Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 254 Preliminary Construction
In the wheat valley, the snow has just melted and the mud is still wet, but the earth is already showing signs of life.

As the remains of the last frost giant were cleared from the valley, Louis stood on a small hill, gazing at the basin plain that was gradually being reclaimed, and slowly exhaled.

The giant is dead, the threat is gone, but the real battle has just begun.

Large numbers of refugees are being systematically guided by the Red Tide Territory's administrative hall into this valley that was once occupied by ice, snow, and monsters.

Ox-carts laden with all their belongings and groups of refugees drove in, smoke rising from the valley entrance. The cries of children, the rhythm of blacksmiths hammering iron, and the crisp sound of hoes breaking the soil all combined to create a new rhythm of life.

This place will no longer be a dead zone.

Louis named it "Wheatfield Collar".

This is not just a name, but a hope.

He hopes that one day, this basin will be able to grow enough food to feed all his territories and become the largest granary under the Red Tide banner.

Those who entered the Wheat Wave Territory this time were mostly refugees who had been accepted by the Red Tide Territory during the cold winter after the insect plague; they had no choice.

It was Louis who opened the granaries, built shacks, and provided work relief during the coldest months, saving them from freezing and starving to death.

Some people still carry that tattered cloth "Red Tide Citizenship Certificate" with them, hiding it in their bosom like a talisman to protect their lives.

So when the call to spring plowing was issued, they followed the officials almost without hesitation.

The valley is remote and the conditions are harsh, but as long as it is "land designated by Lord Louis," they dare to plant, are willing to plant, and are able to plant.

They trusted him not only because of the food, nor just because of the station or the land, but because he never treated them as disaster victims, but as people who could take root in this land and establish a territory.

Of course, they had nowhere to go after leaving Louis.

Besides these refugees who lost their homes due to the insect plague and now seek refuge with Red Tide, there is also a small group of people who once followed Louis in building Red Tide Territory but have now voluntarily left their stable living areas.

They didn't have to come. Red Tide Territory had gradually recovered, with food, roads, and houses. If they had stayed there, they could have at least had a peaceful spring.

Yet they still packed their bags and, following the territorial order, voluntarily stepped into this uncultivated valley where not even a wisp of smoke rose.

There are only two reasons.

One was Louis Calvin, the young lord they had witnessed firsthand and whom they had personally supported.

He was not the kind of aristocrat who sat high in the hall and only talked theory.

Instead, it was the young lord who personally donned armor and mounted his horse during the nighttime attack by the insect-infested corpses, patrolled the shantytowns with a medicine pot in the cold winter night, and fought for food, people, and supplies for them one by one in the council hall.

They came to this wasteland mainly to support him.

Of course, there is another, more practical reason.

Lord Louis said that in the Wheatfield Territory, he would set aside a portion of land that truly belonged to him as a private reserve, and distribute it to the Red Tide Territories people who were willing to expand their territory.

It was neither wasteland nor temporary farmland, but formal private land.

“You’re here to help me develop this land, so you deserve a place here.” Louis’s words at the mobilization meeting were simple and straightforward, without any slogans, but they made people want to nod in agreement.

Because they accepted this person and believed in this promise.

Louis never spoke empty words to these commoners.

Three years ago, he stepped into that desolate place empty-handed. There were no city walls, no granaries, no guards, only an imperial decree and a few hundred refugees and slaves.

But right there, he single-handedly transformed a barren piece of land into the Red Tide Territory it is today.

They watched with their own eyes as rows of houses rose up and crops sprouted green shoots from the frozen ground...

Watching him fight while building roads, collecting grain while recruiting people, he never shirked or shirked his responsibilities.

Every promise he made eventually turned into visible smoke rising from chimneys, enough food to eat, and eaves to keep out the wind and snow.

So this time, when he stood before the valley and said he would build another "Red Tide Territory," they believed him.

Even though there's nothing here now, not even sparse tree shadows, and the wind carries frost.

But they knew that as long as they followed this young lord, even if the ground beneath their feet was frozen, they would one day be able to create a second red tide and a land where wheat fields rippled.

Moreover, the land was clearly and fairly divided, with most of it being public land owned by the lord and managed uniformly by the government.

Instead of dividing the land among themselves, Louis established a system of "labor-based land".

The government office was responsible for distributing seeds, tools, and provisions. Migrants were hired to cultivate the land and received a share based on their working hours or the results of their labor.

The produce from these fields will be used entirely for Louis's distribution and reserves of food, without entering the market or circulating, solely to support the food supply of the entire Red Tide system.

In addition to the public land, Louis also designated an extra portion of "private land".

These fields are very small, just enough for a family to grow some vegetables, sow some beans, and bury a few fruit trees.

Of course, this area cannot be rented or sold. This is the most direct form of suppression against mergers and acquisitions.

This small field was a promise Louis made to the Red Tide Aboriginal people who were willing to immigrate here.

He also promised that five years later, each family of displaced people who remained in Mai Lang Territory to build the area would also be able to own their own land.

If one contributes to road construction or disaster relief during this period, the rewards can be paid out in advance, or even exchanged for wider and more fertile farmland.

Upon hearing the news, the crowd fell silent for a moment, then, like a stone thrown into water, ripples of barely concealed excitement spread through them.

Some people had red eyes, while others smiled with pursed lips, as if they were holding their breath and not letting themselves shout it out on the spot.

"it is true."

“If we follow him, we will truly be able to have our own land.”

"Lord Louis always keeps his word."

Low murmurs arose in the fields, but no one stopped what they were doing.

Instead, the shovels landed at a faster pace, the wooden beams were carried more steadily, and even the people mixing the mud started singing as they worked.

It's not that no one is tired or cold, but everyone is working even harder.

They all knew in their hearts that this was going to happen. As long as they could get through it, as long as they could build the road, open up the fields, and plant the first batch of seeds.

Their children, their names, will be able to take root in this new land.

They didn't ask for much, nor did they crave any rewards or glory. All they wanted was a piece of land that truly belonged to them, a mouthful of food to fill their stomachs, and a lord who kept his word and could shield them from the wind and snow.

They worked hard not because they were forced, but to fulfill Louis's promise and to repay his trust.

A lord gave them land, and they were willing to give him the whole spring.

Thus, with Louis's promise and plan, the development of Wheatfield entered a period of intensive construction, with a clear division of labor.

The pioneers started with the most basic tasks: clearing the environment. They felled the twisted and overgrown fir trees in the forest, cleared away the boulders and frozen soil on the ground, and filled in animal dens, melting pits, and abandoned caves left by insect infestations.

If any decaying corpses or monster claw marks are found along the way, a special squad of knights will search for and remove them.

Every shovelful of frozen soil turned up seemed to tell them that this land no longer belonged to monsters, but to humans.

A new home is also under construction at the same time.

The "semi-underground collective dwellings" modeled after the Red Tide Territory quickly rose from the bottom of the valley.

This is a type of dwelling structure that combines heat preservation, wind protection, and rapid assembly. Its exterior resembles a series of grassy hills, while its interior is warm and compact.

With logs as the skeleton and grass and mud as the skin, the semi-underground design can keep out the biting cold of the North.

It allows light and ventilation during the day, but doesn't dissipate heat when heated at night.

For these people who had been displaced by insect plagues, these earthen mound houses were a temporary haven and the embryo of future hope.

"This is sturdier than the old house I used to live in."

"When spring comes, we'll plant some scallions and yellow-root grass at the entrance, and it will feel even more like home."

And of course, there's the water supply team, since that's the lifeline for everything.

The survey team set off early to investigate the underground water veins at the foot of the mountain and began to build a water collection pool and irrigation canal along the stream.

On one side is a water purification well specifically for drinking water, with layers of filter cloth, sand, and purification stones for protection.

On one side are planned irrigation canals that will connect the future fields and nurseries.

"This year we don't rely on the weather; we rely entirely on this irrigation system."

The road is being paved little by little.

The mountain road was leveled, and the original dirt path leading to the villages and the main road of the red tide was widened and rebuilt. A "cross axis" road was planned inside for the future development of the blocks and markets.

"This isn't just about building a shack to make a living; this is about building a city."

And so, with countless shovels, hoes and campfires, this once desolate valley is now taking shape.

Roads were built, irrigation canals were formed, and semi-subterranean dwellings emerged from the ground like mushrooms, with wooden stake fences guarding the boundaries of new life amidst wind and snow.

The people were no longer refugees fleeing famine, but a group of pioneers about to cultivate their homeland.

And it's already late March, time to start preparing for spring planting, which is the most important period of the year.

So Louis decided to hold a spring planting mobilization meeting first to motivate the people.

The temporary assemblies were a building converted from an old granary, and traces of smoke from burning insect carcasses were still visible on the rough wooden beams.

But now it has been painted with the Red Tide emblem, the windows have been replaced with new glass, and badges symbolizing the Red Tide are hung on the walls.

Before the meeting even started, people had already begun to gather.

Some were elders from various villages and communities, some were capable people transferred from the Red Tide region, some were blacksmiths, foremen, and agricultural officials, and some were farmer representatives with faces red from the cold but sitting upright.

Just as the sun shone directly into the porch, Louis Calvin entered, wearing a black cloak and carrying a sword.

He didn't let a grand procession pave the way for him; he simply walked steadily to the front of the stage, stood still, and looked at the crowd in the hall.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Louis, draped in a black cloak, walked onto the stage with steady and powerful steps.

“I know everyone is very busy,” he said with a smile, his tone steady. “Many of you have barely slept a wink in the past month.”

“Some people cleared the land, some built canals to divert water, some organized the relocation of households, and some stayed up all night drawing land deeds and household division diagrams.”

He paused for a moment, looked around the hall, and said earnestly, "But these are all things you should do, because you are the backbone of the Red Tide Territory. Most of you have followed me from the Red Tide Ruins to where I am today."

Most of the commune leaders, village chiefs, and foremen were promoted by me, one by one, from among displaced people or even slaves. We survived the insect plague and the harsh winter together. Now we stand here not for a meeting, but to begin a new round of conquest.”

No one spoke, but several pairs of eyes had already quietly reddened.

Louis raised his hand, and his adjutant behind him unfurled a roll of parchment with red stripes.

"From this moment forward, the 'Spring Ploughing Mobilization Order' is officially issued!"

His voice rose, ringing out like a sword being drawn from its sheath: "All villages and communities shall enter the spring plowing preparation state from today. The village chief shall be the first person responsible for the preparation of farmland and shall report the progress daily."

All requisitioned, labor, and materials will be given priority for agricultural use, and inspectors will be dispatched in groups to patrol the villages within three days.
A mid-term summary meeting on spring plowing will be held at the end of next month to launch three major follow-up projects: irrigation canal construction, livestock breeding, and military settlement in border fields.

Each village, each workshop, each field, each canal, each territory—this time, you will all be in charge!
I'm not here to make decisions for you; I'm here to have you lead your people and secure the first round of planting this year!

The village chiefs' faces were full of youthful excitement, eager to try, as if Louis had just issued a battle order rather than an agricultural decree.

Louis walked down the steps, slowly approached the village chief at the front, patted him on the shoulder, and then looked around at the crowd.

"I'd also like to announce something here. Starting today, all villages, communities, workshops, and administrative groups will be uniformly included in the 'performance incentive' system."

Those who meet the targets and lead the way in increasing production will receive bonuses, land allocations, and merit awards per person, and will be given priority for regular service. Those with outstanding performance may even be selected early as county officials or transferred to the main city of Chichao.

Then he changed the subject: "Anyone who is lazy, falsifies reports, embezzles, or forms cliques will be punished with reduced working hours and withheld rations, or even dismissed and exiled. No one can protect them."

The entire room fell silent; everyone knew this was no mere formality.

But then, the people below clenched their fists, their eyes filled with hope.

As everyone knows, under Louis, rules and opportunities are never just empty words.

“Let me put it more bluntly,” Louis said, slowly scanning them, his tone becoming impassioned, “Spring planting isn’t just about farming; it’s a war we wage against hunger!”

"I do not demand that every inch of your land yields grain, but I do demand that you not give up any hope."

This land is called Wheat Waves. In the future, it will be planted with wheat, to feed the entire Red Tide, and to firmly establish its foothold in the North!

"And all of this in the future depends on you!" He suddenly waved his arm, and his adjutants picked up their official badges and distributed them to the village representatives and officials one by one.

Those were wooden pieces engraved with the Red Tide emblem and village/community numbers, symbolizing:

From this day forward, this land will have someone to care for it, someone to belong to it, and someone to protect it with their life.

Many people below had red eyes and straight backs.

They are not afraid of hardship; what they fear is that no one will believe in them.

But now, the great lord Louis has staked the future of the entire Red Tide on them.

This is a mission, and also an honor.

(End of this chapter)