King of the North: My Lord's Diary Weekly Summary

When Wayne returned to the southeastern outpost camp, the setting sun had already painted the woodland a golden-red hue.

The campsite looked different from when we left in the morning.

Several wooden huts that were just frames yesterday now have walls erected and roofs covered with thick hay and branches. Although simple, they can now barely keep out the wind and snow.

On the open ground, new foundations were being laid, and the locals and soldiers responsible for the construction were still busy. The sounds of labor and slogans seemed particularly lively in the cold air.

This is the accommodation that Wayne has prepared for the villagers to spend the winter, and it will also be an important warehouse for the territory next year—he still wants to build the main castle on the cliff.

However, these are all tasks for next year.

"My lord, you're back."

Wright emerged from behind an unfinished wooden hut, looking travel-worn but exhausted.

"You've worked hard, how's it going?"

Wayne dismounted and handed the reins to the soldiers who came to greet him.

"The land reclamation team is progressing faster than expected. They have already cleared about ten acres of land in the northeast."

Wright pointed to the faint outline in the twilight in the distance: "The soil is better than expected. It's black soil underneath, but there are more gravel on the surface."

In our team, there was a cook named Old Tam who knew a lot about farming.

He said that now is the perfect time to plow the land; after a long winter, the soil will be looser and more fertile in the spring.

Ten acres may not sound like much, but on this frozen land in the North, the progress made by these dozens of people clearing it by hand in a single day was beyond Wayne's expectations.

More importantly, this will be a "self-operated camp" that belongs entirely to him and is directly controlled by him.

"How is public enthusiasm?"

Wien asked.

"very good."

Wright's answer was affirmative: "We did as you said at the beginning, and every household that participated in the work was recorded with work points."

Before finishing work today, each household received nearly half a pound of coarse salt—not much, but every household had some.

In addition, the iron farm tools that were promised to be allocated to them have been inventoried from the plan and will be distributed tomorrow.

He paused, then added, "Everyone is very enthusiastic. Especially when they saw the real salt being distributed, and those brand-new ironware... many people's eyes lit up."

Several elderly farmers told me privately that they had never used such a handy iron tool in their entire lives.

Wayne nodded.

Tangible incentives are always more effective than empty promises. Salt and iron, these guarantees of survival, will always be the hard currency of this land.

He glanced at them from afar and saw the vitality of the people working—a yearning for a prosperous life and an initial recognition of him as their lord.

"Well done, Wright."

Wayne stopped and looked at the composed knight: "I'm very confident in entrusting logistics and construction to you."

Next, we will continue to proceed as planned, and the houses need to be habitable as soon as possible—more and more people are arriving now, and we must ensure that everyone has a place to stay to keep warm before winter; the clearing of farmland cannot be stopped either.

Also, starting tomorrow, organize people to set up several lookout points around the camp. You and Ronald can discuss the specific locations.

"Understood, sir."

Wright nodded solemnly; he had noticed the bloodstains on Ronald's body long ago.

"in addition."

Wayne thought for a moment: "Take a look among the people to see if there are any who have worked as miners or are familiar with excavation projects."

Inquire privately, but don't make a fuss.

A knowing glint flashed in Wright's eyes. Without asking further questions, he simply replied, "Yes."

Then, Wright took out a roll of rough, bound paper from his pocket: "There's one more thing."

In the afternoon, a man from the village named Gordon sent this letter, specifically addressed to you.

Wayne raised an eyebrow and took the scrap paper.

The paper was rough with frayed edges, but it was rolled very neatly.

This is the paper commonly used by commoners in the Byron Kingdom—far inferior to the parchment of the central government and the plant fiber paper of the previous life.

He didn't open the letter immediately and asked, "What did the messenger say?"

"He didn't say anything, just left the letter and left. He seemed very cautious."

Wright answered.

Wayne tucked the letter into his pocket: "I understand, you can go ahead and do your work."

Oh, and tell everyone to eat early and get some rest; we'll have to work hard tomorrow.

"Yes."

Stepping into the wooden hut that served as his temporary residence, he found a brazier already lit, which dispelled the chill inside.

Mia quietly prepared hot water and clean towels.

Wayne quickly wiped his face and hands, waved away the others, and then sat down by the brazier, unwrapping the roll of straw paper.

As expected, the letter began with flattering and respectful platitudes, praising Wayne's "wisdom" and "kindness".

But then came the prototype of the economic entries that Wayne needed, entries that fit the village's situation.

Among them, there were indeed a few solutions that caught Wayne's eye.

For example, Gordon suggested linking the exchange of "lord-owned goods" such as salt and ironware to the payment of specific labor services and specific crops and resources, and gave several exchange ratios that he believed were "both affordable for the villagers and bring stable income to the lord."

Putting aside the nauseating flattery, this approach does have some merit.

It took into account the villagers' existing habits and capacity to bear the burden, without proposing radical changes that could easily provoke conflict, while at the same time being able to establish a basic economic control system for the lord without causing too much backlash, ensuring basic tax revenue and the flow of goods.

Gordon, as one of the village's wealthiest residents and its de facto "accountant," was clearly well-versed in the village's assets and operations.

Moreover, he was very clever; in designing the management team, he suggested that it be jointly managed by himself and someone appointed by Wayne.

Wayne picked up his charcoal pencil and, by the light of the fire, wrote a few lines of annotations in the blank space at the edge of the letter.

He circled several exchange ratios, believing that the profit margin Old Gordon left him could be "optimized" a bit more—not by squeezing him out more, but by guiding the villagers' behavior through a more refined tiered exchange system, especially encouraging land reclamation and obedience to conscription.

Wayne pointed out that the two managers need to actively compile and organize exchange information, and all exchange records need to be posted publicly on a regular basis to prevent fraud and rumors.

In addition, he added that he suggested including "participation in militia patrols" and "design of daily necessities and other products" in the category of "labor service" that can be exchanged for scarce materials such as salt and iron, and giving them a higher exchange weight.

This is both a prelude to the future formation of the militia and the development of light industry, and a form of indirect mobilization and incentive.

After writing his annotations, Wayne folded the letter.

That old Gordon is very efficient and knows how to choose sides—this letter should have already been on its way before he established his authority by killing someone at the village entrance this afternoon.

It seems that, like the carpenter Maurice, he probably stayed up all night and weighed the options repeatedly before making his choice.

However, Wayne did not intend to give him any substantial or unexpected reward.

At best, it only affirms the entry "he was one of the managers".

the reason is simple.