Transmigrated with a Demon-Refining Pot: Hehehe, Refine in an instant

The messenger from Stone Creek Ridge arrived the next morning.

Ron recognized him; he was the one who'd been so thoroughly humiliated the other day. Today, his face was still pale, but he was bent over even more, not daring to lift his head when standing in front of Ron.

"Baron Ron, my master sent me to deliver a message."

Ron sat in the chair, a piece of bread in his hand, without looking up:

"explain!"

The messenger swallowed hard. "My master said he really didn't see the two spirit insects you lost."

"However, I am willing to give you a thousand serfs, on the condition that you guarantee in the name of your family that you will not harass Stone Creek Territory again."

Ron paused for a moment as he took a bite of bread.

He raised his head and looked at the messenger.

"A thousand serfs?"

The envoy nodded: "Yes, one thousand."

Ron put down the bread, wiped his hands, and leaned back in his chair.

"Lord Peter will give me a thousand serfs in exchange for my promise not to harass you again?" He chuckled.

"Is he trying to fob off a beggar?"

"Am I a beggar? Tell me."

The envoy turned pale and dared not reply.

Ron stood up and walked over to him.

"Go back and tell him," he said, his voice low but each word clear.

"One thousand serfs are not enough. I want two thousand."

The envoy was stunned: "Two...two thousand?"

"Two thousand." Ron looked at him.

"Two thousand serfs, fifty thousand catties of grain, and three hundred sets of farm tools. If any one of these is missing, there's no point in discussing it."

The messenger panicked: "My lord, this...this is too much..."

Ron waved his hand: "Whether it's a lot or not isn't up to you. Go back and tell that bastard Peter that his lousy plantation has four or five thousand serfs."

"What's wrong with giving me two thousand? It's not like I'm going to kill him."

"If he agrees, I will immediately vouch for him in the name of my family and be willing to restore friendly relations with Stone Creek Territory. If he doesn't agree, then the bandits in his territory should not come looking for me; let him go find his father."

The envoy was stunned.

Ron patted him on the shoulder:

"I'm easy to talk to, and I'll give face to others if they give me face. But if your master thinks he can get rid of me with just a thousand serfs, then I'll have to show him what 'not disturbing' really means."

The messenger opened his mouth, but could not utter a word.

Ron turned and walked back, leaving with the words, "I'll be waiting for your reply at this time tomorrow."

The messenger returned to report, and Peter, upon hearing the news, smashed his cup in anger.

"Two thousand serfs! Fifty thousand catties of grain! Three hundred sets of farm tools! Why doesn't he just rob them!"

The manager shrank to one side, not daring to utter a sound.

Peter paced around the study several times, gritting his teeth as he said, "Give it to him! He must vouch for it in the name of his family."

"Tell him to take his things and get out! As long as he keeps quiet for a few months, and reinforcements arrive, I'll make him pay it all back, with interest!"

The next day, the messenger came again:

"Baron Ron, my master... has agreed."

Ron raised an eyebrow: "You all agree?"

The envoy nodded, his voice trembling: "Two thousand serfs, fifty thousand catties of grain, and three hundred sets of farm tools. All agreed."

Ron was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

"That's more like it!"

"My brother Peter is indeed from a noble family; he does things decisively, unlike other poor bastards who are stingy."

The messenger lowered his head and dared not speak.

Ron waved his hand:

"Go back and tell my brother Peter to send it over as soon as possible. From now on, matters concerning Stone Creek will be my responsibility. Tell him to come to me if he has any difficulties."

The messenger agreed and was escorted away by the guards.

One day later, the first batch of serfs arrived.

Five hundred people, with their families and dressed in rags, were herded like sheep by the guards of Shixi Ridge to the border of Hewan Territory.

Ron went to pick him up personally.

He rode on his horse, looking at the serfs, feeling a sense of satisfaction.

The lead guard handed over a list: "Your Excellency, this is the first batch, five hundred men. Food and farm tools will arrive later."

Ron took the list, glanced at it, and nodded.

"Go back and tell my older brother to hurry up. There's still 1,500 left, don't delay."

The guard acknowledged and left with his men.

Ron looked at the serfs and said to Palin beside him:

"Take them back and handle them according to the old rules. Let them report on each other, and send any troublemakers to make bricks. The rest will be distributed to the various villages to fill vacancies."

Palin agreed and got to work.

Over the next few days, more serfs were delivered.

The second batch of five hundred, the third batch of five hundred, and the fourth batch of five hundred. By the fifth day, all two thousand serfs had arrived.

Grain and farm tools were also delivered one after another, and piled up in the manor's warehouse, filling it to the brim.

Perrin was extremely busy every day, settling serfs, tallying supplies, and overseeing the resumption of work at the saltworks.

Ron visited twice. The chimneys of the saltworks were already smoking, and dozens of large pots were boiling brine day and night, with bags of snow-white refined salt being carried out one by one.

"Sir, the saltworks have returned to normal," Perrin reported.

"The daily output is around 300 catties, and it can be increased in a few days as the number of serfs increases."

Ron nodded: "Yes, increase mining. Don't worry about a slow and steady approach; cash is the most important thing for us."

"How are the serfs being resettled?"

"We divided it into six villages, replenished the old villages, and opened four new small villages." Perrin opened the account book.

"There were over two hundred troublemakers, who were sent to make bricks as you instructed. The rest were all obedient and were sent to dig irrigation ditches."

Such a large commotion between the two territories naturally could not be kept secret from the surrounding lords.

Boris is very irritable lately.

Everything was developing as he had envisioned: spreading news about the salt mine, concealing the strength of the River Bend Territory, and provoking the surrounding lords to target the salt mine.

Then Ron was exhausted from dealing with the situation and finally found an opportunity to ambush him.

But to everyone's surprise, Ron gave up on the salt mine altogether.

After Peter seized the salt mine, a high-ranking knight's squire died inexplicably. This puzzled Boris.

How exactly did Ron manage to take down a high-ranking opponent?

Relying on scheming and trickery? High-level enemies aren't that easy to kill.

Boris felt a vague unease and couldn't help but think the worst.

But I just can't understand why, if the River Bend really had two high-ranking knight squires, there was no need to tolerate him in the first place.

Boris didn't consider speculating that it was Ron, since intelligence indicated that Ron was a mid-level knight squire who had just broken through to the next level this year.

At this moment, Elise Bauhinia walked up to him. This was Boris's wife, the daughter of Earl Bauhinia.

She was extremely beautiful, with porcelain-white skin typical of a white aristocratic lady, and her eyebrows and eyes were graceful with slightly upturned ends, giving her a charming look even when she wasn't smiling.

Her long, golden hair was loosely tied up, with a few stray strands falling to the side of her neck. She wore a fitted purple brocade dress with a neckline that was just right, revealing her delicate collarbone, which swayed gently as she walked.

Simply put, she's beautiful and has big breasts!

Looking at the stunning woman before him, Boris felt incredibly fortunate to have married such a beautiful, noble, intelligent, and capable aristocratic lady.

Unfortunately...

"What's wrong? Is something bothering you in the territory?" Elise asked softly.

"It's nothing. There are just some things I can't figure out," Boris told her, expressing his confusion.

Elise laughed and said, "Go ask the Earl of Stony Brook. He himself will surely know the answer. If he refuses to tell you, then that's the worst-case scenario you're guessing."

"Alright, it won't take much effort anyway," Boris affirmed.