Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 516 - 316: Mai Lang Festival Celebration (Part 3)
Chapter 516: Chapter 316: Mai Lang Festival Celebration (Part 3)
At that moment, the entire valley fell silent for half a second, followed by a fervent and extreme shout:
“Lord Louis!!!”
“Long live Louis!!!”
“Red Tide!! Red Tide!! Red Tide!!!”
Every face illuminated by the firelight, some were smiling, some were crying, but everyone was looking up at the person standing on the high platform.
Not because Louis was so strong, but because they knew he would always hang over the territory like the sun.
After the cheers, night fell completely, but the light of the fire tower burned even brighter.
On the south side of the plaza, in the soup tent area, a winding queue had already formed.
Every pot was stewing hot soup of different flavors: green wheat beef soup, salted lamb mushroom pot, milk-braised assorted vegetable stew…
The fragrance wafted through the air, constantly tantalizing everyone’s stomach.
“Line up this way! Kids can cut the line, old man come over here!”
“Add another scoop! No need to save today, plenty for everyone!”
The villagers, holding wooden bowls and pottery cups, laughed and shouted, sweat and smiles intertwined.
On the other side, more than a dozen large tables were already filled with hot stewed beef bones, roasted lamb legs, and freshly baked green wheat biscuits. Red Tide soldiers patrolled and maintained order, ensuring distribution was orderly.
Initially, not everyone could fully relax, such as the residents who had just joined Red Tide Territory this year.
A middle-aged man stood by the pot, looking at the large pieces of rolling beef, hesitating to move forward.
“This… this is really for us to eat?” he murmured softly, “And no charge?”
His elderly mother behind him whispered, “Such a big pot, so much meat, this wine, this meal… never seen these given to us common folks before.”
“It just feels… too extravagant.” He finished this sentence, and suddenly the scene of his family surviving last year’s snow disaster with moss soup flashed before his eyes.
“If it weren’t for Lord Louis, where would we have this year?”
Then he recalled the village chief’s words, shook his head sharply, and dismissed the thought of extravagance.
“We can afford to eat well! This isn’t given for free, it’s earned with our scythes and shovels!”
Then he downed the beef soup, burning and savory, almost bringing tears to his eyes.
On the high platform, representatives from the first ten villages were conducting a uniquely meaningful toasting ceremony.
Each holding a bowl of wine, they lined up and bowed, presenting gifts handcrafted by the village women to Louis: a golden wheat crown, a red-bordered cape, a braided sash… Although coarsely made, each was full of sincerity.
“This is made by our village… not luxurious, but we hope you accept it.”
“We are full, and the children are full too.”
Louis accepted each one without refusing, as these were all tokens of the villagers’ goodwill.
Then he drank a cup of green wheat wine with each person, finishing it in one go.
A loud cheer erupted again from below the stage.
At this moment, a few children excitedly jumped onto the main stage, innocent yet unafraid, and spontaneously performed a little play titled “Lord Louis Brought Us Food.”
They sang and danced, their actions exaggerated and comical, the lyrics simple yet innocent:
“Lord Louis brought us to farm~ there are mushroom slices in the beef stew~ kids are no longer hungry, and the elderly are warm~ Red Tide Territory is truly a treasure~ Lord Louis brought us food~!”
The firelight shone on their joyful faces, their voices echoed in the valley, accompanied by the scent of hot soup and the aftertaste of wheat fields.
Below the stage, laughter erupted, even the knights couldn’t help but laugh.
Louis watched the group of children performing earnestly, his face showing a rare relaxed smile.
Initially, only a few children were singing for fun, but it was unclear who first joined in, and gradually more and more people began to hum along.
The tune was off-key, the rhythm uneven, but the lyrics were simple, the melody catchy, and it gradually spread through the entire valley plaza.
“…Red Tide Territory is truly a treasure~ Lord Louis brought us food~!”
In the firelight, someone raised a glass, someone danced, children ran in circles, and the elders gently nodded, swaying their shoulders to the beat.
Even the Red Tide knights were infected and clapped along with the rhythm.
This was not a noble ball, nor a church blessing ceremony.
This was a true folk festival, a feast of the land, a celebration of hard work.
