Athens, in a bustling corner of the market.
If he could, Ino would have liked to ask those around him, "Is everyone here just idling their days away?"
But some things can only be tacitly understood.
Compared to making fun of the situation, he first had to find a way to resolve the current awkwardness. Stopping a story halfway always requires some explanation.
He looked around, noticing all kinds of expressions: curiosity, appreciation, contemplation…
At the same time, Ino felt a tug at his sleeve. Helena's small hand was clutching his clothes, and she was looking around the crowd with her large, violet eyes, timidly.
Yet, this small, inadvertent action strengthened his resolve.
Once upon a time, when he followed Master Hans, he had never had any worries or fears. If Helena had to live in constant anxiety following him, it would be better to sell olive branches.
With that in mind, he decided not to offer any further explanation. After a slight bow, he calmly sat back on his small stool.
The melodious sound of his thirty-six string Irish harp resumed. But unlike before, there was now a faint undercurrent of resilience in the music.
Ino gently stroked Helena's short hair and began to speak softly:
"…The fox told the little prince that life is a process of constantly meeting and parting, through which one learns what love is and understands its meaning. If you want to form bonds with others, you must bear the risk of shedding tears…"
The story flowed smoothly with the music.
The tale of *The Little Prince* is not long. It took just over an hour to tell the whole story.
At the end, Ino used a montage technique to conclude:
The little prince was bitten by a venomous snake. However, when he opened his eyes again, he was back in his own castle, the small castle where he could see 44 sunsets in a day.
He heard the rose's proud and noisy voice by his ear and understood that he had only taken a nap and had a very long dream...
As the last note of the harp dissipated into the air, a crisp clap broke the silence.
Ino looked toward the sound and saw the only person clapping, a handsome young man with golden hair standing on the left side of the crowd.
The young man continued to clap as he pulled a Dalik gold coin from his pocket and slowly walked forward.
A magical scene unfolded. As the young man moved, many of the onlookers voluntarily dispersed.
Only the girl in white linen remained.
"A very romantic story!" The young man tossed the gold coin onto the spread-out piece of tattered burlap.
"I prefer the ending over the content of the story. It's best not to act when you don't understand love. Wait until you learn how to love someone before waking from the dream, to avoid all tragedies…"
The young man's voice was like a gentle stream or a breeze, its mellifluous tone akin to a massage for the ears.
Ino noticed the young man's eyes often wandered to the harp as he spoke. Given his golden hair, Ino could roughly guess his identity.
Nonetheless, a bard's fundamental etiquette couldn't be neglected. In response to the tip, he stood and bowed slightly, thanking softly:
"Thank you for your recognition and generosity. Singing beautiful stories is my job."
Then, Ino bent down to pick up the gold coin. The coin on the burlap didn't look like the traditional Greek drachma; it seemed more like a coin minted in Persia.
But just as he was about to pick up the coin, two more hands appeared on the square burlap—one fair and slender, like an ivory sculpture, and the other a small, tender hand.
The two hands met, paused briefly, and then the fair and slender fingers picked up the coin.
"I am the law enforcement officer here. Consider this gold coin your entry fee. You won't be charged for anything else, whether you stay overnight in the city or anything else."
The girl in white linen said with a light chuckle, her soft voice carrying a hint of mischief.
The young man watched the coin being taken but didn't seem annoyed. Instead, he spoke with interest:
"If you have more good stories or if you want to earn money or need any help, you can come to me directly! You should know where to find me."
…
Someone once said that bustling scenes are always accompanied by solitude.
In fact, this statement was true. As the surrounding people dispersed, the corner of the market returned to its previous solitude.
"They're all bad people! They took our things!" Helena pouted, speaking angrily.
Seeing his apprentice's indignant expression, Ino could only smile wryly and comfort her:
"Let it go! We can't afford to offend them. It's just a gold coin; if they want to take it, let them."
To be honest, today's events were somewhat unexpected. He didn't think *The Little Prince* would be so well-received, nor did he expect anyone to dare to take Apollo's things.
But basking in the warm breeze of the Aegean Sea, he roughly guessed the girl's identity.
Claiming to be the law enforcement officer of Athens, the answer was already clear. Never mind Apollo; this goddess dared to take things from even Zeus.
"What will we do in the future?" Helena, having packed up their things, stood obediently by his side, holding two small stools.
"The future?" Hearing this fateful question, Ino couldn't immediately find an answer.
Of all the questions, those about the future are the hardest to answer. Questions like "What will we do in the future?" or "What will we become?" are more difficult than any profound magic.
After a brief moment of thought, he vaguely had an answer in his heart. But now that he had Helena with him, many things couldn't be as impulsive as they were before.
"The future will take care of itself. For now, let's go to the market and buy some supplies. I'll teach you another skill."
…
Before dusk, Ino returned to the valley with Helena.
Compared to their departure in the morning, they came back with many more belongings: various jars and utensils, bags of flour, and even several wooden molds.
Compared to the wandering life of a bard, he thought of a craft more suitable for a girl's survival—baking bread.
Or rather, making exquisite pastries.
Given the dietary habits of this era, pastries from another world would undoubtedly become a skill she could rely on.
Even if he were to leave, Helena could live stably with this skill. Whether opening a bakery in Athens or making goods in the valley to sell at the market, she would no longer have to worry about going hungry.
Hunger is a simple word, but for children without support, it's the most fatal threat.
They can wear tattered clothes, be disheveled, and play with discarded toys, but going hungry... when there's no food, they can only starve.
"Helena! Come here, today your teacher will teach you another skill."
Ino spoke as he opened the bag of flour. Countless coarse yellow grains poured into a prepared container.