Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 529 - 323: Different
Chapter 529: Chapter 323: Different
In the northwest corner of Red Tide City, on Fish Workshop Street, a low yet sprawling complex emitted steam in the cold wind.
This was the Red Tide Smoked Fish Workshop, now one of the three major industries in the city.
The smoked fish produced here daily now supplies the entire Red Tide Territory and is also sold to the Southern Territory through the Calvin Commerce Association’s trade routes, even being hailed by Southern Nobles as a “rare Northern flavor,” with excellent sales.
In the final days leading up to the winter holiday, the workshop was bustling with activity.
Washing fish, gutting, marinating, hanging, and smoking—each process advanced in order, with steam and charcoal smoke intertwining into a warm mist, and the heat carrying a charred aroma spreading through the air.
On the west side of the factory, a middle-aged female worker squatted by the smokehouse, checking the temperature of the racks.
She wore a coarse cloth scarf, moving efficiently, draped in the sheepskin jacket distributed by the Red Tide Workshop, with her sleeves rolled up high, her hands marked with traces of salt and fish oil.
Her name was Haley, she was the team leader of the smoked fish workshop and one of the earliest residents of Red Tide.
Two years ago, when the Barbarian Race raided the Northern Territory, the village where Haley used to live was destroyed overnight.
She, with her ten-year-old son Weir, hid in the forest for three days but was eventually captured by slave merchants due to hunger and cold.
They were taken as goods to the Frost Halberd Market, and she had prepared herself for the worst outcome by then.
But that day, a young man with a black cloak appeared; it was Lord Louis.
Without saying a word, he bought the entire group, including her and Weir.
Not only did he buy them, but he also provided them with food, jobs, clothing, and even independent houses.
Four years have passed, and now she is a supervisor at the Red Tide Smoked Fish Workshop, considered part of the affluent class in the Red Tide Territory.
Her greatest pride is her son, who is now a personal guard knight of the Red Tide Lord.
When others mention Weir, they are full of admiration for having such an accomplished son.
There were still three or four days left until the winter holiday, and today’s schedule was still fully packed.
The young people in the factory were already counting down to the holiday, muttering about whether there would be honey in the winter supplies, and speculating whose turn it was to receive the fur boots, occasionally sneaking a taste of the smoked fish.
But Haley had no time to care about these things. She stood by the charcoal stove, keeping an eye on the temperature while skillfully adjusting the wet charcoal with tongs.
Every so often, she issued orders: “The third rack on the right, the fire is uneven.” “Replace that batch of marinade, it’s not fresh anymore.”
The fire crackled, and faint white smoke rose from the roof.
At that moment, the bell rang.
Dong!
Short and deep, yet enough to penetrate the whole city.
All the workers at the smoked fish workshop simultaneously paused their activities, some even looking up at the roof, as if they could see through the heavy wooden beams.
The second and third chimes followed closely.
“It’s three chimes!” someone whispered.
“It’s something big,” another person replied. “Could something have happened in the city?”
Haley stood by the stove, her hands pausing momentarily as a sentence Weir accidentally let slip during a meal flashed through her mind: “Madam is about to…”
Her eyes shifted slightly, excitement unable to be concealed on her oil-stained face: “Is it… Lord Louis’s child? Born?”
Just then, the sound of hooves came from outside.
A Red Tide Knight stopped his horse at the factory gate, loudly announcing: “The Lord’s son was born today! Mother and child are safe!”
As soon as his words fell, there was a moment of silence, followed by a burst of cheers.
“Born! The young master is born!”
“Wonderful, the madam is safe… God bless.”
Haley said nothing, just let out a long breath: “Finish the work at hand, then stop for the day. We’ve completed enough for today. Go early tomorrow, don’t miss the young master’s ceremony.”
……
Early the next morning, people started gathering outside Fierce Tide Square to celebrate.
It began with just a few dozen people, but in less than half an hour, it swelled into a crowd of thousands.
Carpenters brought small cradles, blacksmiths presented handmade bracelets, hunters offered freshly skinned silver fox furs, and grandmothers brought bundles of dried flowers and herbs, said to ward off evil spirits and ensure restful sleep.
Children placed their most cherished wooden carvings in the center of the square, calling them guardians of the young master’s growth.
The “blessing pile” in the center of Fierce Tide Square grew higher and higher, ultimately requiring officials to organize transport, carting them away for inventory.
Bradley reported to Louis with a complex expression: “The number of people exceeded expectations…”
Louis was silent for a moment, then donned a deep red cloak and went to the raised platform in the square.
He did not give a long speech, but simply looked at the faces gazing up at him: “I know you have come because of my newborn child, and I thank you for your blessings.”
He paused, his gaze falling on a small cloak embroidered with the sun, and said: “We have long decided his name—Orsus Calvin. It symbolizes dawn, representing the future of the Northern Territory.”
As soon as his words were spoken, genuine cheers erupted throughout Fierce Tide Square.
“Long live Orsus!”
“The dawn of the Northern Territory!”
“The heir of the Lord!”
“May the young master grow up safely!”
Haley was among the crowd, shouting as well, shouting with all her might.
Her eyes were full of fiery light, her throat parched from the cold wind, yet an unnoticed passion welled up from within her.
Not because the baby was particularly beautiful, nor because someone handed out money or food.
It was because she clearly remembered, four years ago in the slave market during winter, how she and her son Weir survived step by step.
Without Lord Louis, they would now be mere nobodies doing dirty work on some noble’s estate, perhaps having long frozen or starved to death, with no one remembering their names.
