Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 181 Arrival
July is the shortest and gentlest season of the year in the North.

The sunlight, though faint, gently spilled across the open fields, brushing past the treetops and wheat fields. The cold wind seemed to have paused, leaving only a slight chill lingering in the hair.

On a quiet afternoon, a convoy slowly drove along the main road outside Red Tide City.

Leading the procession was an honor guard dispatched by the Duke of Edmund's household, followed closely by a dozen or so carriages.

"This is the Red Tide Territory?"

Duchess Elena sat in the second carriage, lifting a corner of the curtain to gaze at the gradually changing scenery outside the window.

Born into an old noble family in the North, she was quite knowledgeable from a young age, having accompanied her husband on provincial inspections for many years, traveling to many famous places in the North and South.

But the scene before her still made her pause slightly.

The streets were clean, with not a single scrap of paper in the corners, and the stone pavement looked as clean and tidy as if it had just been paved.

On both sides of the road, workers were carrying sacks of wheat in an orderly fashion. Their movements were skilled and orderly, and there was not a trace of fatigue in their eyes.

Further away, several children were running and playing by the low fence, their hair and laughter fluttering in the summer breeze.

Outside the carriage, a middle-aged attendant with gray hair approached Elena's carriage window and sighed softly, "Madam... in all my years of traveling through the provinces, I have never seen such a peaceful border region."

"Is this really... a main territory that has only been developed for a little over a year?" Elena murmured to herself.

Olivia, the head maid sitting opposite her, pushed up her glasses, a hint of appreciation on her lips: "The farmland is well-maintained, and the roads are also very smooth."

She paused, then said seriously, "Most importantly, the villagers all have rosy complexions. Even if a place isn't rich, it's certainly not poor."

On the other side, Emily listened to these words of praise for the Red Tide Territory, and a slight smile appeared on her lips, as if a faint sense of pride was gently emerging from the depths of her heart.

As the convoy moved forward, the city gate gradually became clearer in the distance.

A squad of Crimson Tide Knights stood in formation on both sides of the main road, wearing black cloaks with red patterns, each with a sword at their side.

The lead knight knelt on one knee and proclaimed loudly, "Lord Louis Calvin of the Crimson Tide commands us to welcome Princess Emily, daughter of Duke Edmund and the future mistress of the house!"

They were greeted by an elderly but very elegant butler, who was well-dressed and walked with a steady gait.

"Welcome, Your Highness, welcome, Madam. The Lord is making final preparations for the wedding. Let me arrange for you both to rest first."

Louis did not come in person because, according to the wedding customs of the Empire, especially among the nobility, it was inappropriate for the newlyweds to meet before the wedding.

The carriage then slowly drove into the main street of Red Tide City.

The city was more bustling than expected.

Yet it wasn't the kind of noisy, chaotic bustle, but rather a kind of rhythmic, orderly symmetry.

Red and blue ribbons were hung on both sides of the road, symbolizing unity and celebration.

A gentle breeze caused the ribbons to sway like waves, adding a touch of tender rhythm to the upcoming wedding.

The market was bustling in the afternoon, with stalls lined up neatly one after another, and goods clearly categorized.

The candy vendor, wearing a clean linen apron, was filling bottles with honey-coated roasted dried fruit.

A traveling musician nearby strummed his instrument, singing a new tune for a wedding hymn, which surprisingly had a good rhythm.

A child ran by humming a tune, tore off a ribbon and wrapped it around his head as a headscarf, his laughter bursting out crisply in the crowd.

Just as the carriage was about to turn the corner, Elena gently lifted the curtain to look at the scenery.

Not far ahead, a long queue had formed in front of a grain shop.

Strangely, the people in line didn't look anxious at all. Instead, they were all chatting and laughing, and occasionally a few men dressed in coarse cloth would spontaneously maintain order.

This piqued her curiosity, so she sent a few people to investigate.

Soon after, a maid approached the carriage window and whispered in her ear, "Madam, that grain shop is a relief point set up by the Red Tide Territory itself."

As long as you're willing to work, you can exchange it for food; even refugees... Everyone here has enough to eat.

"I'm full..." Elena murmured repeatedly, as if confirming.

An older knight accompanying them added in a deep voice, "In Frostspear City, the vagrants outside the regular army are either stealing or causing trouble..."

Yet the Red Tide managed to control the army by feeding the people, and surprisingly, it didn't descend into chaos. This... is simply unbelievable.

Upon hearing this, Emily's lips involuntarily curled up, feeling a sense of pride.

She glanced at her mother discreetly and noticed that Elena's gaze had softened, even showing a thoughtful hint of agreement.

Emily's cheeks flushed instantly, and she lowered her head to gently bite her lower lip, a sweet feeling welling up in her heart.

He didn't do anything earth-shattering, nor did he make anyone grovel or kneel in worship...

But the people here truly revere him as the sun, simply because he provides them with enough to eat.

Soon they arrived at a three-story mansion.

In the flowerbed in front of the door, the roses of early summer are in full bloom, and the air is filled with a rich fragrance, as if even the sunlight has been tinged with sweetness.

As the Red Tide Territory continued to expand and Louis's influence grew in the North, the original practice of living in communal crypts was no longer the norm.

Today, Chichao not only has a strict and orderly urban planning, but also has built a number of residences and reception centers for visiting guests. This residence is one of them.

On the second-floor balcony of the mansion, the wind rustled the window curtains, carrying a hint of rose fragrance and the sounds of singing from the distant market.

The governor's wife, Elena, sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the neatly arranged streets and rooftops in the distance, her expression dazed.

The sunlight slanted down onto a few strands of silver hair at her temples, softening her usually dignified and elegant profile.

She remembered how unwilling she had been to this arranged marriage.

The northern border is desolate and cold, and Red Tide Territory is only a newly established territory that has been developed for a little over a year.

As for the young man named Louis, although he came from the Calvin family, one of the "Eight Great Families" alongside the Edmund family, he was, after all, just a pioneering nobleman without any foundation. What could he really give Emily?

She was not Emily's biological mother, but she had raised Emily herself since she was six years old.

She couldn't bear to see this intelligent and gentle girl marry far away to this desolate place.

The original hope was that she could stay in the capital or marry into the warm and prosperous south and live a truly comfortable and peaceful aristocratic life, instead of suffering and freezing in the north, accompanying a young man to "conquer the world".

But now it seems that perhaps she was too pessimistic back then.

What she saw was a clean village, bountiful fields, a dense yet orderly market, a well-organized wedding, and respect in the eyes of every receptionist.

The sound of footsteps was soft.

Emily approached, wearing a light blue family-patterned long dress.

She didn't disturb her mother's contemplation, but silently walked to her side and gently took her arm.

"Mom," she called softly.

Elena turned around and looked at the girl she had raised, her eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions.

She slowly raised her hand and gently placed it on the back of Emily's hand.

“I used to be really worried that you would suffer.” Her voice was gentle, but her tone was soft. “I advised your father to let you marry someone from the south, so that you wouldn’t suffer in the future.”

She paused, looked at the children dancing on the street in the distance, and then glanced at the city wall and the guards standing straight on the watchtower in the distance.

“But look,” she said softly, “this city is more orderly than your father’s territory; and the people are smiling… as if they’re not afraid of anything. I find myself feeling at ease.”

Emily didn't speak, but simply tightened her grip on her hand, a hint of tears welling up in her eyes.

The governor's wife sighed softly, but smiled: "Perhaps marrying into this family is not a bad thing for you."

“Hmm…” Emily responded softly, her cheeks slightly flushed, and she leaned gently on her mother’s shoulder.

In her mother's eyes, she had already entrusted her fate to others.

And finally, the mother was able to let go of this entrustment willingly.

…………

The sunlight in Red Tide City was a bit too bright.

Pal Calvin sat on his horse, his cloak billowing in the wind, but his eyes remained as cold and stern as ever.

Pal dislikes crowds and even more so weddings, and he had intended to decline.

But in the letter, the father coldly gave the order: "Make a good impression at your brother's wedding."

The family has far too few people in the North, and his father sent him here to help out.

He was very dissatisfied with this marriage.

Because he had seen Emily once from afar.

At that time, Emily was like a red plum blossom in the snow, walking past him with the air of a flower on a high mountain.

Par thought she would be drawn to the ideal aristocrat like herself, who was "quiet, resilient and self-reliant".

He wasn't the kind of pioneering baron who could win favor simply by having good luck and speaking casually.

But she chose Louis.

It's like a beautiful flower stuck in cow dung! "That guy just happened to find a fertile spot and then latched onto Miss Frosthalberd's coattails," Pal gritted her teeth.

He was unconvinced, of course he was.

In order to demonstrate his ambition that "I can expand the territory on my own," he refused the land near the red tide arranged by the governor.

He personally selected Wolf Plains Slope, south of the Cold Mist River, based on intelligence that it was rich in mineral resources and had trade potential.

But reality was crueler than he imagined.

Cultivating permafrost is incredibly difficult. It was only recently, with the support of my second brother, that things started to improve. We've managed to barely survive by relying on the rations and morale we've managed to save little by little.

But he refused to admit defeat.

"Anyone else would have collapsed long ago. The fact that I survived is proof enough."

He firmly believed that as long as he had sufficient resources and support, he would be no worse than that "fate-sucking guy"!

Even though his clothes were covered in mud and the carriage that brought him to Chichao was old and shaky.

Standing outside the city gate, seeing the rows of red and white ribbons and the knights in formation, he still sneered inwardly.

"Is this all the pomp and circumstance you've got? Hmph, once Wolf Plains rises to power, one day they'll all have to see it."

But before that... he still has to handle the task of "keeping up appearances".

Perhaps he could take this opportunity to see Emily again.

Consider it a way of proving to myself: "She made the wrong choice."

Pal rode slowly through the streets of Red Tide City, his gaze unconsciously wandering around.

His gaze was initially disdainful, even somewhat expectant of a laugh. But as he walked, his expression gradually hardened.

The city gate was heavily guarded, with soldiers standing at attention, their armor gleaming and their expressions solemn.

Unlike some noble families who are merely for show, these people have actually experienced battles.

"Tsk, but that's all there is to it." He smirked, stubbornly retorting.

But he only managed to utter half of his sarcastic remark before the sight of the city stopped him in his tracks.

The streets were so clean they didn't look like they belonged in the North.

Red and blue ribbons were hung outside the shops, children ran around at the alley entrance, and someone shouted: "Hurry up! The lord's wedding is about to begin!"

Further away, several older children were telling stories to the younger children.

It tells the story of the "Red Tide Sun" who defeated the Snow Oath Warriors and rescued three villages in the Battle of Qingyu Ridge.

Parr led his horse forward slowly, his brow slightly furrowed.

He saw vagrants dressed in coarse cloth helping to repair the road at a street corner, with officials directing the way, but almost no one scolding or driving them away.

The attendants around him were equally surprised and couldn't help but say, "This order... is rare indeed."

"Hmph." Pal snorted coldly, as if trying to cover something up: "You're quite the actor."

But he himself realized that he sounded a little guilty about what he said.

The Crimson Tide Knights arrayed atop the city walls made him even more uneasy. They were not the typical, loosely organized private armies of nobles.

Pal recognized that most of these knights came from the Calvin family. Looking at his own knights, who were also born into the Calvin family, he wondered why their demeanor was so different.

He tried to find fault, but found that he couldn't find anything at all.

"How is that possible... only a little over a year." He felt a chill in his heart, asking himself if he could do such a thing.

For the first time, he realized that the "Louis Calvin" who was no more than twenty years old might not be the lucky one he had imagined.

Walking along the main street, Parr encountered an acquaintance in a square covered with a red carpet.
Veris Calvin, having just finished greeting the receptionist in Red Tide City, slowly turned around and met Pal's gaze.

The two paused for a moment. After all, they were half-brothers, not close, but not to the point of turning against each other.

"Long time no see." Pal smiled, his tone indifferent.

“Yes,” Veris nodded, responding gently.

The two walked towards the banquet hall one after the other, their steps half a step apart, and their conversation could be considered somewhat natural.

"I heard that spring planting started quite early where you are?" Pal asked tentatively.

“Yes, Louis has helped me a lot.” Willis said calmly. “We’ve already designated 300 acres as a pilot area, planting cold-resistant rye. This year… we should be able to harvest some food.”

He spoke calmly and deliberately, neither boasting nor concealing anything.

“Oh?” Pal raised an eyebrow.

“The waterwheels and the seed-planting teams were also sent down from here,” Willis continued. “At first, the villagers were a little unfamiliar with them, but the agricultural officials sent by Louis taught them carefully, and the progress was relatively smooth.”

He mentioned "Louis's help" with gratitude.

Pal listened, but felt uneasy.

He had certainly heard the rumors that after Veris was stationed in Snowpeak County, he took the initiative to join Louis and even planned his fiefdom according to the Red Tide model.

I had thought that was a desperate measure to "rely on others for food and clothing," but I never expected the other party to speak so confidently at this moment.

It doesn't feel like showing off, but it's even more hurtful than showing off.

“It’s about the same over there.” Pal tried to sound relaxed. “The water system over at Wolf Plains is still relatively clear, so I had someone clear the land first. Although the magical beasts are a bit of a nuisance… it’s mostly cleared out, and spring planting has started.”

As Pal spoke, he used vague words like "also," "not bad," and "more or less" to obscure the current situation.

He was unwilling to say that the frozen ground was deep and the ground could not be turned over, that the people were scattering quickly, and that the camp had to rely on knights to patrol at night to prevent theft.

He was even more reluctant to admit that the seeds he was able to plant this time were only thanks to his second brother who brought them from the south.

He glanced at Veris after he finished speaking.

The other person simply nodded quietly as always, without asking any questions or being sarcastic, appearing excessively composed.

In that instant, Pal suddenly felt a strange sense of frustration.

The more low-key and earnest Willis appears, the more it seems like he's putting on a show...

He smirked: "We're both doing quite well, let's work together to make it bigger and stronger."

She said that, but what she really thought was, "Living off her brother's charity...isn't that shameful?"

Pal gave a perfunctory reply, and the two exchanged some trivial pleasantries, maintaining a superficially polite atmosphere. But until they parted, he felt a vague, bitter taste in his mouth.

He was the eldest of the three brothers and was born into the best family, so he should be the most secure one now.

But now, comparing them again...

Louis emerged out of nowhere, achieving numerous military exploits, and now Red Tide City has almost become a rising star territory in the North.

Although Willis started late, he was fortunate to have Louis's strong support, and he thrived, at least in terms of food and clothing and political achievements.

And what about Tapar?
Monsters roam the territory, morale is low, and the people are barely holding on with the help of their second brother. They still haven't managed to get the land under control.

If what Veris said is true, then he himself is the one who is doing the worst.

He became increasingly agitated as he thought about it, and followed the Red Tide guards all the way back to the inn.

The city streets were clean, the soldiers were disciplined, and even the young servants were polite, as if this place were not the territory of a newly risen noble family, but rather an old noble family that had ruled the North for many years.

This made him feel even more depressed.

Back at the inn, he tossed his cloak aside and sat down heavily. His eyes were dark; he lifted his silver cup as if to drink it all in one gulp, but instead took only a small sip, managing to utter a single sentence:
"Hmph... He's just lucky."

The butler respectfully poured wine beside him and gently reminded him, "My lord, this visit is a gesture of goodwill personally instructed by the Duke... not a competition to determine who is superior or inferior."

Pal did not answer immediately.

He knew, of course, that his trip to Chichao was to represent his family's stance.

He had to admit that Louis was no longer a marginal figure, but rather the true new core of the North.

He just hadn't expected that reality would be even more glaring than he imagined.

He had thought that Louis's few military achievements were nothing more than a stroke of luck.

Veris only got ahead by riding on Louis's coattails; he didn't have any real ability.

But what I saw and heard today...

Pal's mind flashed back to the orderly military formations, the peaceful market, the people's reverent address of "Lord," and Veris's calm yet resolute tone...

He gritted his teeth and drank the red wine in his glass in one gulp.

“Let him be smug for a while,” Pal said in a low voice. “He’s too naive to think he can hold onto the North with just a few victories…”

Even he himself could tell that there wasn't much confidence in his words.

(End of this chapter)