Failed decrees and manure

"Also, my lord, I think Nightfall Territory needs proper houses. The slaves are always crammed into tents made of rotten wood and ragged cloth. That isn't even the worst of it. What's alarming is that even the freemen have no houses. That will cause resentment among your subjects, if you care what they think."

"That problem will take time to solve." Field took a spare map from the bookshelf and handed it to Tate. "Only after I reclaim the forest to the east and the quarry will we have a chance of solving the housing problem. I also need to plan where to build. Keep this map, and let me know whenever you have any ideas."

"Yes, my lord."

Tate felt trusted and supported.

Compared with Mapleleaf Territory, Nightfall Territory was worse than a slum, yet something entirely new seemed to be taking root here.

Early the next morning, a maid brought pudding, white bread, and goat's milk.

There were no dairy cows in the territory, only beef cattle. Fortunately, goat's milk was decent too, though there was very little of it.

Ashina wore a lace-trimmed noblewoman's gown with a fitted waist. Field had bought it in Mapleleaf City and had it slightly altered to suit his tastes.

Although Ashina loved her maid outfit, she had the day off, so she hadn't put on her "work clothes."

Seeing Ashina in a dress nearly made Field too embarrassed to look directly at her. He had to mentally brace himself before he regained his composure.

Her long hair hung loose, and Ashina rested her cheek on one hand. Her half-lidded eyes held a seductive wildness, their gaze dreamy and unfocused. There was no telling what she was thinking. White silk stockings hugged the perfect contours of her legs, lending her a noble, elegant air, while her cross-legged posture revealed a tantalizing glimpse of an intimate area.

Silk stockings existed in this era, but they weren't made of the ultrathin material used in modern times. These stockings were thicker, allowing only a faint hint of skin to show through, without feeling revealing at all.

Rather than sitting with a noble young lady's rigid formality, Ashina held a slipper between her stocking-covered toes and swung it teasingly.

Other nobles would have considered her rude, but Field was happy to let Ashina express her lively Wolf Demihuman nature. He therefore taught her only some noble and modern etiquette, rather than the entire set of feudal strictures.

This was Nightfall Territory, after all. Field made the rules.

"What do you need me to do today?" Ashina lazily scooped up a spoonful of pudding with her silver spoon and slipped it into her mouth, smiling in satisfaction. After savoring its sweetness, she blinked her large eyes and suggested, "How about treasure hunting? It would be great if we could find more treasure."

Finding the wine and Magic Scroll earlier had brought Nightfall Territory a substantial income, and Ashina had become rather hooked on treasure hunting.

"Not today. If you like, you can come with me to visit the grassroots." Field finished his goat's milk with a frown. It tasted strongly of goat, and the cook had added salt, which hadn't made it any more pleasant.

Ashina paused, repeating the strange term. "The grassroots?"

"Ahem. I mean going out to give the farmers and slaves some guidance with their work."

Ashina answered without hesitation. "Sure, let's go together."

After leaving the Grand Winery, they immediately saw the disorderly slave camp. It was empty, however, since Tate had driven the slaves out to work early that morning. Slaves didn't get breakfast, which even saved the time they would have spent eating. In fact, even the freemen didn't eat breakfast. It was far too extravagant.

Ordinary people in the Middle Ages ate two meals a day. The midday meal was called "breaking the fast" and was a relatively formal affair, complete with prayers and thanks to the gods. Dinner was more casual. From Field's observations, although they called it dinner, it was really more of a late-night snack, since the freemen ate very little in the evening.

Breakfast, meanwhile, was called "the little meal that broke the fast." Generally, only nobles ate it, and they had to observe noble etiquette, such as never taking breakfast back to their rooms and washing their hands with a shallow basin and towel before each course.

Of course, none of that mattered. Field still ate according to Huaguo customs.

"I'm regretting not riding a horse."

Field had barely taken two steps before he covered his face in speechless dismay. Excrement littered the road. Although manure could enrich the soil, it had to be composted first.

"Clearly, my previous decree hasn't worked." Field looked around but couldn't see Kao, so he turned to the maid Scissors. "Go fetch that old rascal Kao, and bring along someone who has a voice among the freemen."

Before long, Kao approached with an embarrassed expression. An old man named Old Turtle Dove came with him. Old Turtle Dove had originally been a villager in Bull Territory. After Field had brought him here through shameless maneuvering, he had gradually become something of a new village head, able to settle minor problems among the freemen, such as disputes between neighbors and family quarrels.

"Good day, my lord." Both men bowed.

"Good day." Field smiled at them, then asked, "Is stopping people from relieving themselves wherever they please still proving difficult? Tell me what obstacles you've encountered."

Kao replied guiltily, "There are too many of them! And every one of them is as stupid as a pig. The moment a word of advice leaves my mouth, their wooden heads forget it completely. Besides, they don't take verbal warnings seriously, and they shamelessly insist it's their first offense."

That was true. Even in modern times, verbal warnings were useless against some elderly people who misbehaved. They treated your words like so much hot air.

Besides, in a fit of kindness, he had given them three chances each. With several hundred people getting three chances apiece, they could practically cover Nightfall Territory in shit.

He had exhausted every polite word. It was time to crack down hard. Field wished he could confiscate the tools they used to commit the offense.

"Spread the word. Starting today, anyone caught relieving themselves wherever they please will be punished. Freemen will be fined one copper coin, or given one lash if they have no money. Slaves will receive triple the punishment: three copper coins or three lashes. There will be no more warnings." Field's expression darkened. "Also, organize the women and children among the slaves to collect the excrement every day and pile it together."

What a nobleman-obsessed with cleanliness and making work for everyone, Old Turtle Dove thought. It's only shit. I really don't understand why we have to waste effort piling it together. Is he planning to build a statue out of it?

"Do you fertilize your fields or compost manure?" Field turned to ask Old Turtle Dove.

"Fertilize?" Old Turtle Dove looked bewildered. "We water, weed, and catch pests. And of course, most importantly, we pray. We pray to the Goddess for a bountiful harvest."

"Uh."

The corner of Field's mouth twitched. No wonder people in this era never had enough food and kept starving to death despite the small population. Even the most fertile soil would be depleted by constant cultivation.

"Then you ought to fertilize your fields." Field pointed toward the farmland. "Pile up the manure, then use it to water the crops after planting."

"Harvest Goddess above! What have I just heard? I ought to tear off my ears and throw them away!"

Old Turtle Dove's eyes rolled back, and he nearly died of a brain hemorrhage. If the man before him hadn't been the Baron, Old Turtle Dove would certainly have swung his fists and started a fight.