The wilderness of this world is not safe at night—venomous insects and wild beasts roam about. On the road as a refugee, he had seen with his own eyes many people bitten to death and dragged away by beasts, and he himself had nearly died in the jaws of a ferocious animal.

Regardless of whether they caught up with the madwoman or not, they should have returned to the village as soon as possible—how could they stay out all night?

Could it be that after the whole family went out, they were all killed by wild beasts?

Or is there another reason?

The Liu clan of the gentry.

Henry Clark felt a stir in his heart.

Yesterday, the madwoman shouted in front of everyone, and today, her entire family disappeared—this was just too much of a coincidence.

If it really was the Liu clan who did it, why would they do such a thing?

Was it because of what Mrs. Turner said yesterday?

Would they go so far just because of the mad ramblings of a madwoman?

On the other hand, if it really was the Liu clan, then it proves that what Mrs. Turner said yesterday was true.

At this thought, a chill rose in Henry Clark's heart.

The villagers who lived in those empty houses in Kaoshan Village all died, but not from the plague—they were claimed by vengeful ghosts.

Vengeful ghosts taking lives—Henry Clark never believed in such things before, but after experiencing something as absurd as transmigrating, what else was impossible?

Besides, in this world, there really is a supernatural power like martial arts, so other bizarre things happening is only normal.

"Uncle, was Mrs. Turner always mad before?"

Henry Clark took a deep breath to calm himself and asked.

A trace of unnatural expression flashed across the faces of several village men, but they quickly covered it up.

"She wasn't mad before, but after that plague, both her children died of illness. Since then, she went mad, always talking nonsense. Child, don't take it to heart."

It was still that old man who answered.

"Uncle, was there really a plague here before?"

Henry Clark suddenly asked.

"Of course it was real. Many acquaintances passed away."

The old man sighed.

Henry Clark tried to ask a few more questions in a roundabout way, but didn't get any useful information.

But Henry Clark still felt something was off, though he couldn't say exactly what—it was just that he had too little information.

"Since I'm here, I might as well settle in and take things one step at a time. I'll just have to be more cautious in the future."

Henry Clark thought to himself.

As for moving away from Kaoshan Village, that was unrealistic.

His whole family was already registered as villagers of Kaoshan Village, and all the other villages were full. Even if they wanted to move, they would be turned away.

As for moving to Changfeng City, that was even less realistic—the price of even a single house in the city was astronomical for them.

Afterwards, Henry Clark took another walk around the village, observing carefully, but found nothing unusual.

At dusk, William Clark finally returned from the mountains, bringing back a small basket of wild fruits and six or seven wild yams.

Henry Clark weighed them—each wild yam was over a jin.

Wild yams are widely distributed; there were some in the mountains of his original hometown too, but after the natural disaster, even the grass had been dug up.

But the area around Changfeng City hadn't suffered disaster, and the people had surplus grain, so they rarely went into the mountains to forage. That's why this place was considered "rich in resources"—wild vegetables, wild fruits, and wild yams were not hard to find.

"Look at this..."

William Clark opened a bundle of firewood and took out a wild pheasant.

The pheasant was plump, weighing about three jin.

"Dear, you really caught a pheasant! Today we can give Henry a good meal to nourish his body."

Olivia Smith beamed with joy, and Henry Clark's stomach grumbled loudly in response.

"Dear, clean the pheasant, but be careful not to let anyone else see. I'll go chop some stinkwood."

With that, William Clark took his hatchet and went out. Soon, he returned with a large bundle of fresh green branches and spread them around the kitchen.

Stinkwood was a plant not found on Earth; it gave off a pungent odor. Laying it around the kitchen could effectively mask the smell of stewing meat.

Other villagers couldn't even get enough coarse rice to eat, let alone meat. If they found out they had caught a pheasant, they would surely be envious and jealous, and who knows what sneaky things they might do. Better to be cautious.

Not until it was completely dark did Olivia Smith butcher half the pheasant and stew it with wild yams. The rich aroma made Henry Clark salivate uncontrollably.

"Henry, eat more. Dear, you have to go hunting in the mountains, so you should eat more too."

Once it was ready, Olivia Smith served a big bowl each to Henry Clark and William Clark, mostly filled with chicken, while she herself only had a small bowl, mostly wild yams.

"Mom, this drumstick is for you. It's too much for me—I can't finish it."

Henry Clark tried to give a chicken drumstick to Olivia Smith.

He knew that Olivia Smith worked hard digging in the fields during the day, and he was the only one in the family who hadn't done anything.

Mainly, he had just recovered from a serious illness and was still weak, unable to do anything for now.

"Henry, you haven't fully recovered yet. This is the time to nourish your body—you should eat more. Mom has enough."

Olivia Smith pushed the drumstick back to Henry Clark.

"That's right, Henry, you eat more. Dad ate wild fruit in the mountains and isn't hungry. Give some to your mom."

William Clark picked a few pieces of chicken from his own bowl and gave them to Olivia Smith.

Henry Clark couldn't argue with his parents, so he could only eat heartily. The only thing he could do now was to recover as quickly as possible, so he could help share their burdens.