HTLCCBFT Chapter 40

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 40

For the citizens of Laina City, this day was destined to be the most extraordinary one.

Though it was still early—well before the third bell that would permit the serfs in the fields to cease work and return home for lunch—the castle gates swung open.

Under the bewildered gazes of the slaves, the creaking of wooden wheels echoed as castle servants, clad in clean clothes that would have once been the envy of their former selves, filed out in an orderly procession.

Their faces bore no particular expression, not even the usual arrogance they displayed.

Yet none of the slaves paid that any mind.

What truly stunned them was that, aside from the stern and imposing butler Fosse—whose dignified presence alone, even as he stood quietly by the gate, was enough to unsettle anyone—every servant who emerged was pushing a peculiarly shaped wooden cart laden with food!

There were golden corn kernels, freshly sliced fish sprinkled with a light dusting of salt, flour, green vegetables, large basins of dark bread, and even several precious baskets of eggs recently laid by the hens…

Was all this food meant to be sold?

Their minds went blank, and they stood frozen in place, utterly dumbfounded.

The supervisors, suppressing their own pangs of distress, bellowed impatiently, “You lazy wretches, form lines and come collect your food!”

Collect food!

That was their food!

Upon hearing this astonishing news—enough to jolt anyone to attention—the slaves’ first reaction was not to form lines, but to turn their eyes in unison toward the golden-haired figure still toiling in the fields.

The beautiful lord’s slender arms were carrying a shockingly large water jug.

Everyone could imagine how heavy it must be when filled with water—so burdensome that even the sturdiest slave would struggle to lift it.

Yet now, it was being carried by their kind and gentle lord, who stood alone in the fields, performing labor that should have been the slaves’ duty!

Those inside the castle remained unaware of the turmoil raging in the slaves’ hearts.

In the eyes of those who considered themselves superior to ordinary freemen, slaves were worth less than livestock: this was not merely an insult hurled at the slaves, but a widely acknowledged fact.

Across the vast territory of Laina, the number of cattle and horses was pitifully small, and they bore the crucial responsibility of pulling heavy plows for tilling the land.

Buying a robust ox capable of pulling a heavy plow cost a full 10 gold coins; horses were even more expensive—even an inferior nag, occasionally brought to the market by merchants from other regions, required a full 20 gold coins!

As for the twelve fine steeds Lord Oliver had brought from the royal capital, their value was beyond imagination: these majestic horses, gifted by the old king to his beloved youngest son, were worth at least 3,000 gold coins each.

However, these horses of undeniable noble lineage, even if Lord Oliver did not mind, were only occasionally ridden by knights for exercise and maintaining stamina—they were entirely unsuitable for pulling plows in the fields.

During times of famine, slaves—so cheap that several could be bought for a single silver coin—were replaced in large numbers every winter. How could they possibly compare to expensive livestock?

The servants inwardly lamented the food they were distributing, never imagining that these lowly, dust-like slaves could possess such complex emotions. The cook Xavier was also facing so many slaves for the first time.

Thinking about having to teach them how to make soup next, aside from feeling somewhat peculiar, he was mostly nervous.

Eggs were such a rare delicacy that even he seldom got to eat them—was it really necessary to teach slaves how to make soup using such expensive ingredients?

Whenever this doubt surfaced, he couldn’t help but recall the words the Lord had spoken yesterday.

“Though not every household can receive eggs this time, in the near future, Laina citizens will surely not lack eggs to eat.”

What an unbelievably wonderful person.

Xavier thought.

Even though those words sounded so naive and simple, almost like a fantasy… they made him unable to resist believing them.

After this somewhat experienced cook finally calmed himself down and, with slightly trembling hands, finished demonstrating the soup-making in front of everyone, he followed the Lord’s instructions and distributed the large pot of soup to the dozen or so slaves who had done the heaviest labor.

The slaves wept silently, drinking the corn and egg drop soup very, very slowly.

Then it was time for them to take turns receiving ingredients.

Corn kernels were the most plentiful—everyone could receive a small bag, enough to last each slave for over half a month!

Apart from corn kernels, everything else was distributed by household: of course, the eggs, being the scarcest, weren’t even enough for one per household and were only given to those families deemed “outstanding.”

For example, those who completed the construction of toilets the fastest and with the best quality, those who contributed the most to filling the sewage river, or those responsible for the largest areas in weeding and watering the fields.

Slaves!

But these were eggs!

Apart from those in the castle, such food was a luxury that only commoners could occasionally enjoy in the past—now it was actually being given to slaves!

Under the impatient urging of the stewards, the slaves, standing there dazed, came forward to collect the food with expressions that seemed almost reluctant.

They wiped their tears as they received the items, which only angered the stewards who didn’t understand the situation.

What were these hateful lazy wretches doing?

Even they, who could be considered upper-class, had never tasted such delicious soup in their lives!

Yet the generous and benevolent Lord not only provided the ingredients but also had the cook teach them how to make such wonderful soup… and these slaves actually had the nerve to wear mournful expressions—it was so detestable that words couldn’t even describe their ingratitude!

“Do these lowly slaves dare to be dissatisfied?” they muttered to themselves.

Under normal circumstances, they would have whipped them without hesitation, but now no one dared to beat the slaves without cause.

Only Ed, the supervisor who could be considered relatively friendly with the slaves, grew curious. While distributing the corn kernels, he found someone to ask: “Under the protection of the great Cat God and the noble Lord, you’ve been given holidays and food… Why do you seem so sorrowful?”

“May the Cat God bless you, Sir Ed.”

The slave who was asked replied dejectedly: “We just… seeing that noble and beautiful lord working on our behalf while we receive without labor, it’s just… it’s just…”

“Ah.”

Hearing this, Ed’s mood also grew heavy.

By the Cat God above, Ed dared not harbor any disrespectful thoughts toward the Cat God.

Ed silently prayed in his heart. However… as far as he knew, almost all Laina citizens unanimously believed that the great and wise Cat God was willing to show mercy even to the lowliest slaves, yet was exceptionally harsh toward the most wonderful Angel Duke.

But the Angel Duke was the only one blessed with divine favor.

Meanwhile, Oliver, toiling in the fields, remained completely unaware that his standard practice of “being lenient with others but strict with himself” had unfairly saddled the innocent Cat God with the reputation of “being too severe toward the divinely favored.”

The cornfield was so vast that even with his game system-enhanced body—which only consumed energy without feeling genuine fatigue or the weight of the watering can—it still took considerable time.

Just walking along the ridges for one round in such a large cornfield would take nearly half a day.

Not to mention that watering required charging up to irrigate several plants at once… and after every 85 plants, he had to turn back to refill the watering can from the ditch before continuing.

After seven or eight trips to and from the river, the sun had fully risen, and the heat was becoming noticeable.

It was probably around 10 in the morning.

Fortunately, the system crops weren’t particular about irrigation timing—as long as they were watered that day, it counted toward their growth cycle.

So Oliver decided to pause for now, leaving the half-watered field to take Lucy and the others to release the chickens.

Unbeknownst to him—almost the moment he left the field—the slaves who had been watching the area fixed their eager eyes on the unwatered dry patches.

When the familiar figure finally appeared, the three who had been obediently waiting against the wall immediately brightened, stood up excitedly, and even took a few steps toward the Lord: “May the Cat God bless you, Lord!”

“Hmm.” Oliver’s focus was entirely on the chicks in the new coop. “How did things go last night?”

This was the first night the chicks had spent in the new coop on the pastureland, and he hoped everything had gone smoothly.

“Very peaceful, respected sir,” Lucy gave the answer Oliver most wanted to hear. “Though the feed and water troughs are set up, only half the feed has been placed for now, and the water trough is full.”

“Good.”

Oliver nodded with satisfaction.

The first one to two weeks of gradually releasing the chicks into the pastureland were a critical transition period for successful free-ranging, and he had to oversee it personally.

While frequent feed supplementation was necessary, it shouldn’t be done too early or too generously.

In the warm early summer, the chicks’ appetite peaked in the morning and evening: if they were fed to fullness at these times, they could easily develop a lazy habit of waiting for handouts instead of actively exploring and foraging further in the pasture.

Of course, the chickens shouldn’t be released immediately at dawn either: firstly, the temperature and light were insufficient, and secondly, the chicks needed time to acclimate to their new surroundings after waking in an unfamiliar place.

Just as Lucy and the other two waited with a mix of nervousness and anticipation for the wise Lord’s next instructions, Oliver suddenly remembered something, and his beautiful blue eyes turned toward them: “Have you had lunch yet?”

Or more accurately, brunch… but for Laina citizens, as long as there was food, they didn’t care what the meal was called.”Um,” Lucy was taken aback by the unexpected question, pausing briefly before answering nervously, “Lord, not yet.”

Since today was a holiday for commoners and slaves, the only busy people were those in the castle… And to distribute food to others, butler Fosse had specifically instructed the kitchen to prepare meals early for the servants in the castle.

But having not done any work today and still preoccupied with the important matter of transitioning the chicks into free-range, how could they possibly have eaten?

“…….sigh”

Oliver had only asked casually, never expecting these three honest souls to have eaten nothing while waiting here blankly for him.

He glanced helplessly at the ever-present butler: “Fosse.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Fosse bowed his head respectfully, then expressionlessly looked at the three who thought they had done something wrong and were utterly terrified: “Why aren’t you going yet?”

If the people of the territory regarded the beautiful Lord with divine-like worship and affection, then facing the imposing butler was like mice encountering a cat – an instinctive fear.

Lucy and the others shuddered, stammered their thanks, and hurried off to the kitchen.

— Meanwhile, the smiling Lord took advantage of their absence to efficiently pet each of the fluffy, adorable chicks still in the chicken coop.

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