Many secrets in the County of Sardinson couldn't be made public. Felix did everything in his power to keep them from leaking—but all of those efforts were directed outward. Inside, especially within the castle, some things simply couldn't be hidden.
For example—farming.
From the very start, when Wei Wei began experimenting with test plots in the garden, everyone in the castle was aware. Even after those plots were fenced off later, the soldiers patrolling atop the high walls could still see clearly from above—especially those with sharp eyes. Not to mention the servants constantly moving through the grounds. The castle windows were small, yes, but it wasn't hard to stick one's head out and take a look. It's just that no one had paid attention to the lush greenery in those test plots before. Noblewomen often had hobbies in gardening, so everyone assumed Wei Wei was just the same—planting exotic flowers and herbs, nothing more.
Later, when some began to suspect that they had misunderstood, everyone tacitly agreed not to dig any deeper.
After all, most of them hadn't lived comfortable lives before. Sardinson's geography its barren land and limited mineral resources meant that those who lived here rarely had wealth.
But ever since Felix succeeded as Earl and brought Wei Wei back with him, Sardinson had begun to change—noticeably so. The land grew more fertile. The common folk gained new sources of income. Knights sworn to the Earl didn't receive regular salaries—their income came from their fiefs—but now they were often rewarded handsomely. Though those rewards were said to be bonuses, they came regularly—monthly, based on performance. That kind of motivation worked wonders.
Even their meals were better—many times better than before.
With such generous lords, no one was foolish enough to slack off. Who knew? Maybe one day, they too would be ennobled.
So, the knights understood very well that silence was golden. Even if they saw certain secrets, they never spoke of them.
But that was only outwardly. Privately, they still liked to gossip about their lords—especially when it related to themselves.
This was why, at this very moment, they were all pressing the knight who had helped transport the crops from the villa, eager to hear what he knew.
He didn't know much. Just caught a glimpse as he entered the estate.
"The land around the villa—that's all the Countess's land, as you know."
The knight took a sip of his drink, deliberately dragging it out until the others urged him again.
As landholders themselves, they were keenly aware of acreage.
So when he entered that land, the knight had immediately gauged the approximate size of the harvested fields.
"Ten acres. I'm sure it's no more than that," the knight said, becoming more animated as he spoke. "But do you know how much grain we brought back?"
The harvest of corn and potatoes wasn't even complete. The villa's cellar wasn't that large, to begin with—twenty to thirty thousand pounds of storage was its upper limit. Since corn required extended drying and potatoes couldn't be exposed to the sun, the cellar was filled mainly with potatoes. Only a small portion was left for corn. So this shipment to the castle had been mostly corn kernels.
The knight and his men—soldiers and slaves—had personally loaded the bags onto wagons. Even though the corn was in sacks, they could estimate the weight just by handling them.
"Excluding the potatoes, there was at least thirty or forty thousand pounds of corn alone."
Everyone gasped at that number.
Thirty to forty thousand pounds—over just ten acres—meant a yield of three to four thousand pounds per acre. If this were fruit or vegetables, they wouldn't be surprised. But corn was like wheat—an actual staple crop. It was tasty, and filling—and even though this year's wheat yields had been excellent, the highest had only reached just over two thousand pounds per acre. But corn? Three thousand? Even four thousand?
And that wasn't even the final number. The villa had planted multiple crops. The harvested land wasn't just for corn—there had been potatoes too. So the real number could be even higher.
Even so, this not-quite-accurate number was enough to make them wonder if they'd misheard.
The knight who had helped with transport looked smug as he watched their expressions, saying, "So—still worried about yields?"
No. Not at all.
The knights, feeling their hearts race and blood boil, were suddenly full of energy.
"I'm going to George first thing tomorrow."
"Me too!"
No one hesitated anymore.
The knight reminded them, "Don't go telling anyone else. Supplies are limited. If more people find out and start asking, there won't be enough to go around."
They didn't need his warning—they wouldn't breathe a word. Their share of seeds depended on this.
Sure enough, all twelve knights reported to George the next day. And they quickly discovered they weren't the only ones. Most of the castle's servants and soldiers were there too.
Some wondered, "Shouldn't this be a perk only for us knights?" But then they remembered how strawberry seedlings had been shared with everyone too. It wasn't so strange. Their lord and lady were always generous—happy to share good things.
Some of the other registrants were soldiers who had, like the knights, caught wind of the villa's secret. But more of them simply trusted Felix and Wei Wei. If the lord and lady were planning to plant these crops on a large scale, they had to be valuable. No one wanted to miss the opportunity to benefit.
By the end of the day, the first list was finalized.
It was called the "first list" because Felix had 120 knights in total. Only twelve were currently stationed at the castle—the others were scattered throughout Sardinson, or operating in the capital and other regions. Those absent hadn't heard the news and couldn't sign up yet.
Still, Wei Wei had preemptively included the remaining knights on the list. If any of them chose not to plant later, they could be removed.
Moreover, for now, only people at the castle were allowed to register. But Wei Wei was planning to select a few well-performing serfs and freemen at the end of the year to reward them with seeds in the coming spring.
The seeds wouldn't just be corn—potatoes and sweet potatoes were included too, though she hadn't announced that yet.
Naturally, based on each person's status, the seeds they received would vary. Wei Wei didn't intend for everyone to switch crops completely the first year. This was just a trial phase. Once people saw the results, they could decide for themselves.
After working for a few days on drawings for public buildings, Wei Wei went to find Pierre.
Her architectural sketches weren't like Pierre's artful designs. They were quite basic—she only drew the number of floors and internal layouts, leaving the exterior design to the professionals.
Pierre had no trouble with this. He listened to her explanations while drafting the external blueprints, and both were pleased with the result.
"Let's build a model first—see how it looks." Pierre had recently become obsessed with modeling.
Wei Wei agreed readily.
They gathered wood, paper, and various materials and began crafting a miniature city.
It took time, of course, so they didn't try to do it alone. They brought in several carpenters to help. The buildings were all made from wood, with paper facades drawn and glued on, giving the illusion of stone construction.
Wei Wei focused on landscaping—adding flowerbeds along the streets, selecting suitable trees, and designing the vegetation in parks. She consulted the gardeners when in doubt. Her aesthetic, influenced by her Eastern background, gave the model a unique blend of East and West.
For example, her park design leaned toward a Chinese-style garden—with rockeries, ponds, covered walkways, and moon gates. At first glance, it clashed with the surrounding architecture. But its distinct style quickly caught everyone's attention—in a good way.
Felix said directly, "If we wanted to see the usual sights, we could walk through our gardens or climb a nearby hill. This unique style is what makes it worth the visit. Just to stroll through those pavilions and admire the view, I'd willingly make time to go to the park."
Encouraged by his praise, Wei Wei went all in and designed the entire park in the style of a traditional Chinese garden—pavilions, corridors, small bridges, flowing water, and willow trees lining the shore. The buildings would be mostly wood, and lotus flowers would be planted in the ponds. Though rare in Europe, lotuses were common in Greece, India, and Egypt. Ordering seeds from merchants traveling from those regions would be easy enough.
Thus, Sardinson's future city gained another unique landmark—one that would, hundreds or even thousands of years later, become a historic attraction drawing tourists curious about Eastern aesthetics.
For now, though, it was just a small corner of their model, placed on the edge of the residential district, facing the noble quarter's riding grounds and park—separated only by a road.
While they were immersed in this model-building project, a new group arrived in Sardinson. The leader of the group met with Felix, who soon announced that construction could begin on the Slot Port.
"I hired them from the capital. Their fathers built the Royal Harbor. Entrusting this job to them will surely bring us excellent results."
It was the best and most experienced port construction team Felix could find. Though the Royal Harbor had been built decades ago and its original builders had passed away, their children carried on the trade and remained top-tier professionals.
Pierre was a brilliant architect, but he had never built a port before and had no experience with it. So Felix had gone looking for someone else. It had taken quite a bit of effort to gather this team.
"Indeed, the port should come first," Wei Wei agreed. Only with a proper port could they attract ships and visitors and promote their city. Otherwise, relying solely on Princia's port wouldn't retain anyone at Slot.
The team had arrived in Sardinson by ship. Most stayed in Slot, while the team leader traveled to the castle to meet the client. The contract was quickly finalized. After receiving a portion of the payment and forming a supervisory team, they returned to Slot to begin construction. As for labor, they could hire from among Slot's serfs or recruit in neighboring Princia. Felix had already discussed this with Allen—though hiring workers would cost Allen some manpower, he'd still collect taxes on the team's earnings. With a bit of extra compensation from Felix, the gains outweighed the losses.
"Let's send him some seeds next year, too, since you're such good friends."
"Of course. I never forget my friends."
Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion. July gave way to August. The oats planted to fill the gaps in the fields were growing well and should be harvested before the autumn wheat planting. And in the sweet potato fields—it was finally harvest time.
This time, with no outsiders present at the estate, they didn't have to be as cautious. Felix accompanied Wei Wei to watch the slaves dig up the sweet potatoes.
After their previous experience harvesting potatoes and peanuts, the slaves already knew what to do.
But even so, they were still shocked.
From ten acres, they harvested 360,000 pounds of sweet potatoes—a staggering 36,000 pounds per acre. A mountain of produce, quite literally.
The massive sweet potatoes—thicker than an arm, longer than a hand—were first dug up and piled in the field, then carried in baskets to a designated area, where they were stacked into towering mounds. One pile was for the intact, attractive ones; the other was for the ugly or damaged ones. The latter weighed over ten thousand pounds but was still a small fraction of the total.
The slaves went from shocked to ecstatic to numb in under an hour.
The vines and leaves weren't wasted either—they made excellent pig feed. Chopped, dried, and bagged, they were sent to the pig farm in Uke Town for winter storage—enough to feed the pigs until spring.
"Sweet potatoes can't be stored with regular potatoes. These all need to be moved," Wei Wei said, frowning at the two "mini-mountains." Estimating yield was one thing—seeing it in person was another.
She began to wonder if the newly dug cellars were big enough.
Three hundred sixty thousand pounds seemed like a lot, but for seed purposes, it would only plant about six hundred acres. Many of the unattractive or damaged ones couldn't be saved for seed, but that was only a small percentage. The rest all had to go into storage.
"Don't worry. The new cellars should be enough. If not, we'll rent some from the locals."
Even serfs dug their cellars to store winter food, so there was plenty in the estate.
Sweet potatoes needed open containers—sealed ones could cause rot. So sacks weren't suitable, and the castle's sacks had already been used up. Baskets would have to be done for transport. But seeing the exhausted, half-collapsed slaves, Wei Wei chose not to push them too hard.
The knights and soldiers called in again to help transport were nearly dizzy from the shock. What kind of divine crop was this? The yield was absurd. They almost thought they were dreaming.
Basket by basket, the sweet potatoes were moved from the villa to the cellar. The newly dug cellars were just behind the villa, built along the base of the wall. The sweet potatoes were stacked inside, with apples placed around them to help prevent rot and sprouting.
Throughout the whole process, the soldiers doing the hauling were in a state of confusion, while the slaves had grown… well, numb. Nothing could shock them anymore.
Most of the good sweet potatoes were stored. Only a portion was set aside for the capital. In addition to the king's share, Felix had prepared some for a few powerful noble families—each with planting and cooking instructions. Whether they ate them or kept them for planting was their choice.
He'd done his part. If they wanted more in the future—they'd have to pay.
He didn't forget his old friends either. He planned to send them some to try. If they wanted to plant, they could visit his domain next year and receive seeds like the knights—free of charge.
As for the rest of the unsalvageable sweet potatoes—they were sent back to the castle and stacked in the kitchen courtyard.
Washing ten thousand pounds of sweet potatoes took forever. The women from the slave village were given the task. Once washed, half were sliced and dried to be ground into sweet potato flour. Some were kept for cooking, some for making sweet potato noodles. The other half was steamed, cut into strips, and sun-dried into chewy sweet potato snacks.
Both noodles and snacks were delicious. After tasting them, the entire castle was hooked. Especially the sweet potato snacks—their natural sweetness from starch was addictive, especially to people who rarely tasted sugar. Many hoarded their portions to take home to their children, who greeted the treats with joyful, sugary smiles.
Felix tried them too—and immediately decided to add both noodles and sweet potato snacks to the shipment. Some would be rations for the journey, others would be gifts.
After tasting them, even the king would surely plant sweet potatoes on his land.
With the harvest done, it was nearly time for Felix to depart. He first wrote to the king, requesting an audience, then wrote to Allen, telling him he'd be arriving in the capital soon and suggesting they gather their circle.
Wei Wei wouldn't be going this time. Autumn harvests were approaching—someone had to stay and oversee things in Sardinson. She busied herself packing for Felix while asking Dolores if she wanted to go with him.
"Sardinson's social circle is too small. You could use some exposure. And I think Aivira would love to see you again."
Dolores was now thirteen. Her birthday was in late February when they were still returning to Sardinson. In this era, birthdays weren't commonly celebrated—only the king had a formal birthday gathering. So Dolores hadn't had a party, though Wei Wei had prepared a gift for her.
Thirteen was about the age girls entered society. Dolores would benefit from going to the capital again—last year, she had handled herself well and returned in high spirits. Wei Wei fully supported her going again.
Dolores hesitated. She didn't like the capital's social scene, but she did miss Aivira—especially after learning from a recent letter that Aivira was soon to be married.
After marriage, Aivira would live on her husband's estate—it would be harder for them to see each other again.
"Alright. I'll go with my brother."
Seeing her nod, Wei Wei cleared her throat. "Then… I have a favor to ask."
Dolores looked at her, puzzled.
Wei Wei suddenly became awkward. She bent over, pretending to fuss with Felix's luggage. "If Felix needs a dance partner… just help out a little. And make sure no other women get too close."
Dolores blinked. Then burst out laughing. So her sister-in-law was jealous, huh?
If she told her brother that, he'd be thrilled.
Felix was thrilled. Wei Wei caring about something like that meant she was thinking more and more about him.
Nothing made him happier.
This was why, in the nights before his departure, Felix seemed intent on using up every last bit of intimacy they wouldn't be able to share while apart. Every night was a celebration, leaving Wei Wei struggling to even get out of bed by noon.
If not for the fact that he was about to leave…
Wei Wei gritted her teeth but bore with it.
Finally, the day of departure arrived. The entourage and luggage were ready. That morning, Wei Wei had to brace her aching back as she saw Felix off.
She handed him a black silk fan embroidered with a golden lion.
"You'll miss your birthday while you're gone. So here's your gift—early."
Felix's birthday was on the second day of September. By then, he'd surely still be in the capital. Last year, Wei Wei hadn't cared much about birthdays—not even her own. But this year, she remembered his birthday clearly and had put a lot of effort into the gift.
The last time she'd shown the fan, it had been incomplete. Now it was finished. The black fan originally depicted a lion half-hidden in the shadows. Now, a blooming rose had been added to one side—softening the fierce creature's image.
It was an embroidered scene titled "Beast Sniffing Rose." Wei Wei hadn't intended to add the rose at first, but once she finished the fan, something felt off. She'd removed the fan face and reworked it—embedding her name into the rose as well.
Dangling from the fan was a beaded tassel—black threads with a blue gem that matched Felix's eyes. Wei Wei had spent a long time picking that one out.
Truthfully, the fan wasn't very practical. Felix had no intention of using it for cooling himself. He just wanted to keep it safe. It was made by Wei Wei's own hands.
Suppressing the urge to embrace his wife again—he wasn't wearing armor in the summer heat—Felix hugged her tightly, a warm, tender embrace.
Finally, he kissed her and left her with a soft parting word:
"Wait for me."