I Can Bestow Favors, and I Can Bring Storms

Facing Second Brother's sudden, heartfelt concern, a warm smile appeared on Lynn's face.

"Don't worry too much, I have my own plans. By the way, go call Yagna for me, if she isn't asleep yet."

Lynn had just returned to the Castle that afternoon when he noticed Yagna's hesitant demeanor.

The young girl was completely incapable of hiding her emotions; her every worry was written plainly on her face.

It was just that Lynn had been too exhausted and filthy at the time to bother dealing with her.

Second Brother accepted the order and left, returning within minutes with Yagna, who was dressed neatly, in tow to the study.

Afterward, Second Brother left with great tact, closing the door behind him.

Realizing she was alone in the study with Lynn, Yagna froze slightly, a flicker of panic flashing through her already nervous eyes.

She stood before Lynn, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her dress. The many questions she had prepared were stuck in her throat, much like a deer that had wandered into an unfamiliar forest.

Watching her tense expression, Lynn leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and couldn't help but tease, "What, are you unhappy to see that I returned alive?"

"No—no, I am happy, truly happy!"

The words had barely left her lips before Yagna wished she could dig a hole and bury herself.

Who says they are happy with such a stiff face?

Lynn continued to joke, "Is that so? But you don't look very happy to me."

"I'm sorry, I... I was just a bit too nervous. I'm really not unhappy, truly!"

Yagna rubbed her stiff cheeks vigorously, struggling to force a smile.

At the same time, she cheered herself on in her heart:

Where did my usual wit and cleverness go? Why do I get so nervous I can't speak the moment I see this bastard son of an Earl? Pull yourself together, Yagna!

Suddenly, Lynn changed the subject. "What time is it, roughly?"

Yagna was stunned again. "Ten o'clock? Or nine?"

"It's so late, yet you aren't preparing for bed, and you're even dressed properly waiting for my summons. Could it be that you..." As he spoke, Lynn's gaze roamed over Yagna wantonly, as if he were admiring a precious collection.

Yagna was so startled she took half a step back. "My Lord, please do not misunderstand, I was just..."

Lynn merely smiled faintly. "Oh, what did I misunderstand?"

"My Lord... I..."

Yagna's face turned bright red in an instant.

But as the blood flow to her brain increased, her intelligence reclaimed the high ground.

She realized Lynn was intentionally teasing her. She took a deep breath, struggled to steady her heartbeat, and then forced a serious tone.

"My Baron, please stop teasing me. I truly have something very important I wish to ask you."

"Fine, then let's talk about your so-called important matter."

Lynn shifted gears with ease, raising an eyebrow as his expression quickly returned to a calm, unruffled state.

"My Lord, during the week you were away from the Castle, I saw the two-wheeled heavy plows speeding through the strip fields, and I also saw the compost made by the serfs. I only want to know, can these new technologies truly increase crop yields? Where did these techniques come from? Why have I never heard of anything like them before?"

Yagna was desperate to know everything about the heavy plows and the compost. After several days of field observation, she had already realized the immense potential of these two technologies.

"Without a doubt, these two technologies can effectively increase farm yields, and the increase is quite significant. As for the origin of these techniques, in truth, I saw them while traveling in the Southern Border."

Facing Yagna, who had seen a bit of the world, Lynn switched his narrative.

When fooling Old Albert, he had claimed the technology came from Cold Wind Valley. But Yagna had left White Bear Territory and had even studied in the court of the Marsh Duchess; such a claim clearly wouldn't fool her.

"The Southern Border? You have been to the Southern Border?"

Sure enough, Yagna's attention was instantly captured by the term "Southern Border."

At this time, to the vast majority of Northerners, the Southern Border was as distant as outer space, draped in a thick veil of mystery.

Because the North's handicraft industry was extremely backward, the vast majority of valuable goods—such as chainmail, wool, glass, and wine—had to be imported from the Southern Border.

Over time, in the minds of the Northerners, the Southern Border became a land of abundance, prosperity, and development.

Lynn said calmly, "What, I cannot go to the Southern Border? I am an Earl's son, a second son without inheritance rights; traveling the continent is quite normal."

The North did not have a partible inheritance law; a noble's family property and land were generally passed to the eldest son.

Those younger sons without inheritance rights, after completing their knightly education, would usually leave home to either join other nobles, become mercenaries, or, in the case of those from poor families, become outlaws.

Before finding a stable foothold, these younger noble sons would usually travel far and wide, participating in various tournaments to gain fame and sell their services for a good price.

Lynn's story had no logical holes. His public identity was the second son of the Cold Wind Earl; going to the Southern Border to broaden his horizons made perfect sense.

"I just find it novel. I have never seen a Northern noble travel to the Southern Border before."

Yagna completely accepted Lynn's explanation.

It stood to reason that advanced technology would come from the Southern Border.

After all, the ancestors of the Northerners had migrated across the sea from the Southern Border.

Yagna then asked, "By the way, my Lord, I also want to know, could you bring these precious technologies to Shallow Beach Territory in the future? The serfs of Shallow Beach Territory also need more food."

"Of course, I don't mind if my serfs eat better."

Lynn didn't care at all about the spread of the technology.

In the future, he would even vigorously promote these advanced agricultural techniques throughout the entire North.

With the current level of transportation and communication, the natural spread of new technology was extremely slow.

Even though Shallow Beach Territory and White Bear Territory were only a day's journey apart, without the artificial intervention of those in power, it might take three, four, or even more years for the heavy plow to be fully popularized at the grassroots level.

"I thank you for your generosity on behalf of the five thousand local residents of Shallow Beach Territory!"

Even though Yagna no longer had much to do with Shallow Beach Territory, she still felt genuinely happy.

The Marsh Duchess had once taught her that a Lord must never blindly exploit their serfs, but rather treat them as the precious wealth of the territory.

But Lynn's follow-up inquiry interrupted Yagna's excitement:

"So, when can Shallow Beach Territory become my territory? I cannot bestow favors upon land that does not belong to me."

"This... this..."

Yagna was instantly rendered speechless. Lynn's subtext was very clear: he was asking when she would agree to become his mistress.

Lynn stared at the former Baroness, extending his right index finger to tap impatiently on the wooden armrest of his chair.

"My patience is never in great supply. This autumn, White Bear Territory will harvest far more grain than in previous years, enough to support a larger army. If you continue to hesitate, what awaits Shallow Beach Territory will no longer be favors, but the cold winds of winter!"