Final Lord

Chapter 281 The Reclamation Competition

Ten thousand treehouses sprang up like mushrooms after rain. They were not ordinary buildings, but magical treehouses with added natural wood.

Every rafter in the treehouse exudes a subtle fragrance reminiscent of golden nanmu wood, with glistening amber resin seeping from its cross-section, refracting a warm halo in the sunlight.

As soon as the swamp's mosquitoes and flies approached, they were overwhelmed by the sweet fragrance of the resin and fell to the ground. These treehouses were not inanimate objects, but rather undulated slightly like living things. The curtains woven from silver vines moved without wind, the fluorescent ferns entwined on the window frames unfurled their leaves as the residents approached, and even the floor was covered with a soft carpet of mycelium that could automatically adjust its temperature according to the body temperature of the inhabitants.

A daring child opened the window and peered inside, discovering that the inner wall had leaf veins that secreted clear water, and that there was a shrub in the corner that was constantly bearing berries.

Another aspect of the wonders of nature emerges. Under the combined influence of the four natural wonders—the Spring of Life, the Spring of Miracles, the King of White Spirit Trees, and the King of Strange Mushrooms—even the most ordinary buildings acquire some magical functions.

“A miracle! This is a miracle!” Old Henry knelt down, his withered fingers tracing the outer wall of the treehouse. The wood grain seemed to glow slightly under his touch, as if responding to his devotion.

The cheers of the crowd were like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing down, and fifty thousand pairs of eyes reflected this emerald-colored miracle. Some people kowtowed wildly, their foreheads pressed against the damp black soil; some wept with joy, holding their babies high above their heads; and some even rushed directly towards the treehouses, only to be gently bounced back by the flexible barrier that the resin formed automatically. These dwellings seemed to possess a kind of spirituality, accepting only those who were deemed worthy of their occupants.

On the high platform, Wang Bufu's cloak fluttered. He raised his hand to suppress the boiling clamor, his voice as cold and hard as iron, yet exuding an undeniable majesty:
"Listen carefully! There are currently only ten thousand dwellings."

The crowd fell silent instantly, countless faces looking up at him, their eyes filled with a mixture of longing and trepidation.

"They will be given as a reward—" Wang Bufu's fingertips traced across the entire wetland, finally stopping on the uncultivated humus in the north, "to the ten thousand families who performed best in the reclamation competition."

Next, you will compete in a land reclamation race as families, clearing land from the swamp.

The minimum requirement is to cultivate five acres of land within a week; there is no upper limit. The first 10,000 families to cultivate more than five acres will receive a treehouse.

His words were like a boulder thrown into still water, creating ripples. The young farmers immediately gripped their shovels tightly, the women handed their children to the elderly, and even the lame old soldier struggled to his feet.

Everyone understands that this is not just a battle for housing, but also a ticket to a new life.

"The competition begins now! I've prepared the tools for you; they're to the east. Find the caveman to collect them, and register as a family unit."

Wang Bufu's voice, amplified by the fire, echoed in every corner: "The family that cultivates the most acres will not only receive a treehouse, but will also be given priority in allocating ten acres of fertile land near the Spirit Spring!"
Families who cultivate more than ten acres and rank among the top 10,000 will receive an additional five acres of cultivated land on top of the treehouse they receive!

Wang Bufu's last words ignited his fighting spirit.

The crowd surged toward the tool pile like a tide, and the oppression and suffering of shackles and collars transformed into the vitality of breaking through the soil.

A tall, thin young man stood frozen in place, watching the scene unfold. His rough fingers gripped the hem of his clothes tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. His gaze was fixed on the competitors, who were all there with their families, eager to compete—a middle-aged couple wielding shovels, an elderly man with white hair leading a child carrying a water bag, and even a teenager holding a rope used to tie up vines.

“How can this compare to…” He let out a suppressed growl, suddenly pushing through the crowd and charging towards the platform. His knees slammed heavily into the damp, black earth, splashing mud that stained the tips of Wang Bufu’s boots. “My lord!” He looked up, veins bulging in his neck, “Are we bachelors destined to sleep in mud pits? Those families can have five hands working together, while we can’t even swing a hoe as hard as them!”

Wang Bufu lowered his eyes to sized up the impetuous young man. His sunburned shoulder blades were visible beneath his tattered hemp clothing, but a wildfire of survival instinct burned in his eyes.

The lord suddenly chuckled softly, his fingertips brushing across the back of the crowd—where dozens of equally anxious single women were huddled together, including shepherdesses with freckles from the sun and charming fisherwomen…

"What's the rush?" Wang Bufu's voice carried a seductive sarcasm. "See those girls? They're also looking for 'family' to reclaim the land with. You have plenty of time to start a family before you sign up."

There are many of them, but you are young.

The young man's pupils suddenly contracted. He even stumbled as he turned, his gaze like that of a hawk locked onto a girl stamping her feet and peering out from the edge of the crowd. Her thick arms could have wielded a woodcutter's axe, and although her skirt was covered in mud, it couldn't hide the lines of her muscular calves.

The boy was deeply impressed by her. Although she was not good-looking, she always silently helped the old people carry their luggage during the migration.

"Make way! Make way!" He pushed through the crowd like a charging warrior, and knelt on one knee in the girl's astonished gaze. His muddy hands magically produced a freshly picked lily of the marsh and tremblingly pinned it to the hem of her torn clothes.

"I am Arno from the blacksmith's family!" he roared, his voice echoing across the entire wetland. "When I saw you distributing wild berries to the little ones on the way here, I thought to myself—if this girl were my wife, she could surely cultivate the most fertile field in the entire territory!"
I love you. Will you be my wife?

"Wow!!" the crowd shouted, applause, and cheers erupted.

The girl's ear tips instantly turned as red as berries. She grabbed Arno's wrist with such force that he grimaced.

"What are you dawdling for!" She grabbed Arno and dashed toward the pile of tools, the water droplets from her braids glistening like gold dust in the setting sun. "Go get the hoes now, we can still clear half an acre before dark!"

This sudden marriage proposal was like a torch thrown into a haystack.

The lame old soldier lunged at the one-eyed washerwoman, the boy tremblingly stuffed wildflowers into the freckled milkmaid's hands, and even the white-haired old widower held a handful of wild mint and stammered as he confessed his love to his long-widowed neighbor.

You can get divorced once you're married, but once you lose your house, it's really gone.

Wang Bufu stood with his arms crossed, watching the boiling tide of courtship in the wetlands. When the first couple clasped their muddy hands together instead of rings on the edge of the field, a sharp smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

There are no lights in the swamp at night. Regardless of whether these arranged marriages will last, as long as a man and a woman get together and things escalate, something good will always happen.

The life-giving spring has an unreasonable effect on increasing the birth rate.

(End of this chapter)