Endurance

Amidst merchants and commoners scrambling for supplies, even as rumors of the plague lingered, the entire Imperial City of Nat presented a bittersweet spectacle of bustling activity.

Rumors swirled that merchants planned to export manure piles overseas to fertilize their estates abroad. Nearby freemen mostly adopted a wait-and-see attitude, but some well-connected and astute estate owners suddenly became advocates for compost irrigation after meeting with Johnson and his friends.

While freemen struggled under the Temple's criticism and the relentless propaganda of every worship service, estate owners outside were already frantically hauling irrigation fertilizer. This surge in activity made Imperial City bustle with even greater energy, radiating vitality long before midsummer arrived. Word spread that on the emperor's lands, everyone had received orders to adopt compost irrigation. Even more astonishingly—on the Black Duke's domains, it was said every soul now enjoyed fragrant, pure bread free of impurities!

All thanks to that pile of filthy manure!

This time, the landowners had come forward because they'd heard of a crop called the potato, which had yielded unprecedented harvests on the Black Duke's lands. It was said that last winter, not a single soul starved to death in all of York!

This statistic held immense allure for ordinary folk, let alone the manorial lords. Having unknowingly tasted mashed potatoes and French fries like Johnson, they instantly recognized the terrifying profits behind this crop upon hearing its yield.

There is a classic line in Capital that perfectly captures the nature of merchants and capitalists: "With a 10% profit, it will be employed everywhere; with 20%, it becomes active; At 50%, it becomes reckless; at 100%, it dares to trample all human laws; at 300%, it commits any crime, even facing the gallows."

The common folk, perhaps limited by their horizons, may not yet grasp the full implications behind this. But the middle class instantly sensed the immense future it held—not only as a gesture of goodwill toward Her Majesty Josephine, the ruler eager for reform, but also as a means to secure enormous personal gain.

The methods and seeds for growing these potatoes remained firmly in the Black Duke's hands. While their widespread adoption was inevitable, those who led the charge stood to gain far more than mere trifles.

Thus, while the Duke of March was still puffing away in the Chapel of St. John, mocking the reforms, the merchants who had caught wind of the opportunity had already turned this into a textbook marketing case study.

This endeavor not only earned Alexander considerable favor with Her Majesty but also secured Mr. Johnson and his associates an invitation to a royal banquet.

A banquet within the palace walls was an event beyond the wildest dreams of ordinary folk. Crossing the moat and passing through the castle's first gate was an honor unimaginable to many descendants of fallen nobility.

Johnson and his companions could scarcely have imagined such a scene even in their wildest dreams. Yet this time, having executed their task flawlessly, the most distinguished among them received invitations to pass through those gates.

The jesters arranged by the Duke of March still entertained the conservative nobles at the banquet, spinning tales of blasphemers and their feces-eating habits, while they reveled in the eastern castle, flirting with elegant noblewomen fanning themselves with feathered fans, guzzling the finest wines, and denouncing "those godless heretics." Yet on the other side, the new nobility had already stepped onto the stage of history. Only now, each of them trembled with trepidation, many believing this was a once-in-a-lifetime honor.

Even Tang Feiliu, now within the palace walls, hadn't anticipated this. For him, it was merely a mission—an earnest attempt to halt the plague, to bring something meaningful to this timeline.

The outcome would reveal that his efforts might yield far more than his ordinary mind could ever conceive.

Just as when he funded Doctor Charlemagne, Tang Feiliu never imagined that a single act of kindness would become the cornerstone for saving millions today; And today, he merely sought to bring a beautiful, clean imperial city. Thus, Empress Josephine, the Lioness of Nîmes—who should have spent a lifetime of arduous reform to build her glorious legacy—suddenly leaped over a decade of difficult negotiations. In this single year, she witnessed a future where her people were clothed and fed without worry.

The old aristocracy and the Templars had anticipated another decade of comfortable days, engaging in wits and strength with Her Majesty Josephine, maintaining a delicate balance through mutual checks and balances.

Yet Edward had quietly built up a York faction rich in capital and strong in military might. With him backing her, Josephine and Edward had never revealed to Tang Feiliu that the seemingly simple task she’d given him was actually a chain of interconnected steps. If any link faltered, it could mean years of unavoidable political compromises and balancing acts.

Yet Tang Feiliu, in his simple-mindedness, possessed a certain naive fortune. He focused solely on doing his job well, utterly oblivious to the hidden meanings. Alexander was much the same—he saw further than Tang Feiliu, but he could only perceive it as their hope for advancement. He never imagined that it represented not just their hopes, but in the annals of history to come, this very ball would symbolize the transition of power between old and new forces. It represented... The merchant class and the rising middle class would emerge as forces capable of challenging—and ultimately supplanting—the old aristocracy.

This was the rumbling of the era's carriage rolling by. Some among them might grasp its meaning, others might not. The shrewd individuals mingling within this crowd would later become legendary figures, commanding the winds and clouds. Those who failed to understand, happily gazing about now, would spend the rest of their lives ready to boast to anyone—each had their own fortune and destiny.

Tang Feiliu was also attending this ball. He had originally intended to wear the suit he brought from York, but unexpectedly, Edward placed extraordinary importance on this occasion. He had even secretly arranged for the finest tailors in the palace to prepare a new outfit long before.

An all-white suit.

Tang Feiliu had matured considerably since then, growing taller and shedding some of his youthful appearance. He now possessed a more refined, gentle demeanor—long limbs, a faintly tender yet sunny aura, and significantly longer blond hair. and Edward was utterly captivated by it. Though he never interfered, once it grew long, Edward would constantly run his fingers through those golden strands. Tang Feiliu felt Edward was already acting like a complete fanboy, so he always cut his hair short during summer. This time, due to the chaos of the cholera outbreak, his hair had grown long enough to tie back.

The white suit was made of satin fabric, its buttons simple gold-based with sapphire inlays. In Tang Feiliu's eyes, it was the kind of outfit that could make anyone look greasy and dim-witted if worn poorly—utterly unfriendly to humans.

Yet the suit was undeniably beautiful—the kind that made one feel unworthy, a sense of shame at not being worthy of such finery.

Yet when Tang Feiliu slipped it on and stepped before the full-length mirror, he ignored Edward outside and found himself utterly transfixed by his own reflection.

The reflection showed a youth with tousled blond hair, barefoot on the carpet in the satin-smooth white suit. The impeccable tailoring elongated his legs, making them appear long and straight. The sapphire buttons contrasted sharply with his startled blue eyes, creating an image both restrained and strikingly provocative... Tang Feiliu realized that if he weren't a pure bottom, he might have lost all restraint staring at that reflection today.

"Lance, are you okay..." Edward pushed open the dressing room door, but his words trailed off mid-sentence.

Tang Feiliu caught the eager look on his face and, forgetting to admire himself, hurriedly exclaimed, "Come on, come on! We're going to be late. This is the one! Let's go!"

Edward's Adam's apple bobbed as Tang tugged him several times before he finally let himself be pulled out the door.

Only after boarding the carriage did Tang Feiliu notice his sapphire bowtie was askew. He bent his head to adjust it, then glanced at the enormous gold-edged sapphire collar and sighed inwardly... It's just a dinner party—does it really need to be this extravagant?!

Edward looked up at himself, clad in his ever-present all-black ensemble, radiating sharpness, strength, and an overwhelming presence.

Tang Feiliu grinned, thinking to himself, This handsome guy with hormones flying everywhere is mine, all mine!

The next moment, worry crept back in. She couldn't help but ask indirectly—were there any women at the banquet? Were they beautiful?

After a few sentences, an important thought suddenly struck him, and Tang Feiliu grew tense—noble gatherings were surely different from those of country gentry. Rumor had it that high-ranking noblewomen used fan signals. If she smiled charmingly while waving her fan to flirt with you, the rhythm of her fan might actually be cursing you to get lost, you idiot.

The upper classes were just that complicated. Rumor had it that not only did noblewomen use fan language to signal secrets, but gentlemen also shared simple codes and etiquette among themselves.

Tang Feiliu gripped Edward's arm nervously, voicing his concerns. Edward, who had been stiff-faced throughout the noble ladies' introductions in the hall, finally relaxed upon hearing these worries. He took Tang Feiliu's hand and smiled reassuringly, "Don't worry. I guarantee they wouldn't dare use such gestures in front of you."

Tang Feiliu was about to speak again when Edward gestured for him to look at his hand. He whispered, "If anyone says something you don't understand, show them the ring on your finger."

Tang Feiliu stared at the Black Duke's signet ring on her finger: ...No wonder Edward had specifically made her wear this thing before leaving. Was it to prevent her from being humiliated at the banquet?

Fireworks exploded in his mind. Tang Feiliu basked in the joy for a moment before remembering the earlier incident. His voice faltered as he stammered, "So... at the banquet, will you dance with those girls?"

Though Tang Feiliu had crammed dance lessons, he didn't know if such gatherings had specific etiquette. He thought he'd concealed his thoughts well, but his eyes betrayed him without a shred of restraint.

Edward observed Tang Feiliu's "just asking" expression and the obvious concern etched on his face. A smile touched his lips, but he didn't tease him. Instead, he replied earnestly, "Yes."

Seeing the little angel's blue eyes narrow in surprise, he quickly added, "With Her Majesty Josephine."

The opening dance must be led by the most distinguished guest present or the host of the banquet—both titles belonging to Josephine. Moreover, this evening served as an occasion for Her Majesty Josephine to extend goodwill, making it essential for her to showcase her grace. Edward, accustomed to partnering with his Aunt Josephine, was certain he’d be called upon once more tonight to serve as Her Majesty’s dance partner.

"...Oh." Tang Feiliu exhaled in relief, but Edward's gaze made her heart race. She hastily added, trying desperately to cover her tracks, "I was just asking."

"Mhm. I know." Edward watched his blue eyes darting around the room, took in his waist and long legs, accentuated by the tailored suit, and closed his eyes in silent endurance.

He found himself once again wishing the evening's ball would end quickly.

Tang Feiliu, relieved that Edward’s response meant his petty thoughts hadn’t been noticed, beamed with satisfaction. He silently praised himself, completely unaware why the duke beside him had closed his eyes in restraint.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Tangyuan Nuonuo and SEVEN for the support.

It's freezing today—only my righteous spirit can keep me warm.