The person with a severe illness miraculously recovered, and all the villagers were extremely excited; the chatter never stopped, not even the stretcher they carried could halt their discussions.
Hibi Village, this was the place name that Araki asked about, and he smoothly achieved his wish; he hadn't even requested lodging yet, he merely mentioned that his friend was injured, and Jubee and the woman who earlier thanked him enthusiastically invited him to stay overnight in the village.
Araki didn't make any polite refusals, and quickly followed these villagers. Several dozen people carried torches, held bamboo spears, and used a stretcher to carry Jiulang and Meng Ziqi, proceeding down the mountain and walking three or four more miles until they arrived at a riverside.
The river's name was Odaigawa, and the group walked alongside the river for a while, crossing a simple wooden bridge to reach Hibi Village. The village outskirts were fenced with thick wooden stakes, offering simple defense, but it was hard to discern the village's size; it was too dark, and the torch light had limited range.
Once they entered the village, the number of people increased; there were quite a few women and children coming out to watch the commotion. Discovering Jiulang was carried back again, they were very surprised, whispering amongst themselves. Yet, nobody dared to bump into Araki, the "nobleman" with the luxurious attire — he stood out distinctly, his coat made of waterproof and dustproof material, glimmering in the torchlight, it appeared extremely expensive.
Araki silently observed his surroundings, his mood becoming heavy once again.
The village before him consisted entirely of dull, large thatched huts. With his limited knowledge of Japanese history, these were ground-level column-style thatched structures, ancient residences that no longer have physical existence in modern Japan, merely recorded in text. Now, even the last shred of hopeful doubt could be discarded — he had indeed traveled through time.
Uncertain if he could return to the modern era, and his foolish son had been unconscious nearly the entire day, could not be woken up, apparently having seriously injured his head — without modern medical treatment, then...
His mood heavy, he was guided by Jubee and others to a small fenced courtyard, invited into a thatched hut where they lit an oil lamp, helped him settle Meng Ziqi, and then respectfully withdrew, seemingly hesitant to linger around this distinguished guest, appearing worried about inciting his displeasure.
Araki, indifferent to the situation, gave his friend a little water; noticing he could swallow but was still unconscious, his headache worsened.
He didn't know what to do; now he could only hope his good friend merely suffered a severe concussion and just needed a good night's sleep to recover. But what if there was another issue, like intracranial bleeding pressing on the brain, turning him into a vegetative state? Araki truly didn't know what to do then.
With ancient medical conditions, this kind of illness couldn't be treated, right?
He sat with his friend for a while, shook his head, and turned to look at this Japan Middle Ages dwelling.
The door... no door, the "house gate" was a heavy curtain made of woven straw; lifting the curtain allowed entrance. The layout probably divided into two rooms.
Upon entering, the first room had an earthen floor; toward the inside was a stone-surrounded hearth with a clay pot hanging above it, and next to it was a mud-formed stove connected to the hearth. According to the restoration descriptions of ground-level column-style thatched houses he had seen in museums, this was the "doma," serving as both kitchen and storage for tools, grains, and various sundries, where livestock and poultry may also be temporarily kept during harsh weather.
The other room was the "doma" for guests and sleeping, where he was currently sitting.
Here, the floor was elevated with gravel to prevent moisture — using stone slabs would be better, but the impoverished villagers likely lacked time or effort for stone chiseling, so they made do with gravel — then covered it with a layer of rice husk bran to prevent foot discomfort, and over the rice husk bran laid a smooth mat woven from straw.
Araki reached out to test it, feeling it fairly soft — a sort of poor man's version of tatami.
The Japanese-specific term "dogeza" likely originated from "doma" and "doma."
A person of high status sits on the elevated doma, while those with lower status must kneel on the earthen "doma," later extending to meanings involving apologizing or expressing sincere regret.
After inspecting the doma, Araki turned to look at the "main pillars" found in both the doma and doma.
This type of dwelling was called "ground-level column-style thatched structure" due to these two rows of "main pillars." A pillar's one end supported the beam, the other buried in the ground, hence the name column-style; but the name wasn't important, the primary aspect was the distance between the pillars.
The distance between pillars in Japan was termed as "ken," a unit of length that varied through different eras. Based on museum data, this helped him deduce his current period — Kamakura Shogunate's ken was roughly eight shaku, Muromachi Shogunate's ken about seven shaku two sun, Edo Shogunate era's ken roughly six shaku six sun.
Here, "shaku" referred to the "Goguryeo shaku," approximately equivalent to 0.269 meters in modern terms, a measuring unit unique to Japan Middle Ages.
Araki estimated the distance between two pillars at approximately 1.9 meters plus a little; that meant seven shaku two sun, so... he had traveled to the Muromachi Era carrying his foolish son?
If only he could directly ask someone, wouldn't that be nice? But directly asking these villagers about the current era—isn't that somewhat foolish?
Suddenly crossing through time placed significant psychological pressure on Araki, with numerous doubts that he wished to ask, yet unsure of how to inquire or who to approach with his queries. In the midst of chaotic thoughts, the straw curtain was lifted, and the middle-aged woman who previously thanked him, Jiulang's wife, Ahei, entered accompanied by a little girl holding a wooden tray, bowing respectfully, "Apologies, sir, for keeping you waiting."