Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 417 - 272: Autumn Harvest
Chapter 417: Chapter 272: Autumn Harvest
In the early autumn afternoon, the sun gently draped over the valley, the air mingling with the scent of ripe young wheat, carrying a hint of moist earth and the lingering aroma of smoke.
The distant mountain ridges still retained traces of summer’s greenery, but most areas had turned golden.
Louis and Emily rode together in an elegantly decorated carriage, its body reinforced with cold iron, adorned with dark red patterns and the Red Tide Emblem, steadily moving along the newly built dirt road.
On both sides of the carriage, several teams of Red Tide Cavalry escorted them, each knight had a standard military sword at his waist, their cloaks fluttering, expressions solemn, with steps matching the horse’s hooves, forming a well-trained iron army.
Battle flags unfolded in the wind, the sun of Red Tide flying wildly in the wilderness.
The carriage crossed a gentle slope, and the entire valley suddenly sprawled before the two.
Vast fields of wheat undulated under the sunlight.
The young wheat was already ripe, the heavy heads bowed down, swaying with the breeze, like waves of gold surging.
By the potato fields, a group of workers wielded pickaxes, turning over the thick tubers, rough cloth bags piled up row after row, extending all the way to the nearby wooden granary.
The greenhouse area presented another scene.
Those geothermal greenhouses arranged neatly, under the sun gleaming faint white, like silver waves stretching to the horizon.
Agricultural workers pushed out full wheelbarrows from the sheds, packed with freshly harvested wheat and just-picked vegetable leaves.
The “swish swish” of scythes cutting through wheat stems, the “bang bang” of threshing, children laughing and playing on the ridges, the road was filled with a mix of different sounds.
The carriage rumbled over the gravel road, creaking, but it was drowned out by the busy and orderly sounds.
Emily was originally leaning against the car window, chatting softly with Louis, occasionally trembling with laughter at Louis’s Imperial Capital jokes.
But as the carriage slowly turned past the hill, the entire Mai Lang Valley was revealed, she suddenly paused.
She gazed at the endless green wheat, the golden light trembling in the sun, as if the wind indeed blew from the ground, making the entire field ripple in waves.
She fell silent for a moment, a complex brightness appeared in her eyes, even the corners of her eyes tinged with a bit of red.
“Northern Territory…” she gently spoke, as if afraid to shatter this miracle before her eyes, “When has there ever been such a scene?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, just quietly watched, her fingertips tightly gripping the window ledge.
She knew Louis would do it, but when this hope presented itself so vividly in front of her, the shock still surged like a tide.
“He did it.” She silently thought, her heart warming, “He truly did it.”
Emily turned to look at the man beside her, Louis leaned against one side of the carriage, his elbow resting on the window ledge, his cloak half undone, looking much more relaxed than in the governance hall or battlefield.
Yet in his expression still remained the familiar determination, that trust which could make people entrust their lives, the innate responsibility, could never be concealed.
Louis seemed to sense her gaze, turned his head, and a smile lifted at the corner of his mouth.
“Stunned?” he said, his eyes with a hint of teasing, “These are enough to feed you, right?”
Emily gave a soft chuckle, ignoring him, gently inhaled, turned back, and her gaze fell outside the window once more.
Never expected there would be so much food, inch by inch, spread across the lands of the Northern Territory.
The carriage continued to move slowly, entering the main road that ran through the valley.
Seeing the sun emblem, along the road the farmers rose upon hearing the horse’s hooves.
“The Lord is here!” Someone shouted loudly, their voice filled with uncontrollable excitement.
In the next instant, the shout seemed to ignite a wave of heat along the entire road.
“The Lord! The Lord!”
The cheers spread like a tide, extending in waves along the avenue to the distance.
They were once people with nowhere to go, refugees fleeing famine, struggling to survive the snow and ice in the Northern Territory, but now they had land, homes, and a proper job to feed their families.
The fields they created themselves, those heavy waves of wheat, made them proud as if their own children had grown up.
And the “Lord” they were cheering for, was seated in that carriage, his steadfast and stable back resembling the foundation they now relied on.
Emily looked at the scene outside the window, holding Louis’s hand tightly, her heart warmed.
In the distance, a newly built wooden granary towered high, beside it stood a bulletin board, pasted with “Autumn Harvest List” and mobilization notices.
The carriage steadily stopped in front of the Mai Lang Governance Hall by the granary.
The new Mai Lang Governance Hall was built on high ground in the center of the valley, with open views, surrounded by endless wheat fields and granaries.
The outer walls of the hall still bore marks of newly laid stones that had not completely weathered, the blue-gray stone patterns reflecting a faint light under the sun.
The hall wasn’t luxurious, but spacious and sturdy.
The long table was made of local workshop raw wood boards, not exquisite, but neatly arranged, piled high with cultivation records, field distribution maps, and grain warehouse expansion blueprints.
Agricultural Official Mike, Overseer Green, village chiefs, workshop leaders, and Knight Captain were already present.
In front of each person was an oil paper-wrapped sketchbook and pen, their expressions tense, as if this was not just a harvest, but a battle.
At this moment, footsteps sounded at the hall entrance.
A Red Tide Knight was the first to push the door open, straightened up to salute, then retreated inside.
He didn’t speak, just swept a glance around the hall.
