HTLCCBFT Chapter 45

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 45

The banquet hosted by Duke Oliver featured neither performances by bards or beautiful dancers nor extravagant, glittering balls—hardly fitting for a duke’s usual pomp and circumstance. Yet it could be described as thoroughly enjoyable for both host and guests.

The merchants were extremely satisfied.

Not only had they met the beautiful Lord and tasted unimaginably delicious food… but a few fortunate ones who spoke up first had even received a jar of pickled corn as a reward from His Grace the Duke!

Bathed in the envious gazes of their peers, those led by Kondiment were particularly smug, their faces flushed with pride.

Although they couldn’t immediately purchase large quantities of pickled corn, they had at least “reserved” the goods: despite never having tried such an arrangement before, Kondiment readily agreed to place his trust in such a generous and kind Lord, paying a deposit of one hundred gold coins all at once.

He strode back to his inn in high spirits, preparing to depart the next day.

Similarly benefiting from an unexpected business deal was the grain merchant Wheet[mfn]维特; like ‘wheat'[/mfn].

Among all who came to Laina City’s Summer Market this time, aside from the incredibly lucky chicken vendor Hahn, Wheet had arguably the best business: after years of consecutive famine, any freemen with leftover savings seized every opportunity to buy grain.

Moreover, of the four major annual markets, the Summer Market was widely known for having the lowest grain prices.

By the time the Winter Market arrived, grain prices would multiply several times over.

The deposit received from the spice merchant Kondiment for the pickled corn hadn’t even warmed in Oliver’s hands before he had Fosse summon the grain vendor Wheet and cattle dealer Cao to spend it all.

Wheet had carefully calculated beforehand and hadn’t brought an excessive amount of goods.

Yet it turned out he had overestimated the purchasing power of the Lainans… nearly half of his stock remained!

Wheet had resigned himself to transporting the unsold grain seeds back, never expecting such a sudden turn of events—the Lord, who had only made a brief appearance at the Summer Market, actually ordered through the butler to purchase all his remaining seeds at the standard price!

Oliver had already made plans.

The powerful assistance provided by the game system was, of course, not to be easily abandoned.

But it could only serve as supplementary support; he couldn’t stake Laina City’s future entirely on it.

In his vision, he would formally divide Laina City’s farmland into two categories going forward: aside from the distinctions between fallow land, pastureland, and cultivated land, half would be dedicated to growing crops provided by the system, while the other half would be reserved for ordinary crops.

However, his timing was unfortunate—he had completely missed the spring planting, so the summer planting was conducted in great haste.

He had only managed to focus on the cornfields he personally cleared and sowed, paying little attention to the potato and vegetable fields planted by other slaves using traditional methods.

Tomorrow, he should go take a look after all, Oliver thought.

Although his knowledge of other crops was also quite limited, it was undoubtedly far superior to that of the serfs, who could only rely on their limited experience.

In his view, this was actually his responsibility: since the farmland allocated to the serfs was destined to shrink in the future, he ought to help them…Carefully planning the mix of crop varieties and maximizing land efficiency had become an urgent priority.

This way, even if the game system were to fail one day, the crops from the other half of the fields alone could sustain the entire Laina City.

With this thought, Oliver walked to the window, gazing down at the crisscrossing shadows of the ridges under the cold white moonlight, then looked further into the distance at the bright bonfires and the figures singing and dancing around them.

When Fosse returned to the hall after completing his young master’s task, this was the scene he encountered.

His young master had his eyes closed, leaning back casually against the wooden window frame.

His golden hair, freed from cumbersome jewelry, fell loosely, covering the beautiful collarbones that were no longer hidden by the silk shirt after the top three buttons were undone.

In the moonlight illuminating his profile, Fosse could clearly see the gentle upward curve of his young master’s lips, softly humming, while his slender fingers tapped rhythmically and lightly on the windowsill.

It was as if an elegant, languid angel sat among the clouds, playing serene and beautiful celestial music on instruments formed of stars, harmonizing with the earthly songs carried by the evening breeze.

Fosse’s gaze wavered for a moment, and then an overwhelming ache filled his heart.

How hateful! If not for that damned, despicable, cruel patricide and fratricide, his beloved young master should have been living the most noble life free of worries every day, with his greatest concern being whether to attend tonight’s court ball.

He would never have fallen to such a state!

Not only enduring the harsh trials of the Gods, but also exhausting himself with overly kind care for those lowly slaves?

Oliver was unaware of the pain his loyal butler was silently enduring.

Even from quite a distance, he could hear and faintly see the lively singing and dancing around the bonfires.

Given that slaves rarely lived to adulthood, and those who did seldom reached middle or old age, these people, aged prematurely by constant exposure and hard labor, were in essence still young at heart.

Long-suppressed emotions, numbed into oblivion, had only recently begun to find release.

At the start of the bonfire celebration, everyone had been hesitant and restrained, only singing and dancing because they earnestly accepted the “punishment” from the Cat God.

Joy is always more infectious than sorrow, and laughter seemed to spread like a contagion.

At first, they smiled reservedly, but as they grew bolder, they began to dance freely… and discussions arose about the varying quality of the performances.

Oliver noticed that occasionally, when someone gave a particularly impressive performance, it would draw enthusiastic applause and cheers.

The performer, in turn, would become excited and jump about with even more energy.

Even the worst performances, in such a joyful atmosphere, only elicited good-natured laughter, and the person would be playfully chased off to drink some soup.

Oliver listened with his eyes closed for a long time, until Fosse arrived.

Since Fosse hadn’t spoken, Oliver opened his eyes and looked at his reliable butler with a smile. “Fosse?”

“…Your Highness.”

Fosse gazed steadily into his young master’s eyes, which shone brighter than the stars in the sky, suppressing the dull ache in his heart: “Would you like to go take a look?”

Even the slaves, who ought to be living in misery, had gained laughter and joy due to His Highness’s benevolence.

Yet the one who should be surrounded by luxury and splendor—His Highness—remained in the cold, desolate castle, quietly and alone, watching everything below.

“Hmm?” Oliver was momentarily taken aback. “Are you referring to the bonfire celebration below?”

Fosse nodded slightly. “Yes, Your Highness. Although those crude performances are not worthy of—”

“Fosse.” Oliver chuckled softly, interrupting him gently but firmly. “I believe that happiness, no matter what form it takes, is always worth cherishing.

Seeing others wear smiles they’ve never had before because of one’s efforts… that is a joy that fills one with a sense of accomplishment.”

“Your Highness is right.”

Fosse agreed without hesitation to the words of his beloved young master.

“As for going to see it,” Oliver said with a smile, “there’s no need. Watching from here for a while is quite enough for me.”

He was naturally someone who enjoyed lively atmospheres and actually had quite an interest in joining in the fun.

But whether as the lord, Divine Messenger, or duke, the moment he appeared before the crowd, he would instantly draw everyone’s attention.

That carefree joy would then become cautious and restrained, ultimately lost entirely.

“But,” Fosse looked at his young master with a pained heart, whose expression was innocently joyful yet unable to conceal his loneliness, “the castle might be too quiet… Should we call some people over?”

If they were still in the royal capital, who knew how many would vie tirelessly, using every means to please His Highness!

Oliver glanced at Fosse in puzzlement. “Of course not.”

Although it was a pity not to experience such a lively atmosphere, after a busy day, he rather enjoyed the current peace and quiet.

Seeing Fosse still looking worried, Oliver couldn’t help but smile gently and said in a soft voice, “Fosse, the moon’s radiance comes from the sun. But would people think the moon unnecessary just because they already have the brighter sun?”

Fosse answered without hesitation, “Of course not, Your Highness.”

Whether the sun or the moon, both held irreplaceable beauty.

“I think so too.” The lord’s gaze shifted from Fosse’s expression back to the distant, bustling crowd, still filled with utmost gentleness. “Such liveliness, relaxation, and joy are almost within my easy reach. But for them, it might be the first time in their lives.”

Light and shadow are always relative, yet they coexist.

If the castle were to become lively, the first taste of happiness the slaves could savor would vanish.

Fosse listened quietly, intently gazing at his young master’s profile, illuminated by the moonlight into unparalleled softness and beauty, as if contemplating a graceful, holy, serene, and gentle statue of God.

It was a purity of heart that could make anyone feel ashamed of their own inadequacy.

He certainly understood what Oliver meant to convey.

It was precisely because of the castle’s quiet desolation that the joy and liveliness below could exist.He inexplicably recalled how during the day, the slaves had united to complete the irrigation work the young master had left half-finished—even at the risk of defying the Cat God’s oracle and facing severe punishment.

It wasn’t due to brutal whippings or fear of harsh penalties, nor was it because of the superficial infatuation and admiration those former nobles had shown toward the young master.

Rather, it was a pure, intense, and devout emotion.

Such slaves were unfamiliar, yet not repulsive.

How incredible.

Fosse slightly lifted his chin, his face still stern, but he couldn’t help thinking…

…He actually seemed to gain some genuine understanding of His Highness’s methods.

Oliver had merely chatted casually with the butler for a few words, never expecting it would truly make the stubborn butler reconsider his views on the slaves.

His thoughts had already shifted elsewhere: “Although tomorrow is a day off for the castle servants, some positions really can’t find temporary replacements right now.”

Especially for the chicks in their critical free-range transition period—arbitrarily changing caretakers would be a major taboo in poultry farming.

It ultimately came down to insufficient staffing: before the next holiday, they must arrange enough rotating personnel for all key positions.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” Oliver decided to offer them an additional option. “Those who want to take leave can go home directly after tonight’s work and rest the entire day tomorrow. If they voluntarily give up their holiday, they’ll receive five extra copper coins as compensation added to this month’s pay.”

Although monthly wages for castle servants varied greatly, five copper coins was undoubtedly an amount that would make everyone’s heart race.

Moreover, with such a benevolent and reasonable lord, their workload was already light, so they didn’t particularly crave time off anyway.

After all, the expense of buying up the remaining seeds from Wheet wouldn’t use up all hundred gold coins—not only would it be enough to purchase three adult cows from cattle dealer Cao, but there would even be some left over.

Just enough to distribute as overtime pay to the castle servants.

Oliver thought: as an employer who pays double—no, triple—wages for holiday overtime, he probably couldn’t be considered a heartless boss, right?

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