Nandeng Village

"Have you heard?"

That day in the village, the women were all whispering about this topic. Lily, sewing a little hat to match her daughter's dress, glanced around knowingly before murmuring to her good friend Koukou, "That thing, right? I heard."

"They say it was young Mr. Lance who proposed it to His Grace the Duke!" Koukou murmured. "God bless the kind-hearted young Mr. Lance."

"Koko," Lily frowned disapprovingly and whispered to her friend, "What are you saying?"

To invoke God's blessing within the confines of Black Swan Castle—wasn't that sheer folly?

Coco stuck out her tongue sheepishly. "Look at me, being foolish. But if you ask me, young Master Lance might truly be a holy son and an angel. But that bunch inside the temple... Hmph..."

Her voice trailed off into a cold snort.

Lily nodded in agreement, murmuring softly, "They say the people in the church district have suffered more and more these past years. The temple's taxes there are three times higher than ours. Last year, while we were warm and cozy, many starved to death over there..."

Sympathy for fellow creatures in distress, the mention of the nearby church district dampened Lily's cheer. Koukou quickly interjected, "Enough of that sad talk. We can't control what happens over there, but this time... both of your Stuart brothers were right there. What are you planning to do?"

At this point, Lily sighed softly. "...Julie came looking for me last night. Tut's been troubled too."

They were discussing the matter of slaves gaining freedom. Unlike Tang Feiliu's initial simplistic idea, Edward had deliberated and convened York and the Black Swan Castle administrators to formulate a comprehensive process: setting a high production quota, with any surplus beyond that quota becoming the slave's personal property. Accumulated personal property could then be used to purchase their freedom.

When this method was first proposed, everyone felt both joy and worry. It was a blessing from heaven, but the worry stemmed from the fact that the yield estimates were set higher than in previous years. Although the crops had grown exceptionally well this year, no one could be certain just how much the increase would actually be.

Thus, families like the Stewarts, blessed with capable brothers, rushed to seek assistance. Slave marriages were not freely chosen. Though Edward, the lord, was exceptionally benevolent and permitted free marriages, parents of freemen's children rarely consented to unions with slaves. While the young couple themselves might be unaffected, but their children would become slaves. Only a fool would agree to that.

But now it was different. This was a tremendous opportunity. Who knew whether the Duke had merely been swayed by Mr. Lance for the moment, or intended to persist indefinitely? If this chance proved fleeting, wouldn't everyone regret it for the rest of their lives if they didn't seize it now?

Thus, both of Stewart's brothers arrived with their children. The women wept, begging them to help for the sake of their offspring. Stewart had grown up alongside these brothers, who weren't inherently wicked men—merely inept at managing their wealth. When Stewart had once advised them, they'd guzzled ale and mocked his stinginess. Now, with frost-white hair at their temples, they wept before Stuart, sniveling and tearfully denouncing their own arrogance and foolishness back then... Any person with even a shred of compassion would be moved by such heartbreak in a stranger, let alone their own flesh and blood.

Moreover, these two brothers of Stewart's had clearly suffered greatly over the years—no matter how much they earned, none of it was theirs to keep. They were treated worse than mules, forced to work as others commanded. Things had been somewhat better during Edward's time, but during the reign of the old duke and his eldest son, it was the families with marriageable daughters among the villagers who wept rivers of tears. Who knew how many had been abused by the old duke and his heir? The slave children had no time for play either, forced to work the fields from a young age. Lily looked at her young nephews, about Lance's age, already emaciated, small, and timid. When Lily offered them bread, the children's terrified expressions were heartbreaking to witness.

Lily knew deep down that her Tut could never bear to see his own brothers suffer like this. In past years, there was nothing they could do but secretly slip them some black bread. She had told Lance that if he ever encountered his cousins, he should look out for them. Beyond that, they were powerless—not just financially, but bound by the rules.

For according to the rules, even though they were blood brothers, once one became a slave, he belonged entirely to his master. Even if a brother gave him food or wealth, it all belonged to the master. Some who were caught were even whipped.

Thus, beyond occasionally slipping them food in secluded spots for them to devour quickly, they had to pretend no connection existed. This was especially true during the reign of their former master, Edward—a far from merciful gentleman who had terrified everyone.

But who could bear to see their own blood relatives endure such hardship? After Edward deliberately spread this news, the atmosphere in the village shifted instantly.

Not only did the once-dutiful slaves go wild, practically living on their assigned plots, but even the slave children ran about daily, clearing the nearby brush and firewood clean.

The slave women worked alongside their men daily, carrying water to tend the potato rows. After Tang Feiliu leased Edward's oxen, the village carpenters worked tirelessly until each beast was harnessed to a crude cart. and all day long, people could be seen traveling back and forth on the cement road to collect manure from Yorkla. The entire village was silent, everyone seething with determination, wishing the harvest season would come quickly. The village had been home to these people for generations; they were all related in some way. Which family didn't have a few relatives who had fallen on hard times?

Everyone whispered about the harvest season. Stewart hadn't made any promises, but Lily had already quietly begun cutting fabric for her nieces and nephews, planning to make each of them a new outfit like the other village children wore. She knew what her husband would ultimately choose. Though it meant a sacrifice for their small family, Lily didn't feel burdened. She trusted Stewart would make the right arrangements.

While everyone here was immersed in these thoughts, Tang Feiliu encountered Alan once more.

Alan had specifically come to the castle to find Tang Feiliu.

Tang Feiliu was a homebody. Even in modern times, friends would bring ingredients over for meals; he rarely sought others out. In this era, without Jess dragging him out daily, he happily stayed home. Now that Alan had come knocking, he wondered if he’d become too reclusive. In this picturesque European countryside, free from smog, how much spring beauty had he missed because of his busyness?

Alan’s visit, however, came with a request.

"You want me to introduce you to Mr. Ross?" Tang Feiliu was genuinely taken aback by this plan. He asked in surprise, "Mr. Ross has been supplying goods here recently. He's even in York inspecting the city's businesses. How could you not have met him?"

Mr. Allen gave a wry smile. "Lance, you wouldn't believe it, but this Mr. Ross is a big shot now. I sent my butler to invite him several times, but he hasn't responded to any of my invitations."

"Is that so?" Tang Feiliu was stunned. After chatting with Alan for a while, he finally grasped the situation—Ross had started using an improved version of cement, but it hadn't caused much of a stir at first. People subconsciously assumed cheaper cement meant lower quality. However, after Tang Feiliu built the road connecting York and Black Swan Castle, everyone suddenly recognized the cement's true value.

So Ross rented a shopfront in York City. Taking advantage of the vastly simplified road transport, he shipped large quantities of cement there, even taking orders locally. People would then bring the orders to the cement factory to collect their goods.

It must be said that Ross possessed a keen business acumen. His approach kept the cement factory operating around the clock. It was said that both men and women there worked frantically around the entire facility, driving themselves nearly mad, which attracted many merchants seeking business opportunities.

Tang Feiliu was instantly thrilled. It was like someone delivering a pillow just when he needed one. While Black Swan Castle enjoyed unique natural advantages, he had planned its agricultural land in distant areas. The village and vast plains beneath the castle remained largely vacant—all for one purpose: finding a way to attract a large population. He hadn't yet decided what kind of factory to build, but now Alan had brought him this brilliant idea.

"But what exactly do you need cement for?" Tang Feiliu's heart leapt, yet he restrained himself, first inquiring about Alan's plans. After a moment's thought, Alan replied, "Honestly, I've observed the wheat growing conditions here—they're far superior to ours back home... Little Lance, you have no idea how many people around here are envious of the Duke's estate!"

Alan chuckled. Through his explanation, Tang Feiliu finally grasped the situation: his recent endeavors had stirred envy in many, yet unlike Alan—who shared a personal connection with Tang Feiliu—most lacked the means to act on their desire. Thus, they had chosen Alan as their representative to negotiate this venture with Tang Feiliu.

It turned out everyone was deeply tempted by the manure's power. While Black Swan and York had a paved road, their own estates lacked such infrastructure. Some landowners sent slaves to transport manure, but the journey was not only time-consuming but also treacherous over rugged mountain paths, and spillage was highly likely. The costs far outweighed the benefits. Thus, after deliberation, they decided to pursue future profits—and to address the envy expressed by the young ladies during the spring social season. Those ladies had complained countless times about muddy paths soiling their dresses.

Men, after all, cherished their wives and daughters. When the ladies visited York, disembarking to stroll along that paved path, hearing their own wives and daughters repeatedly marvel at its cleanliness, discuss the immaculate concrete courtyard of the castle, and the meticulously tended gardens... After hearing this often enough, the men, observing the growth of their own wheat fields, could no longer sit idly by.

According to Alan, this was a major project with significant benefits for the estate. Tang Feiliu naturally welcomed it wholeheartedly—it was what everyone desired. Alan then mentioned a personal request, speaking softly: "Young Lance, could you teach me how to improve the estate's drainage and sanitation?"

It turned out that Alan, having spent years at sea, had always held the Templar ways in contempt. Each time he met Tang Feiliu, he noticed how immaculately clean and dust-free he appeared—making even the stunningly beautiful Rogers Pal look like a country bumpkin. That in itself wasn't unusual, but Rogers had been running a low-grade fever for some time now, with symptoms coming and going. reminding him of Tang Feiliu's casual remarks. Rogers' condition clearly stemmed from weakened immunity, and fearing it might worsen, Alan rushed over to make this special request.

Saving a life is better than building seven tiers of a pagoda. Moreover, Tang Feiliu had just finished his fieldwork and was coming in from the fields. The timing was perfect. He could conveniently use this opportunity to refurbish the estate Edward had promised him for their vacation.

While the castle was comfortable, the bright glass windows and sun-drenched balconies... honestly, in terms of livability, they held a clear advantage over the castle.

There was an even more crucial reason: the area where Alan lived was a relatively close-knit community of local gentry. After all, they all resided on the same few hillsides, making it a fairly affluent region. Based on the price Alan had just quoted, Tang Feiliu could make a small profit. Moreover, he could promote the importance of manure composting and sanitation. By first establishing this practice among the wealthy class, the common folk below would naturally follow suit.

No matter how he looked at it, this seemed like a splendid opportunity. Tang Feiliu readily agreed. That very night, after hastily finishing his milk, he shared the news with Edward.

Edward looked at him, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Tang Feiliu instantly sensed the duke seemed slightly irritated. He quickly added, "Your Grace, I'll make sure to commute back and forth punctually every day."

"But that would be too taxing for you," Edward said, visibly concerned. Yet Tang Feiliu was determined not to give up. After a moment's thought, Edward remarked, "Perhaps I should take a break myself."

Tang Feiliu was bewildered.

Edward chuckled softly. "I promised to take you to that estate to see the spring scenery. Now is the perfect time. I'll move my official duties there as well."

Tang Feiliu felt a surge of warmth, but immediately grew anxious. "…Is it really okay for you to leave?"

Edward smiled. "The knights have their captain's training. There's no conflict at the moment. It'll be fine."

Tang Feiliu relaxed considerably, letting out a cheer as she jumped up and threw her arms around Edward.

Edward stiffened slightly. Tang Feiliu deliberately brushed against his neck, feeling his entire body grow tense as his breathing deepened.

Yet in the end, Edward pushed Tang Feiliu back under the covers. She was overjoyed, yet also a little disappointed—what exactly was going on here? They'd kissed and hugged, and her mind was racing with thoughts, but why hadn't Edward made any other moves?