Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 200: A bumper harvest of grain

The morning frost had not yet dissipated, and the sun had just crossed the southern end of Chichao Ridge, casting its light on the vast fields.

A golden wave rippled across the rye field, undulating with the wind. Potatoes were piled up like small mountains, and dewdrops still clung to the turnip leaves, glistening in the sunlight.

The air is filled with the aroma of soil, grains, and a faint stew—the aroma of a farmer's breakfast.

"Hmm, it tastes good." Louis took a breath, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He was dressed in light gray-blue riding clothes, his boots still damp with dew and mud, but he didn't seem to care.

This land, once barren, is now a vibrant and bountiful scene.

He walked slowly along the ridges between the fields, and looking up, he saw rows of neat and full ears of wheat, as if they were nodding to him.

"Lord Louis!" a voice, panting and sweating, rang out.

Old farmer Mike was running from the other end of the turnip field, wiping the sweat from his brow as he hurried to meet him.

"You...you really came in person. I was thinking of working a little longer before reporting to you."

“I have to see for myself too.” Louis patted him on the shoulder. “After all, Mick, what you said in your report a few days ago was so exaggerated that I was a little worried that you were just bragging.”

“Then I’ll show you around,” he replied excitedly.

So Mick led Louis across the field ridges, their feet sinking into the freshly turned, damp soil, still slightly warm from the ground.

"This year's wheat is the perfect color, the grains are plump, and the ears are even... it's like gold."

He pointed to the wheat field on the left, which was already mostly harvested, his tone full of undisguised pride, "Not only is it almost twice as much as last year, but these first two fields alone are enough for four villages to get through the winter!"

Louis raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the farmers carrying sacks. The heavy sacks were neatly arranged, like fortresses welcoming autumn.

Mick didn't stop, and led him to the other side, flicking his arm to point to a more distant slope:
"This batch of potatoes is also growing very well; I've never seen them grow so evenly. We dug basket after basket of them out of the mud, which is really enviable."

This year we planted early and harvested quickly; this hot spring irrigation system is truly amazing… the soil doesn't freeze, and the buds sprout fast!

He was panting heavily, but he still spoke rapidly, as if he wanted to vomit out everything he had accumulated over the past few months in one breath.

"You see the turnips too? This year, the roots have grown deep, the leaves are tender and juicy, and the soil underground is truly nourishing."

We also tried planting a few new things: winter carrots, dark beans, and the thin-skinned buckwheat we brought back from the south. Not only did they all sprout, but they also produced seeds.

The red radishes were graded, the tender celery was dried, and the harder ones were used to make soup. Even the wild mountain produce like moss mushrooms weren't wasted.

Mick spoke with such enthusiasm that even the mud on his face seemed to sparkle.

"In addition to staple food, there are also dried wild vegetables, pickled vegetables... all of which are stored together."

The smoking room is almost full, we need to make some more space..."

“To be honest…” He stopped and looked up at Louis, “I’ve been a farmer my whole life and I’ve never seen anything like this, with bags piled up like small mountains. Sir, your method… is truly miraculous.”

Louis crouched down, grabbed a handful of fresh wheat, rubbed it in his palm, and gently rolled his thumb over the grains, feeling their fullness and warmth.

"The color is indeed quite nice." He nodded and smiled. "But no matter how good the method is, you still need skills like yours to make it work."

Mick rubbed his hands together and gave a shy smile: "Hey, yes, yes... but it mainly depends on, on the lord. I really thought about it all night last night. Our grain might be the first in the North this year."

Bradley added, "The reserves are five times that of last year. The surplus food from Red Tide is not only enough for the local area to get through the winter, but if properly allocated, it can not only meet the needs of Red Tide Territory, but also provide support to other territories."

Louis nodded, indicating that they had done a good job.

At this moment, many farmers are resting beside the haystacks on the edge of the field, holding steaming bowls of turnip porridge in their hands.

White steam was still rising from the pot by the field, and a woman was adding soup from a pot, while a child squatted on the ground licking his fingers, which were covered with crumbs from wheat cakes.

"Sigh...this time it's really different." An elderly farmer with gray hair stirred the porridge, his voice filled with heartfelt emotion.

“In previous years at this time, we had to count every straw we had to survive. Now look at us, even the children can have enough porridge to eat!”

"Isn't that right?" The burly man next to him gulped down his drink, then grabbed half a wheat cake and chewed on it. "Unlike other territories, where 30% of what you planted would rot 20%, and of the 10% you harvested, you had to hand over most of it! Back then, hoping for a piece of cake was harder than hoping for the snow to melt!"

"No wonder a bunch of people have been sneaking over from other regions these past few months, claiming they're here to 'seek refuge with their relatives.' But who doesn't know they just want to freeload in our territory!" someone added with a low laugh, eliciting laughter from the crowd.

"Why do you think we had such a good harvest this year?" A young man rolled up his sleeves, revealing his sun-kissed arms. "My wife said it's because of the lord's... fire turtle shed and that black powder, which he said can drive away bugs and make the soil loose."

"Yes, yes, yes!" the old farmer nodded immediately. "I've been growing turnips for thirty years, and I've never seen so few insects. That black powder, when sprinkled on, even makes the soil more breathable!"

“Sigh, in the end,” someone sighed again, their voice lowering, “I’ve heard so many nobles talk about caring for the people these past few years, but how many of them have actually gone to the fields? How many of them have stood by our fields and asked, ‘Have you eaten enough?’”

"But the lord... he really did pick up a hoe and do it. Every time he didn't see it with his own eyes and try it himself, did you remember last year when he stood on the edge of the field trying to plant the fire tortoise shed? I saw it with my own eyes, and his trouser legs were blistered from the heat, but he didn't complain once!"

"Oh dear, I almost cried when I think about this," a young woman said, suppressing a laugh. "My child even said, 'It's like the adults are casting a spell on the land, and the land is willing to grow more food!'"

"Hey, that's well said. Living in the Red Tide Territory is like being blessed by the gods!"

Amidst the laughter of the crowd, a soft cough was suddenly heard.

Looking back, Louis was already standing on the edge of the field with Bradley and Mick, watching them calmly.

After a moment of silence, an old farmer suddenly realized what was happening and quickly put down his bowl and plate and stood up: "Lord, sir!"

Almost instantly, a large number of people stood up from the crowd. Then, all the farmers put down their food and tools, and knelt down in unison and with great enthusiasm before Louis, their voices merging into one:
"Long live the Lord of the Crimson Tide!"

"My lord, you've worked hard!"

"Thank you for feeding us!!"

One shout after another rose and fell in the fields, those rough voices carrying a fiery heat, sincere and powerful, more surging than the rolling waves of wheat in the afternoon.

Louis was slightly taken aback, clearly surprised by this sudden enthusiasm.

A moment later, he smiled and raised his hand: "Get up, everyone. The food is still warm. Don't let it get cold because of me."

But the enthusiasm of the crowd cannot be extinguished by just a few words.

Someone handed him a bowl of soup, and several peasant women urged him eagerly to drink it. He had no choice but to take it and sit down on a bench at the edge of the field, drinking a few mouthfuls of hot soup.

The warm aroma, carrying the fragrance of celery and stewed bones, mixed with the scents of herbs and earth from afar, warms the heart.

He soon got up to leave, and walked around the main field ridges to check the growth and harvest progress of various crops.

Wherever they went, farmers would put down their work and cheer.

Nearly half of the rye has been harvested, and turnips and potatoes are being stored away one after another. Occasionally, you can see a few children carrying carrots still covered in mud, showing them off to the adults like trophies.

“…Very good.” He finally stopped at a high corner of a field, gazing at the rolling golden waves of wheat in the distance, and squinted his eyes. “Mick, you did a great job.”

Mick stood beside him, scratching his head, his face flushed, whether from the sun or from happiness, it was hard to tell: "I don't deserve it, it's all thanks to your methods back then... I was just following them."

Louis nodded in satisfaction, then turned to look at Bradley beside him.

"Let me briefly describe the current harvest and reserve situation."

Bradley, who was already waiting nearby, bowed slightly upon hearing this, opened his notebook, and said in a calm but slightly proud tone:
"Yes, sir. Currently, 70% of the three types of staple grains in Red Tide Territory have been stored, with rye having the most abundant reserves, while turnips and potatoes are both three times higher than the same period last year."

"The early crops and trial crops in the fire turtle shed area, such as winter carrots and dark beans, have also completed their first harvest. Although the quantity is small, they can be used as a supplement to the diet."

He paused briefly and turned to another page: "In addition, regarding fisheries, all fishing spots have completed their catches."

Smoked salmon, pickled carp, and sun-dried fish are all stored in accordance with the prescribed ratios. Combined with venison processed in the smokehouse, dried wild birds, grass roots and mushrooms, and dried wild vegetables, the total supply is enough to feed 6,000 people for more than three months.

"As for herbs and spare by-products, they have been handed over to the Medical Association for sorting and classification, and some have been put into the medicine warehouse."

After he finished speaking, he took a half step back and stood with his hands at his sides.

Louis nodded slightly: "What about the other territories?"

Bradley said in a low voice, "Due to the difference in altitude, some early-maturing crops in the Deer Territory and Snowfield Territory have entered the harvest season; the Fir Territory is delayed by about a month due to soil conditions; the Ice Ridge Territory and Winter Dawn Territory are still relatively cold, and it is expected that large-scale production will not occur until late autumn."

However, all of them adopted your proposed improved planting methods, including crop rotation planning and the use of fertilizers... Although they lack geothermal advantages, overall, their territories will be one to two times larger than those of other lords.

Upon hearing this, Louis pondered for a moment and said, "In other words, although the Red Tide harvests the earliest, this year should be a bumper harvest for all the territories under my control."

“Yes.” Bradley nodded.

Accompanied by a shout in the distance, a cart slowly began to roll along the ridges of the fields, and sacks were packed and neatly stacked one by one.

Rye, potatoes, turnips... fully loaded, they were moved back and forth on handcarts, making the field as lively as a temporary transfer station.

Louis's gaze fell on the heavy sacks of grain. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "Half of this grain will be transported back to the Red Rock Granary, and the other half will be repackaged and sent to the earthen buildings in various places."

Upon hearing this, Bradley hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice and leaned closer to remind him, "Sir... the Red Rock Warehouse is temperature-controlled, moisture-proof, and insect-proof, so it can preserve things for longer."

He was referring to the grain storage area built in the territory last year, which was further expanded and widened this year to store even more grain.

Today, the warehouses are deep and secluded, with interconnected rock chambers, making them difficult to be affected even by surface temperature differences, truly a precious storage site.

Louis looked towards the distant mountains, his expression slightly serious: "There may be huge changes ahead. Whether it's war or a plague, just in case there is a major upheaval, it's faster to transfer grain from the Tulou."

His voice wasn't loud, but it startled Bradley, who immediately lowered his head and replied, "Understood."

Today, the "Tulou" is no longer just the main city of Chichaobao.

Under Mike's direction, following the structure of the main city, two simpler circular earthen buildings were constructed on the east and south sides of Chichao Territory to serve as residential housing and transit points for supplies.

The other six subordinate territories also each built a simple earthen building that was easy to defend and difficult to attack, which was distributed like stars and echoed each other.

That was for protection against winter, war, and the mother nest.

“Furthermore…” Louis turned his gaze to Bradley, “through the Calvin Chamber of Commerce, we should purchase more grain from the south. Even if this year’s harvest is all stored up, we should be prepared for the worst.”

Bradley nodded in a deep voice as he jotted down the instructions in the register: "Understood, I'll make the contact right away."

He paused, then added in a gentle tone, "These days, everyone is saying that thanks to you, we'll have a good winter this year."

"I hope...it really will be like that."

Louis didn't turn around, but stood quietly by the edge of the field, watching the sunlight shine on the wheat awns, as if beneath that layer of gold lay another layer of shadow that had never been seen.

(End of this chapter)