Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 141 Louis Makes a Dazzling Appearance

The half-day sports meet came to a successful conclusion amidst cheers and laughter.

Then came the final event of spring, the Spring Beginning Feast.

The Red Tide Territory of today is no longer the desolate stronghold it once was.

With the return of displaced people and the stabilization of the border, the population has exceeded three thousand.

It's no longer realistic to imagine sitting around a small open space and having a meal together like we did at the beginning.

So the whole-territory feast was divided into two parts.

In the center of the square, the vast majority of residents sat in groups, with fires burning and rows of wooden tables.

A sumptuous feast was served one by one: stewed porridge, roasted meat and bread, and some snacks that are rarely seen on ordinary days.

Some people sang songs, some danced simple group dances, and children chased and played around the bonfire, filling the air with joy.

Amidst the jubilant crowd, a young figure slowly walked in.

That was Louis, the lord of the Red Tide Territory.

"Oh, it's Lord Louis!"

"Look, the lord is here!"

People stood up in surprise, their expressions as excited as if they had seen a god.

No, it was seeing the sun.

They looked at him as if they were people who had been waiting for dawn for a long time in the cold night, looking up at the light of the first sunrise.

That brightness and warmth were enough to ignite a flame that had been extinguished in my chest for a long time.

Louis walked from table to table, bowing his head to greet each table.

He wasn't condescending; he just smiled softly and asked, "Did you enjoy today's food? Did the children eat their fill? Did the rain a few days ago affect the construction site?"

Even just a few words, even just a nod, are like the rising sun in winter, seeping into people's hearts and dispelling years of coldness.

An elderly man, leaning on his cane, stood up, still tightly gripping Louis's hand, and choked out, "Sir...it's all thanks to you that we can still sit around the table and eat today...thank you, really, thank you..."

This voice garnered even more support.

All those gazes, all those tears, all those smiles, were directed at one person—Louis.

He didn't say much, but listened attentively and responded as usual, and the crowd seemed to have finally grasped hope.

Because they knew that with him around, the Red Tide would never be cold.

…………

Meanwhile, in the main hall of the Red Tide Castle tower, another, even more solemn banquet was quietly unfolding.

There were no extravagant gold and silver decorations, nor any of the superficial pleasantries of aristocratic social gatherings; only rows of gleaming oak tables, neatly arranged between the firelight flickering on the stone walls.

Those who can enter this hall are the true pillars of the entire Red Tide Territory.

Those who can sit in this tower are either official knights or elite knights of the Crimson Tide.

Or they are the various managers responsible for the daily operations: Mick, the head of agriculture; Luke, the fishery manager; the workshop director; the well foreman; the female granary manager...

There were even a few labor representatives still wearing coarse work clothes, their faces filled with tension.

They were either farmers, artisans, or even one or two slaves.

They also earned recognition through their hard work by being recognized as representatives of slaves at this banquet.

But they will soon be freed from slavery and become free men.

In this banquet hall, no one is superior, and no one needs to bow their head.

Because in the Red Tide, anyone who is willing to work hard and help others deserves to sit in this hall and drink with the lord.

These are the rights that Louis granted them.

Emily, as a "friendly guest" from Frostspear City, was also arranged to attend this formal banquet.

As a "wandering merchant," she was somewhat surprised.

What surprised him even more was that the people around her were not "aristocrats" in the traditional sense.

They were dressed neatly, but clearly not in formal attire; rather, they wore work clothes for frequent activities. Beneath their rough linen clothing lay sun-tanned skin and calluses from the hammer handles.

Their conversation lacked the reserved affectation of those noblewomen; instead, it was warm and genuine.

"Mick, how are your spring planting preparations going?"

"It's alright. Mike made me a heavy plow, and it works very well."

……

These "distinguished guests" were laughing and talking loudly at the main table, toasting each other, exchanging information about farming, fishing, well and canal maintenance, and the difficulties they had encountered at work recently.

But their faces were filled with glory and naturalness.

Neither humble nor reserved.

Emily stared at them blankly, not understanding why Louis had done this.

Then her gaze inadvertently swept towards the high position.

She thought she would see the young lord, but she didn't; Louis wasn't there.

She finally couldn't help but ask softly to a female worker sitting next to her, "When will Lord Louis arrive?"

The female worker, who was studying how to make the grilled meat taste good, smiled when she heard this and said, "Lord? He's still over in the square greeting the residents. I reckon he'll be back in a little while."

When she said this, her tone was relaxed, yet carried a subtle hint of pride.

It was as if to say: He is our lord, and we all know what he is capable of.

And it was at that moment that Emily suddenly understood something.

She understood why this land exuded such a unique aura. She understood why these people, who originally came from humble backgrounds, radiated a dignity that did not belong to the lower classes.

Louis initially rose to this position through family background or power.

He did not use his power to deal with the residents when governing the territory.

Louis did not sit on the throne, but walked among the crowd.

They earned their loyalty by creating the order they themselves had created.

At that moment, Emily lowered her head gently, her eyes no longer filled with confusion, but with genuine respect.

Just as she was deep in thought, the entrance to the hall suddenly fell silent.

It was a very natural silence; everyone put down their cups and turned their heads away without prior arrangement.

An old craftsman was the first to stand up, followed by many more. The sound of chairs sliding up and down filled the air, and applause and shouts erupted like waves.

"Lord Louis!"

"Our lord has arrived!"

Everyone's eyes were filled with respect and gratitude, as if they were welcoming a true guardian.

Emily immediately looked up as well.

he came.

The legendary Crimson Tide Lord, the young viscount, was her fiancé.

Louis makes a dazzling entrance.

He wore a well-tailored black and gold uniform, the colors understated yet dignified.

Emily stared at the young lord as he walked into the main hall, momentarily lost in thought.

Louise was nothing like the "battlefield hero" she had imagined.

She had once read through intelligence reports about the Battle of Qingyu Ridge in Frostspear City, and when she saw reports that read "a hundred against a thousand" and "defeated the elite of the Snow Oath", she was deeply moved.

In her mind, she envisioned a robust, angular young general.

Perhaps, like her father, her face would be covered with scars, giving her an imposing yet frightening appearance.

After all, how could someone who can stand out in such a chaotic world not be a roaring beast?

But Louis, who was standing in front of her at this moment, completely overturned her perception.

He was not burly, but tall and strong, with distinct yet unexaggerated lines, like a sword with its edge concealed.

His skin glowed faintly in the candlelight, and his face was handsome.

Even Emily couldn't help but think to herself that he was a little too handsome.

What she couldn't ignore most was his gaze, like the deep sea at night—calm and composed, yet concealing a storm.

This is not a fierce general who roars and slashes at enemies on the battlefield; this is a king who can sit atop a mountain and overlook the entire situation.

Emily looked away, lowering her head to hide a hint of shyness.

"So... this is the type of man my fiancé is?"

A faint, enigmatic smile played on her lips, but her heart skipped a beat.

It wasn't entirely because he was good-looking. What truly moved her were what she had seen and heard over the past two days.

It was the cheers from the sports meet, the shouts from the square.

It is the pride that cannot be hidden in the eyes of the residents, and the posture of those who were once silent now holding their heads high again.

That's what it looks like when a lord truly wins the trust and support of the people.

This is what fascinates Emily the most, and of course, all of this is based on the premise that he is handsome.

Louis finally stepped into the main hall of Red Tide Castle.

Applause, polite greetings, and people standing up erupted like a tidal wave, but he merely nodded slightly in acknowledgment, his gaze secretly sweeping over a corner of the guests' seats before taking his seat.

His gaze lingered there for half a second.

A woman was looking down, her posture so restrained it was almost... furtive.

On her face was a diagonal old scar that stretched from her brow bone to her jaw, like a mark left by a sharp blade.

The scars were faint yet clear, shocking to the eye, and almost at first glance one would categorize her as a "woman who survived the war".

Louis's gaze lingered on her face for only a moment before he looked away, seemingly unconcerned.

The makeup artist's technique was good; the colors were well-matched, and even the lighting was handled meticulously, but unfortunately, it didn't fool me.

Since she doesn't want to show her true face, let's wait for her to speak for herself.

There's no rush anyway.

Louis withdrew his gaze, did not linger, and walked swiftly toward the head seat, his figure in a black and gold uniform casting a sharp shadow in the candlelight.

He leaped up, sat in the high seat, and raised his glass to the crowd.

The hall was silent; everyone was waiting for his voice.

"My fellow travelers, we have weathered the most difficult winter together this year." He slowly scanned the entire room. "It is your perseverance and your hard work that have kept the warm fire burning in this territory."

I especially want to thank the female workers at the smoked fish shop, the porters at the grain depot, and the carpenters; it is your hard work that has kept the granary and roof standing this winter.”

He paused, then smiled and raised his glass to everyone: "Now, spring has arrived. In the coming year, we will continue to build roads, houses, farm fields, and fish, making our home even better."

Today, regardless of social status or position, whether you are a knight standing on the city wall or a farmer tilling the land, this is a festival for every Chichao person.

Eat well! Drink well! Laugh to your heart's content! At this moment, the Red Tide belongs to you!

(End of this chapter)