Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 668 - 385: The First Breath of Spring in Cold Sand Territory (Part 2)
Chapter 668: Chapter 385: The First Breath of Spring in Cold Sand Territory (Part 2)
Holder’s breathing, which had just calmed down a bit, was thoroughly disturbed again as he stared at the booklet, as if looking at some kind of forbidden magic.
Pete opened the directory, allowing him to clearly see rows of items: Federation fine cloth, forged steel sword, gems, glass goblets…
These are high-priced items that only the great nobility can afford to use.
Holder was completely ignited: “This… these are things I never even dared to imagine before! Pete, can I buy this set of glass cups? Can I also buy this sword? Even this alchemy gemstone castle?”
“You are the Lord of Cold Sand, naturally you can buy them,” Pete’s tone remained calm, “The Red Tide Commerce Association has them in stock. Discounts have also been reserved for you.”
Holder seemed to be struck by lightning for the second time, standing up from his chair: “Lord Louis… Lord Louis is the one who truly changes the Northern Territory! I used to even… ah, how foolish I am!”
He began to incoherently fantasize: “I will replace the entire set of tableware in the banquet hall with a new glass set! And order a Federation cloak for the lady… no, two! The children must have one too! The Cold Sand Territory must gain respectability!”
Pete saw that he was completely immersed in the imagination of gold coins and a bright future, and then added: “Lord, Red Tide hopes that Cold Sand Territory can host the spring festival locally this year, to enjoy with the people.”
This is an important step of Red Tide cultural integration, to make Cold Sand Territory integrate into the system faster.
But such words, Pete need not tell Holder.
And Holder didn’t have the mindset to think about deeper reasons, upon hearing it was a celebration, he slapped the table, shaking the gold slightly: “Do it! It must be done! Our Cold Sand Territory must show its atmosphere!”
Pete nodded: “I will write your reply into today’s report.”
Holder nodded quickly: “Write it, write it, you must let Lord Louis see the sincerity of Cold Sand Territory!”
……
Today is the official day of Red Tide’s spring festival.
The morning fog of Cold Sand Territory still wrapped around the gray stone fortress walls, but the persistent chill that lingered in the stone crevices and alleyways seemed to be driven away by some kind of warmth rising from the people’s hearts.
At the crack of dawn, the main street was no longer winter’s dead silence.
No one knows which blacksmith shop first hung up a deep red flag with a golden sun emblem.
Soon after, like some silent command spreading across town, households hung wooden plaques painted with sun emblems on their wooden doors, or tied bright red linen strips.
Looking around, among the gray stone walls and leftover snow, the bright Red Tide red appeared like flickering flames, thoroughly igniting the small border town.
White steam rose from large iron pots set beside the street, containing oatmeal and meat soup specially prepared for the festival.
Though there’s not much meat, the scent of lard and herbs seeped through the breeze into every window crease of each household.
“Hot! Freshly baked rye loaf! Spiced! Thanks to the generosity of Lord Louis!”
The peddler’s cries broke the morning tranquility, carrying the unique festive cheer.
The old baker who usually huddled his neck and wore a bitter expression today stood with his back straight.
He wore an apron around his waist and had a rough iron Red Tide sun badge pinned to his chest, distributed by the Red Tide aid officer a few days ago, polished brightly with grease.
His stand was filled with things that could truly fill the belly:
Rye bread the size of a fist baked to a crispy crust, each topped with a red dot made from red fruit jam symbolizing “sun shine.”
A few smoked hard strips of salted meat hung on a wooden rack, emitting an enticing smoky aroma, with barrels of pickled cabbage.
“Who dared imagine celebrating like this before.” The old baker wrapped the bread in oiled paper for the customers, tracing a sun gesture over his chest, “If not for Officer Pete bringing in a convoy of flour, this oven fire would’ve long gone out on a winter’s night.”
Under the nearby wooden shed, heaps of onions and root crops brought by Red Tide caravan awaited.
This in previous Cold Sand Territory was a wealth enjoyed only by nobles in the castle.
The people on the street increased, those were the miners who had just finished the night shift.
Unlike the previous winter, they weren’t covered in coal dust, eyes numb like walking corpses.
Today, almost everyone had a red cloth strip pinned to their wool hats or rough cloth collars, or sewed a crude sun pattern.
“Cut me two fingers’ width of salted meat, and weigh a small bag of coarse sugar for the kids, today’s spring festival, let the home have a touch of sweetness.” A burly miner carefully placed a few worn copper coins on the wooden counter.
His companion beside him joked with a smile: “Old Tom, buying festive food so early?”
“Indeed.” Old Tom grinned, revealing yellow teeth, pointing to the giant Red Tide flag fluttering on the tower of the distant administration hall.
“This year’s so cold, if not for Lord Louis sending Officer Pete, we would be buried in frozen graves now. This money is spent joyfully, celebrating us escaping from God’s hands!”
While the miners were expressing emotions, a neat sound of footsteps came from the street entrance.
Pete, accompanied by other aid officers, was walking down the street.
He wore the deep red Red Tide uniform, the cloak though somewhat old was washed clean, the copper button on his shoulder shone faintly in the morning light.
“Officer Pete! May the sun shine upon you!”
“Officer, these are freshly baked loaves, have a taste, no need to pay!”
