy Spirit.

It's an expensive ritual, black roses have always been rare, the plague has pushed their demand to unprecedented levels, and they can only be used once. When the temple priest performs the final rites for this young being, the flower will be burned and the boy's soul will be released by smoke and captured by the ravens of the gods.

The Silent Man looked up and looked away from his nephew's corpse to look at the two parents who had fallen into deep remorse. Yuan Kou's face showed a pitiful expression of pain and guilt, like a father who blamed himself for not doing enough. The pain engraved on his face will never be erased, it is the imprint he will always carry on his body, the symbol of the black spot in his heart.

As the child's mother, Wen Qiuxi's appearance is even more haggard. Her beautiful face was dignified and elegant, her lips were pursed, and her expression was solemn. She may be patiently listening to the guild president's recent tirade or watching her husband and shepherds haggle over the quality of the wool.

There was no expression on her face, only a terrible helplessness. The Speechless looked into her eyes and shuddered, for the emptiness in her eyes was so absolute that there was no room for even sadness. In contrast, the eyes of the corpses are more alive.

"Thank you for coming, my brother," Yuan Kou said sadly, hugging his brother, trembling at every word.

"How could I not come?" The Speechless said, placing his hand on the shoulder of his grieving brother and comforting, "I will not leave him to the person who collects the body and let him be thrown into their car like a piece of meat." As long as I'm still here, I'll get all the dignity that a speechless person deserves. ”

"When the time comes, will you do the same for us?" Wen Qiuxi's voice was as cautious and precise as her stiff and composed face.

The Speechless Man lowered his hooded head, and he didn't speak, because he didn't want to discuss such a thing now. He had just lost a family member, and he didn't want to talk about losing someone else. Now he has only the two brothers and sisters-in-law left besides his own family, and he doesn't want to think about what will happen after they leave.

And yet he knew he had to, and he knew they had to think so. The Black Death was a cruel and greedy plague that was like a stealthy wolf, not just a victim, but an entire family. The place where the plague once raged soon showed its hideous face.

The Speechless Man placed his hand on the child's head, feeling the boy's cold flesh through the shroud. Despite the charlatan's boastful knowledge and skills, the plague doctor failed to save his patients, and the barbaric treatment of his young and helpless nephew was pointless.

A terrible suspicion suddenly flashed through the mind of the speechless man, and his hand gripped the shroud tightly. His eager gaze swept over Yuan Kou and Wen Qiuxi. In the midst of pain and despair, they accept what the doctor tells them. Even if they were skeptical, they didn't know what reason to refute it.

Before the speechless could question the correctness of his actions, he tore off the shroud covering the corpse. Wen Qiuxi, who was reawakened to her memory, screamed loudly, and her composure was finally broken. Yuan Kou wailed in disbelief and pounced on his brother. The Speechless Man grabbed him with one hand and pointed to the corpse with the other. "Look!" He growled.

Yuan Kou stepped past the Speechless and stared at the pale, unmarked skin of his dead son with puzzled eyes. In a state of extreme grief, he simply could not connect the sight in front of him with what the speechless wanted him to see. He turned his pleading gaze to the speechless and pleaded with him wordlessly.

"There are no traces," the Silent One announced with a serious expression, raising his stiff arms to expose his armpits, and turning his head from side to side to emphasize the smooth, flawless skin. "The traces of the Black Death are not here. I've seen a lot of it and know the traces it leaves behind. The Speechless Man spoke, his excited tone turning into a sad whisper. Whatever illness he had, I was sure it wasn't the plague. ”

Yuan Kou bit his knuckles, trying to stop the terrifying wail that came out of his throat. Wen Qiuxi didn't say anything, she turned back into the calm wife, her face was like a wooden mask, and her eyes were as empty as a puppet. She turned and exited the room with aplomb. After a while, her footsteps can be heard going upstairs.

Yuan Kou waited until his wife's footsteps faded in the upstairs hall before approaching his brother. His jaw was tense and his expression was cold and resolute. "How did my son die?"

The Silent Man shook his head. Because he knew that it was useless to tell his brother, and that knowing this would only bring him more pain, and that the poor father had had enough of the hurt. Ignoring the question, he draped the shroud tightly over the child's body and began to fold the deceased's hands over his chest again.

Yuan Kou held his hand tightly, as if he wanted to crush the other party's hand. "How did my son die?" He repeated.

"Don't ask me this," the Wordless said to him, trying to pull his hands away from the two pincers.

"How did my son die?!"

The speechless man heard the frantic pleading in his brother's voice, and his heart felt uncomfortable. Maybe he didn't know it would be a curse as terrible as the truth, but he doubted it.

"There was too much blood on Biao'er," said the Silent One eventually, "and there wasn't enough money left to feed him." ”

The Silent Man had never felt so ashamed in his life that he was right, and even when he discovered the fraudulent accounts of the local patron, which prompted him to be kicked out of Nango, he had never felt so sorry for being right. He said that the Plague Doctor was a charlatan and a scavenger, and now his brother has admitted that he was right.

"That bastard killed him," Yuan Kou muttered, repeating over and over again, his voice changing from an empty whisper to a fierce growl.

The Silent Man listened with great concern to his brother's outburst. He groped in the corridors of his mind, looking for something, any word, to say to him, that would alleviate the pain and guilt he felt. But despite all his education, the books he read, and the secret rituals and esoteric knowledge he learned, he couldn't find anything to say. He knows that some grief cannot be quelled, and like the bitterness of winter and life, we must endure, not avoid.

An upstairs commotion woke Yuan Kou from his pain. He looked up and stared at the ceiling for a moment, looking confused. Then, the last bit of blood on his face vanished, and a desperate sound came out of his mouth. "She knows," he gasped. Yuan Kou turned around, glared at the speechless, and roared hysterically, "Don't you understand? She knows!"

Instead of waiting, Yuan Kou rushed out of the room and frantically climbed the stairs, rushing towards the horror he knew was too late to stop. The Speechless Man stayed behind him for only a moment, pondering the meaning of his brother's words. Then the speechless man calmly pulled up his robe and ran towards his brother.

The Plague Doctor's family killed the child through his savage disguise, not Yuan Kou, the elder brother, who sent someone to find his Silent Brother. It turned out to be her! She saw the child as her own life, when she knew it was because of herself....... The Speechless Man didn't dare to think any further, he knew why his brother was so anxious, and he hoped that everything was still in time.

The Silent Man walked from the door of the hall to the room where his nephew had died, when a pitiful wail shook the house. The heart-wrenching sound came from inside the room. It took a great deal of courage for him to enter the room, and like his brother, he knew what he could find. Only now, there is no doubt that it is too late to stop the tragedy from continuing to develop.

Yuan Kou sat on the floor in the middle of the room, crying like a child, his wife's beautiful figure clinging to his arms, her golden hair scattered over his shoulders.

Not far away, where Wen Qiuxi's lifeless hand fell, there was a sharp dagger that was stained with blood.