CHAPTER 15: MAIL

Richard returned to the village on his horse, galloping at incredible speed.

He arrived before nightfall and spotted Mr. Joe standing in front of the orphanage, speaking with Sister Lisa.

In all his seven years of life, Richard had never once seen the drunken old man visit the orphanage, so the sight came as quite a surprise.

When Mr. Joe noticed him approaching, he immediately ran toward him.

"Richard, Richard!" he shouted, making it clear that he had come specifically for him.

Richard dismounted and asked, "What is it?"

Since Richard had begun reading his books two years ago, he had interacted with Mr. Joe more often—sometimes even helping him with small tasks.

But never before had the old man sought him out like this.

"Come with me..." The old man suddenly grabbed Richard’s hand and pulled him away from the orphanage in a hurry, stopping only once they had reached a place where no one else was around.

Richard grew even more confused. He had already asked, so he didn’t press further—he simply waited for the old man to speak.

But instead, Mr. Joe raised the wine jug he always carried and took a long drink, which made Richard scowl in irritation.

"Ahhh..." The old man sighed with relief after drinking.

"Old man, just tell me already," Richard said, unable to hold back.

As he spoke, Mr. Joe pulled something out of his robe pocket—it turned out to be a folded piece of paper.

"Help me read this," he said.

Hearing that, Richard rolled his eyes.

"I thought it was something serious, and it turns out you just want me to read," he muttered with a pout, snatching the paper from his hand.

But the moment his eyes scanned the words on the page, he had to fight to keep his expression from changing too much.

When he glanced at Mr. Joe’s face now, he found it full of hope and curiosity.

Yet the contents of the letter read:

(Damn old Joe, stop sending me your rotten grapes. I may like grapes, but I will never eat any from your filthy vineyard, damn you. You’re already old, yet you still chase after me. Do you know that I feel like I’ve been chased by dogs my whole life? Damn you, why are you still alive when I always expected you to die badly!)

"What does it say?" Mr. Joe asked, seeing that Richard had finished reading.

At that question, Richard didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Recently, he had learned that Mr. Joe had once loved a woman in his youth and still loved her even now, despite both of them being old.

Coincidentally, the woman had never married. Mr. Joe had continued pursuing her, sending grapes from his vineyard to her every harvest.

In fact, the very reason he grew grapes at all was for her.

She was also the reason he had become both a drunkard and a heavy gambler.

Yet all this time, the woman had never once responded. She had always ignored him.

Today, it seemed, was the first time she had ever written back.

If Richard were to tell him the letter’s true contents, he feared Mr. Joe might throw himself into the river.

So he forced a smile to hide his true expression.

"Mr. Joe, it’s a note of gratitude—for always sending grapes to the sender," he said, lying through his teeth.

Mr. Joe instantly looked thrilled. Even the effect of the wine seemed to vanish at once.

"What else?" he pressed, making Richard feel an ache in his chest.

He had to lie again.

"The sender seems to hope she can keep enjoying your grapes until the end of her life."

"Hahahaha..." Mr. Joe burst into roaring laughter.

"Richard, quick! Get your horse and take me to Apple Town. If you do, I’ll pay you and give you the most precious book of my ancestors, kept safe in Apple Town."

Richard: "..."

In the end, things spiraled out of control. Still, Richard agreed to Mr. Joe’s request to escort him to Apple Town—if only because he was deeply curious about the priceless book he had promised.

He had already been full of plans to leave the village one day, and now, suddenly, he was about to do so in the dead of night.

Of course, he asked Sister Lisa for permission.

Though she disagreed at first, Richard insisted, and she eventually gave in.

She dared to let him go because she trusted in his horse’s ability and believed in him—especially since he already possessed magical strength.

One horse, one seven-year-old boy, and one old man carrying a sack of grapes.

Richard sat in front while Mr. Joe sat behind him, holding a torch fueled by special oil so that its flame would not go out under any condition, save when the oil itself ran dry.

Mr. Joe explained that all they needed to do was follow the road outside the village and take a right turn at every fork.

Athena, clever as ever, hardly needed any instruction—she knew exactly where to go.

Even with an extra passenger, her speed did not falter. In fact, she ran even faster now that she had the open road before her.

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