Since Claude wanted to earn favor, he naturally wouldn't forget to send word to Felix while persuading Baird to make the trip to Sardinson County.
His letter arrived earlier than Baird did, so Felix had already instructed his subordinates to keep an eye out. Thus, before Baird even had a chance to contact the castle after arriving in Dingle with his group, Felix was already aware and had invited Baird to the castle for detailed discussions.
By the time the slave merchant left the castle, Sardinson and holding a handwritten certificate from Felix to claim the goods he wanted, the entire group of slaves had already become Felix's private property.
With so many new people suddenly added to the castle, there was naturally no space to house them all. The castle's original slave population numbered around a hundred, whose duties mainly involved tending livestock and farming for the earl. Their living conditions were worse than those of the serfs—they slept in animal pens alongside sheep, a truly miserable existence.
But now, with an additional thousand slaves, squeezing them into the animal pens might work temporarily, but it wasn't a long-term solution. After all, they planned to raise more cattle, sheep, and horses this year. While the livestock were still small, the slaves wouldn't take up too much space, but once the animals grew, there'd be no room left for the slaves.
Hearing this, Wei Wei said, "Since housing them in the animal pens isn't sustainable, why not designate another area to build proper housing? That way, even if more slaves arrive in the future, we won't have to worry about space."
Though she pitied the slaves, the system of the time made it impossible for her to advocate for emancipation—liberating ordinary serfs was already difficult enough, let alone slaves at the bottom of the hierarchy. The best she could do was improve their living conditions.
Other nobles might consider housing slaves a waste, fearing they'd escape if moved outside the castle, posing a security risk.
But most of these new slaves were foreigners, unfamiliar with the land. Even if they fled, they'd be quickly recaptured. Moreover, punishments for runaway slaves were severe. In a foreign land, unless they were subjected to extreme cruelty, they were unlikely to risk escape.
Felix, raised with knightly values, held some compassion for the weak—perhaps not an overwhelming amount, but enough to agree with the idea of providing proper housing for the slaves.
After surveying the area around the castle, they decided on a plot of land behind the castle, near the vegetable fields. Originally left empty for security reasons, the land was uncultivated. The vegetable fields bordered a river originating from distant woodlands, with the villa located upstream. This plot was also close to the main road, and the river and moat created a natural enclosure. With no bridge nearby and the moat and castle blocking one side, the movement was restricted to two directions—either along the main road or following the river toward the woods. A simple fence could easily seal off these exits, reducing the need for heavy supervision.
Once the location was settled, the next step was construction. Slaves, of course, wouldn't get luxurious housing. They built mud-brick houses—mixing soil and chopped wheat straw, pressing the mixture into wooden molds to form bricks, then drying them in the sun. Once hardened, these bricks were stacked like regular ones, using wooden beams as supports. No cement or lime mortar was needed—just a paste of mud and straw to seal the walls. After leaving openings for doors and windows, rafters were laid across the top, and the roof was thatched with straw or reeds.
These mud-brick houses, common in rural areas of Wei Wei's past life, might look crude and fragile, but they were surprisingly sturdy.
Since the construction was rushed, the interiors were bare—sleeping areas were just straw spread on the ground, resembling livestock pens at first glance. But despite appearances, they were more comfortable than stone houses, offering better insulation and warmth.
Each mud-brick house took only a few days to build. Wei Wei and Felix decided it was worth the wait to resolve the housing issue before assigning other tasks. Soon, rows of mud-brick houses stood neatly arranged on the once-empty plot, their orderly layout visible from the castle's higher vantage points.
Even after completion, the slaves couldn't believe these houses were for them.
Though the overseer had repeatedly told them the houses were theirs—urging them to work hard and finish quickly—none of them believed him. Who had ever heard of nobles building houses for slaves? Even the kindest masters wouldn't do such a thing. They assumed the overseer was just manipulating them into working harder.
But when the houses were finished, and the overseer instructed them to divide into groups of five per house, the truth finally sank in.
As the slaves stood frozen in disbelief, the overseer continued grumbling, "The earl said there aren't enough houses yet, so you'll have to squeeze in for now. Once more are built, he'll reassign space. Honestly, the earl is too generous. These houses are huge—five people? You could fit ten! You lot don't deserve such good treatment."
To him, these were just sleeping quarters—the more people crammed in, the better. The space was wasteful. If not for the earl and countess's kindness, slaves would never have their own houses.
Under his nagging, the slaves finally accepted that these houses were truly theirs!
The newly arrived slaves were merely relieved to have landed with kind masters, but the castle's original slaves—many of whom had been born into generations of servitude—were overwhelmed. They had never lived anywhere but animal pens. Now, they had rooms of their own, even if shared.
The realization brought many to tears, their sobs and incoherent murmurs of gratitude filling the air. The scene grew emotional until the overseer barked at them to hurry up and move in.
"Tomorrow, the earl will assign you new tasks. No slacking off—understand?"
The crying slaves quickly composed themselves and organized their housing. The hundred-odd castle slaves, long acquainted with one another, easily grouped themselves by family or friendship. Since slaves couldn't marry outsiders, relationships formed within their ranks, and many had spouses or children. The newcomers, unfamiliar with each other, simply separated by gender and filled the remaining houses.
Once housing was settled, the castle slaves had to move their belongings. Though they were slaves, they had accumulated a few possessions over time—old clothes and blankets distributed by the castle in winter, chipped bowls for meals. Packing revealed just how much their lives had improved since the earl's succession.
These slaves were cautious, bundling their belongings tightly before moving, careful not to let the newcomers see. Conflict among slaves wasn't unheard of—survival often bred competition, especially over food and warm clothing. And the castle slaves had the latter.
The newcomers noticed, of course, but with the season no longer cold, blankets weren't urgently needed. Besides, fresh off the sale, they dared not cause trouble. Anger the earl, and they might be resold—where else would they find such good masters?
Thus, peace was held. As time passed and life proved even better than expected, with overseers maintaining order, major conflicts never arose.
The day after the slaves moved in, Felix and Wei Wei eagerly put them to work.
Felix had a list detailing the new slaves' skills and literacy. Those with trades were assigned to craftsmen, while the literate ones—alongside the unskilled—were divided into two groups. One was handed to Wei Wei to process cosmetic materials, replacing the child serfs previously tasked with handling beetroots. The other joined the original slaves in herding and farming. With the meat sauce factory demanding more livestock, the castle had increased its flocks of sheep and pigs. Though Uke Town was also building farms, the castle wouldn't stop raising animals—its nearby pastures were even larger than Uke Town's.
With manpower secured, cosmetic production finally began. For now, the newcomers only handled raw materials, while the actual mixing and crafting were entrusted to the original castle slaves—more trustworthy than the fresh arrivals.
When the first batch of cosmetics was finally shipped out, Wei Wei sighed in relief, no longer fearing another flood of urgent letters from the capital.
"We can't take on any more projects for now. We've already got too much on our plates. We need to slow down—burnout is real."
She poured herself a cup of dandelion "coffee" for a boost.
Despite the name, it contained no actual coffee or caffeine—just roasted and ground dandelion roots brewed like coffee. The bitter taste mimicked the real thing and had similar invigorating effects, a modern substitute for caffeine addicts.
Of course, dandelions were medicinal herbs, so moderation was key.
Wei Wei hadn't planned to make this, but with both of them overworked—Felix especially, often burning the midnight oil—she'd concocted it as a pick-me-up. Bitter like black coffee, it became palatable with milk and sugar, almost like instant coffee. After an initial adjustment period, Felix had grown fond of it—though he was limited to one cup a day, mornings only, to avoid sleepless nights.
Next year, the tea plants she'd transplanted to Melk Town would be mature enough for light harvesting. The yield would suffice for personal use, and in a few more years, the thousand tea bushes planted this year would allow large-scale production. Thankfully, despite Melk's coastal location, an inland spot proved suitable for tea cultivation—otherwise, all those seeds might have gone to waste.
Though they weren't expanding operations, their workload remained heavy. County affairs still demanded Felix's attention, and the constant strain had visibly slimmed him down, prompting Wei Wei to frequent the kitchen, brewing nourishing soups to restore his health.
Fortunately, Felix's efforts to recruit talent from the capital's royal school bore fruit. Several promising individuals had arrived in Sardinson, joining his staff and lightening his administrative burden, finally granting him breathing room.
This development only strengthened Wei Wei's resolve to establish a proper county government.
She brought up the idea again with Felix. Though still a distant dream—they didn't even have proper cities yet—the current system of town mayors and village heads overseeing local affairs, with castle stewards handling miscellaneous tasks, was inadequate. A county government had nowhere to operate from.
Felix, however, thought it worth a try. "We could start small in Dingle, setting up a basic structure as you suggested. If we're short on staff, we can recruit externally. Let them manage Dingle first—when it's time to expand, they won't be starting from scratch."
This was a sound plan. Dingle, being close to Sardinson Castle and well-connected by roads, had seen rapid growth in population and commerce. The original mayor, never particularly competent, struggled to manage the expanding town, leading to chaos until Felix dispatched soldiers and stewards to restore order.
Wei Wei smacked her forehead. She'd been thinking too big—why not start with a town government before scaling up to the county level?
"Then let's post recruitment notices—no restrictions on background. Anyone with the ability can apply. We're bound to find talent."
This was an unprecedented opportunity. In other regions, official positions required noble blood—commoners need not apply. By relaxing requirements and advertising benefits and career advancement, they'd have no shortage of candidates.
Felix asked, "How should we assess their abilities? Ask schoolteachers to help draft exams?"
"No need for that trouble. I'll handle the questions."
Exams? If there was one thing her homeland excelled at, it was standardized testing. Though she'd never taken civil service exams, the encyclopedia surely had relevant materials. Tailoring questions to their needs would be simple.
Felix left the matter in her hands. Two days later, after Wei Wei drafted the job descriptions and requirements, he had notices posted across the county.
Thus, following the population census, Sardinson County experienced another seismic shift. The earl was openly recruiting officials—a list of positions many didn't fully understand, but all recognized as government roles.
Such a thing was unheard of, not just in Sardinson but across the entire Pradi Empire. Official posts in cities were typically filled through patronage—even lowly gate guards needed connections. Nobility and networking were prerequisites.
Yet here was Sardinson, openly recruiting based on merit, with no restrictions on birth—commoners and even serfs could apply. This announcement stirred excitement among literate commoners who believed in their competence.
Even the illiterate but capable were tempted—the recruitment period stretched until autumn, allowing five months for preparation. With determination, learning enough basic literacy to sit the exams wasn't impossible.
The announcement sparked county-wide discussion, especially since it didn't exclude outsiders—any capable individual could participate.
But a new problem arose: where would the illiterate but ambitious go to learn?
For those near the castle, the answer was obvious—the church.
Normally, clergy offered basic education to commoners—for a donation, of course—so the church was a natural choice.
Moreover, the church already taught a group of child serfs, a fact that had long bred resentment. Why should those serf children receive education while theirs didn't? When the serfs had been deployed for the census, the envy among castle workers had been palpable.
Previously, parents had brought their children to the church, hoping to enroll them, but Father Matthew, overwhelmed, had refused without castle approval. Disappointed, they'd left, their jealousy festering.
Back then, envy was just envy—regretful, but ultimately accepted as bad luck.
Now, however, a golden opportunity lay before them. If their children could learn, they might walk this bright path, lifting their families' fortunes, perhaps even shedding serf status. With enough savings, future generations could become squires—maybe even knights, the closest commoners could get to nobility.
And if they failed this year's exams, there would be more chances. Sardinson's rapid development under the earl's leadership promised to expand governance needs.
So education was non-negotiable—even if it cost money.
In the past, paying for schooling would've been impossible, but recent improvements meant many families had savings. Scrimping together the church's usual tuition fees was feasible—if not for all their children, then at least for the brightest (or favorite) son.
Thus, after much deliberation, the free tenants and serfs living near the castle gathered their savings and children, marching en masse to the church.
They weren't there to riot—but there was an unspoken pressure in numbers. If Father Matthew refused again, they'd demand answers: If God loved all, why teach serf children but not theirs?
If the countess's maid was the one teaching? Even better—they'd donate to the church, and Father Matthew could instruct their children instead.
Cornered, Father Matthew was at a loss. Isolated and neglected by the broader church, Sardinson's faith had always been shaky. The previous priest, neither competent nor supported by the former earl, had left the populace indifferent at best.
Father Matthew, having arrived only a few years ago, held little sway. Though villagers attended weekly services, their interest lay more in the free food than scripture. Talk of divine blessings rang hollow when tithes took a tenth of their harvests—resentment simmered beneath forced compliance.
So now, their "pleas" carried an edge of coercion.
Caught off guard and elderly, Father Matthew soon grew visibly unwell under the crowd's pressure.
Fortunately, alerted in time, Wei Wei and Felix arrived to extract him. Recognizing his distress, Wei Wei ushered him inside to rest, administering acupuncture to calm him before matters worsened.
By the time she re-emerged, Felix had already berated the crowd into submission.