“Creak, creak”—snowflakes crunched underfoot as James Carter lifted his head and habitually breathed warm air into his palms. Though his hands weren’t cold, he hadn’t expected to see two figures lying against the wall at the street corner ahead.

They were covered in snow, one large and one small—apparently a father and son. The little boy curled entirely in his father’s arms, his exposed face frozen with confusion and pain by the ice and snow.

The father leaned against the cold stone wall, his lifeless eyes frozen with sorrow and helplessness.

People bustled along the street, yet turned a blind eye to this human tragedy.

James Carter stared blankly at the scene, lost in thought. For someone who had spent the first half of his life in the abundance of an interstellar civilization, this was an unimaginable tragedy.

After a long while, James Carter smacked his lips, as if savoring the indifference that filled the air. He stepped forward and gently closed the father’s eyes.

Hoofbeats sounded behind him, and soon a carriage pulled up. James Carter turned to see four tall, magnificent horses, an exquisitely luxurious four-wheeled carriage, and, through the open window, a stunningly beautiful and delicate face.

The owner of that face had milk-white skin, lustrous wine-red wavy hair, and a pair of crystal-like crimson eyes. Everything about her exuded an unreal perfection, representing a life of refinement unattainable to commoners.

In that instant, the stark contrast between the impoverished dead and the extravagantly wealthy was overwhelming.

James Carter was momentarily dazed—not by the irony of society, but because this face was almost identical to the daughter of the fleet governor from his previous life!

“Young man, you are very special.” A soft, gentle voice came from those tender lips, melodious as a feather brushing a sensitive earlobe, making one want to hear it again and again.

“May I know your name, beautiful lady?” James Carter was only distracted for a moment before letting go of his inner restraints. He performed an elegant traditional Huazu salute from his previous life, appearing poised and dignified, with an indescribable air of nobility.

“Molly.” Her voice remained as soft as ever, and the interest on her lovely face deepened.

“Su.” Out of courtesy, James Carter also gave his name.

Just then, a patrolling soldier approached. Molly raised her hand and beckoned him over.

The soldier, seeing the young lady’s summons, walked over without hesitation. Upon reaching her, he knelt on one knee in the snow and respectfully said, “It is my honor to serve you, Miss Hall.”

Molly was used to such respect from soldiers. She pointed to the father and son’s bodies by the street, and said with some heaviness, “Take this poor father and son to the cemetery and bury them.”

The soldier had no doubt about the young lady’s order. He turned and called a few companions, who quickly wrapped the frozen father and son in straw mats and carried them away.

James Carter watched all of this. The girl shared a surname with the city lord, and with the soldiers’ respectful attitude, she must be the legendary only daughter of the city lord. Who knew which lucky guy would marry her in the future—winning both a beauty and the baron’s title and fief.

In this short time, James Carter had fully recovered. He had figured it out: the woman from his past life belonged to that world, and there was no need to bring those attachments into this one.

After the soldiers finished, the girl turned back to James Carter and said, “Because of the orcs, every year refugees flee to Wildfire City for shelter. Many of these homeless people freeze to death. It’s very hard to prevent. With the threat of the orcs, the city hall can’t spare more people to handle these matters—after all, the safety of Wildfire City must come first.”

Her words sounded like an explanation to James Carter, but as the city lord’s only daughter, Molly had no need to do so. In fact, she herself didn’t know why she said it—she just didn’t want this young man, with his clear, dark eyes, to develop a bad impression of Wildfire City.

Realizing her own loss of composure, Molly quickly changed the subject: “Can you tell me what you do in the city, Su?”

“Me? Oh, I’m the night watchman at the cemetery outside the city. I’m just on my way to the temple to collect this month’s rune stone.” James Carter answered frankly, not at all humbled by his current position, as if it were just an ordinary conversation.

A pure, radiant smile appeared on Molly’s face. A night watchman, yet with such striking poise and bearing—he truly was special.

“I’m heading to the temple as well. Let me give you a ride,” Molly offered.

“Thank you, then.” James Carter climbed onto the carriage without hesitation, ignoring the unfriendly look from the coachman, and plopped down right beside him.

He had no illusions about entering the carriage itself. If he were so tactless as to sit inside, Molly might not say anything, but the coachman would probably eat him alive.

As if to vent his displeasure, the coachman didn’t wait for James Carter to settle in before shouting, “Miss, please sit tight!” and cracking his whip hard. The startled horses surged forward, pulling the carriage rapidly ahead.

But James Carter didn’t react as the coachman hoped—there was no panic on his face. Instead, he lounged lazily on the seat, looking completely at ease.

Chapter 7: The Temple Priest