Personally Taking the Field

Personally Taking the Field

The small square at the center of the farmstead was packed with women and children.

Everything that had happened today felt like a dream to them.

Their once high-and-mighty lord was actually going to work in the fields himself!

And not just work—he was even going to personally demonstrate how to handle animal manure!

When had the serfs ever seen such a spectacle?

The news caused an immediate uproar.

Before long, all the serfs left behind at the farmstead had gathered, and together with Lynn's inspection party, there were nearly a hundred people surrounding the place.

With so many people watching, Albert naturally did not dare let his lord get his hands dirty. He took a manure fork from his son and tried his best to dissuade him.

"My lord, you can just explain it. Leave manure stirring to me."

Old Albert had done plenty of work for his father when he was young. He had known how to handle animal waste since he was six.

"How could explaining it be faster than doing it? I'll demonstrate it once, and you'll all understand."

Ignoring their objections, Lynn rolled up his sleeves and prepared to step in himself.

The smell of fresh animal manure was indeed nauseating. The overpowering stench made him frown deeply, and he nearly threw up his breakfast.

But he needed a sensational event that could spread quickly, making it easier to promote Compost technology throughout White Bear Territory.

What could possibly cause a bigger stir than the lord personally stirring manure?

It would not damage his authority as lord.

Even ancient emperors personally plowed the fields during Spring Planting each year, setting an example for all their subjects.

He was merely a little baron now, governing just over three thousand people.

If he did not lead by example, how could he make the serfs believe in the new techniques he had brought?

On a feudal estate, each year's harvest could barely cover the next year's food and seeds, so people naturally hated the uncertainty brought by change.

Lynn needed to convince not only the mid-level managers led by Albert, but also the common serfs.

Most importantly, he could not force the serfs to use new techniques through violence.

White Bear Territory had no walls around it. Push them too hard, and the serfs would simply run off to neighboring Shallow Beach Territory.

With the crowd watching, Lynn picked up the manure fork, forced down his physical discomfort, and began stirring the pile of manure on the ground.

As he stirred, he gave a detailed explanation.

"This method is called Compost. Thoroughly mix straw with animal manure, then cover it with moist soil to seal it up. It's like brewing Honey Wine. The manure will ferment and generate heat beneath the sealed soil. In just one month, it will turn into the finest fertilizer, greatly increasing crop yields."

Of everyone present, Old Albert had the deepest understanding of farming.

Decades of experience in the fields told him that this new thing called "Compost" would most likely work!

For an intelligent farmer like him, someone willing to think things through, Lynn's words were like piercing a thin membrane in his mind, instantly transforming all the experience he had accumulated into entirely new understanding.

The moment Lynn finished speaking, Albert impatiently asked, "My lord, how should this fermented manure be used?"

"It's simple. After plowing, spread the Compost in the furrows as base fertilizer, cover it with soil, then sow the seeds over the surface." As Lynn answered Old Albert's question, his hands never stopped moving.

With the support of the [Planting] skill, his movements became increasingly practiced. Under his manure fork, the huge pile of manure was like an obedient lump of dough.

"But, my lord, wouldn't the heat released by the manure kill the seeds?" Old Albert was like a student thirsting for knowledge who had finally met a teacher capable of answering the questions of his lifetime. "That is why it needs to ferment while sealed. Think about it—can fermented Barley still be used to make wine? It's like firewood that has been thoroughly burned. It can never be lit again."

As Lynn finished speaking, the manure fork in his hand came to a stop as well.

The manure and straw had been thoroughly mixed. All that remained was to cover it with wet soil.

"I understand,"

"I understand it all! I understand it all!" Old Albert howled as he hugged his son, delirious with joy as though he had won five million in a lottery.

Little Albert had been lowering his head, pondering whether Compost was feasible. Seeing his father's crazed expression, he froze. "Father, what do you understand?"

Lynn had little interest in this sudden little scene. His boots and trouser legs were splattered with manure, and the stench was unbearable. He was practically soaked in the smell and desperately needed a wash.

As he washed his boots and trouser legs with well water, Second Brother, who had been guarding him all along, could not help asking in a low voice, "Big Brother, have you been to Cold Wind Valley before?"

Second Brother had been the first of the five brothers to follow Lynn.

He had also been a mercenary. Ever since Lynn saved his life, he had followed him with unwavering loyalty.

In his memory, Big Brother had always been an excellent Horse Bandit leader—stern, unsmiling, and utterly ruthless when killing.

But who would have thought that Big Brother was not only swift with a blade, but also seemed to truly understand farming? Every other word out of his mouth was some new method from Cold Wind Valley, and he could even leave the Territory Steward utterly bewildered.

Second Brother was thoroughly confused as well.

Could Big Brother really have gone to Cold Wind Valley? Was that why he had chosen the second son of the Cold Wind Family as his target?

"Perhaps."

"What do you mean, perhaps?"

By then, Lynn had mostly cleaned himself up. He reached out and patted Second Brother's solid shoulder. "There is no need to ask about my past. It has no meaning. Our task now is to govern the land beneath our feet."

"I understand, Big Brother." Second Brother was the most obedient of them all. If he was told not to ask, then he would never ask again.

By the time the bustle at the farmstead died down, it was already noon.

After Lynn's personal demonstration, Old Albert could no longer contain his excitement and tried making Compost himself. Naturally, he ended up covered in manure as well, but he was overjoyed, dancing and gesturing wildly.

"My lord, your method is truly marvelous! It has only been two hours since I covered it with soil, yet I can already feel the heat coming from it. Tomorrow—no, today! Tonight, I'll gather all the stewards and Farm Managers in the territory and have every serf use this Compost!"

"No rush. We still need to go to White Bear Town."

"My lord, what could possibly be more urgent than promoting Compost?"

"I have another new technique from Cold Wind Valley. Its effects are even more obvious than Compost, and it will improve farming even more."

"What? There's another new technique?" Old Albert's breathing grew hurried again.

Compost alone was already astonishing enough. The lord actually had an even greater technique?

Once they finally set off, Old Albert, despite his excitement, came up with another question.

"My lord, I suddenly realized that most of last year's straw was eaten by the livestock. There may not be enough. What can be used as a substitute?"

"Pine needles will do. They work about as well as straw. White Bear Territory can't possibly be short of pine needles."

(End of Chapter)