HTLCCBFT Chapter 140

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 140

Hearing such gentle encouragement, even the resilient Lucy could no longer hold back her tears.

Tears she hadn’t shed in a long time streamed down her face, choking her voice, yet she still tightly clutched the report-filled paper in her hand.

Oliver hadn’t expected that just a few simple words of praise would make her so emotional.

“Good girl,” he attempted to comfort her. “Don’t cry. Both the Cat God and I are watching over you. We know how hard you’ve worked, and that you deserve this—and even more… Of course, the great Cat God watches over every diligent and kind-hearted believer.”

Lucy froze for a moment.

Her eyes widened silently, sparkling with trust and joy, yet her tears fell even more fiercely.

When Oliver realized his clumsy attempt at comfort seemed to have backfired, his scalp tingled with unease, and he couldn’t help but glance pleadingly at the Cat God beside him.

However, the tall, golden-haired youth merely stared back at him with seemingly innocent, unblinking golden eyes.

Oliver: “……”

Right. How could he expect anything from this clueless Cat God?

The deity had probably been staring at him the whole time, completely oblivious to Lucy’s emotional outburst.

The Duke Lord’s guess wasn’t wrong—and this was already the result of the deity exercising some restraint.

Had it been a few months ago, upon hearing Oliver casually say, “Both the Cat God and I are watching over you, and we know how hard you’ve worked,” the deity would have seriously corrected him, saying something like, “I haven’t been watching her.”

But now…

Well… As long as Oliver was happy.

That’s what He thought.

While Lucy’s face was a mess of tears, He didn’t even spare her a faint glance. Only when Oliver suddenly met his gaze did He straighten his back a little more happily.

“I-I’m so sorry, Your Grace.”

It was Lucy who quickly composed herself in the end. She roughly wiped her tears with her sleeve and neatly tucked away the completed report. “Your Grace, regarding the work on the chicken and pig farms, what are your instructions?”

Oliver did have some.

He looked at Lucy with slight anticipation and smiled gently. “How is the progress with the meat chickens?”

He had been thinking about those chickens since last autumn—the ones culled in the second round of breeding selection, castrated, and relegated to being fattened for meat.

Although the optimal breeding age for roosters is between 1.5 and 2 years, the quantity and quality of semen are highest from November to March of the following year, and they had already made perfect use of that period.

Moreover, the first generation of Lainan chickens had been bred out of necessity, possibly even among siblings.

With the new roosters from the chicks bought from the chicken vendor Hahn at the Autumn Market serving as future breeders… well, as breeding stock, they would officially debut in the next breeding season, allowing the first batch of Laina meat chickens to make their way to the dining table.

Lucy felt no reluctance about slaughtering the chickens she had raised herself.

She firmly believed that it was an honor for them to offer their bodies to the gentle and beautiful divine messenger.

Whether it was the chickens or herself, if the Lord required it, she would do it without hesitation.Although this detail wasn’t written on the previous report, it remained firmly in her mind, and she immediately replied, “They’ll be ready the day after tomorrow, Your Highness.”

Under Prince Oliver’s instructions, while fattening those capons[mfn]capon: castrated male chicken[/mfn], she had deliberately added large quantities of spices purchased by the cook from Kondiment into their feed.

This extravagant waste—so excessive that even the well-traveled cook couldn’t help but shed tears—was, of course, Oliver’s method of improving the meat’s texture and enhancing its flavor, which he had Lucy carry out.

Yet Oliver didn’t feel the slightest bit wasteful about it now.

Previously, with too many matters demanding his attention and ingredients being rather unremarkable, eating had primarily been for energy replenishment.

Even though Xavier’s culinary skills could be considered above average for this era, Oliver hadn’t considered having him prepare overly complex dishes.

—He simply hadn’t had time for indulgence.

In fact, if not for the need to maintain appearances, he could have easily “recharged” just by holding the Cat God on many occasions.

Now that Laina had officially emerged from the grips of hunger and poverty, and Albury had been secured through nearly bloodless, almost cheating means, as a celebration, it was only fitting that everyone should join him in enjoying a proper feast.

“Excellent.”

Oliver nodded with satisfaction and turned to the reliable butler: “Fosse……”

Fosse immediately understood, giving a slight nod: “Rest assured, Your Highness, I will have Sheff prepare accordingly.”

Sheff[mfn]谢夫(xiè fū) meant to sound like ‘chef'[/mfn] was a cook Fosse had found anew before Oliver decided to transfer Xavier to Albury Castle.

“For the castle, five will suffice,” Oliver said with a smile. “Have Sheff prepare the rest as chicken soup and stir-fried chicken pieces. As for the rest… well, I won’t go into too much detail and will leave it to the capable head chef’s discretion.”

He couldn’t treat commoners and slaves equally, but at the very least, when commoners ate meat, he could ensure slaves received meat broth and the bits of meat within it.

—Just as I expected.

Hearing the anticipated answer, Fosse sighed silently.

Yet the loyal butler agreed without hesitation: “Yes, Your Highness.”

In Fosse’s view, the young lord—despite having the noblest bloodline and being raised in luxury since childhood—always displayed astonishing self-restraint.

This quality was rare among nobility and, even among ordinary people, would be regarded as formidable and worthy of awe.

Everyone present shared similar thoughts to Fosse’s.

They gazed quietly at Oliver, who had so naturally spoken those words.

From the very first day they arrived in Laina, all had witnessed how he worked tirelessly from dawn till dusk, undoubtedly busier than even the king.

—After all, no king would harvest corn in the dead of night or push himself to the point of collapse from handling affairs of state.

This divine messenger and lord, sincerely loved and revered by all his subjects…

Was so gentle and approachable, humble and unassuming, generous and kind to a heartbreaking degree.

Little did Oliver know that his minor act of restraint—merely for the long-term development of the poultry farm—nearly led to his deification in his subordinates’ minds once again.

After addressing his culinary desires, he shifted focus to the newly purchased slaves, carefully questioning the newcomer in charge of such matters—Weston. Weston certainly wasn’t promoted overnight: as the unlucky candidate who nearly had his first-place position snatched away by the mischievous Cat God during last autumn’s first written examination, he was initially assigned by Oliver as an “intern” to work alongside Farmur.

However, Farmur soon discovered that Weston was clearly more skilled at managing subordinates than at design, drafting, and planning, and thus cautiously sought Fosse’s approval.

After arduously passing the butler’s personal assessment and training, Weston proudly became what Oliver regarded as HR, and what others saw as the deputy butler.

While delivering his report, Weston’s tone lacked its usual steadiness, trembling uncontrollably from instinct. his gaze toward the castle owner unconsciously carried a faint, lingering infatuation.

He had often followed Fosse, learning to manage affairs both inside and outside the castle, but this “often” was, of course, limited to times when Fosse wasn’t accompanying Oliver.

Not only was this his first time handling responsibilities independently, but it was also his first opportunity to be so close to the noble duke, whose appearance was as divine as a god’s.

Precisely because his entire focus was fixed on the duke not far away, he completely failed to notice the subtle coughs of reminder from others, nor did he detect the increasingly dangerous look in his mentor Fosse’s eyes behind him.

It wasn’t until the tall, blond noble who was always inseparable from the Lord cast him a brief, indifferent glance.

Though it was an emotionless look that quickly shifted away, it made him feel as if he had fallen through cracked ice into a frozen lake.

He didn’t even understand why he suddenly shuddered on the spot.

Instantly jolted out of his dreamlike, dazed state, he broke out in a cold sweat that chilled him to the bone.

Oliver was long accustomed to being watched in this manner and paid no extra attention to his demeanor.

After listening carefully for a while, he slightly furrowed his brow and interrupted the report: “Wait, did you just say fines?”

The refugees who arrived in Laina last winter also fell under Weston’s management.

Upon hearing that a substantial amount of “fines” had been collected from them, Oliver couldn’t help but inquire further: “What fines?”

After listening to Weston’s explanation, he fell into a brief speechless state.

The largest fines were levied for several “sinful marriages” that were deemed “likely to cause property loss to the Lord.”

It turned out that during the Albury refugees’ temporary stay in Laina territory, as their quarantine period ended and they were permitted to move more freely, they rarely interacted with commoners in the town area but frequently met with slaves and even worked alongside them.

If the Albury people had initially clung to their pride as free citizens, after experiencing the calamity of believing they too would become slaves, their mindset had significantly changed. They naturally became more subdued and no longer looked down on slaves.

Even if they hadn’t been forced into slavery, they weren’t yet Laina people—whereas the slaves were Laina’s slaves, the Lord’s property. Moreover, the serfs of Laina were completely different from all the serfs they had seen before, including those brought by merchants from other cities.

They wore clothes made of modest but clean and tidy fabric, with almost no patches.

They lived in new wooden houses more spacious and beautiful than those of some impoverished freemen in Albury, worked shorter hours, and had full meals every day!

Yes, even serfs could eat their fill!

When they first discovered this, the disbelief and envy on their faces made them seem more like true serfs than Laina’s serfs themselves.

To their delight, after being permitted to work on road construction and serve the Lord, they not only received fair wages but also the previously unimaginable full meals.

As the people of Albury frequently interacted with Laina’s serfs, secret romances soon blossomed between them.

But serfs were the Lord’s assets, entirely under his control, with no right to marry independently—let alone marry someone from another city.

—Unless they paid a fine of three silver coins as compensation for the Lord’s “loss of the next generation of serfs.”

That was three silver coins!

Most were forced to separate, with only a few serfs who truly cherished their daughters spending all the money they had desperately saved last year to pay the fine, allowing them to marry the ones they loved.

Of course, they couldn’t manage this alone and relied on help from the grooms.

Unsurprisingly, the other party, having fled here as refugees, possessed pitifully few assets.

After paying the fine, though not reduced to utter destitution, their lives were destined to become extremely strained for a considerable time.

“Cancel this fine. Not only for Albury but also for any case where a female serf’s marriage partner is from another city, take no action,” Oliver said decisively, rubbing his temples.

There were far too many matters demanding his attention, and knowing that the laws of this era were entirely skewed in favor of the nobility, he had no interest in poring over those harsh legal texts.

But what was this?

He still needed to find some free time soon to review the estate laws of Laina and Albury, at least to eliminate the most absurd ones.

“I suppose, if there truly are foolish serfs unwilling to continue basking in the glory of the great Cat God and wish to leave Laina… then the offspring they reluctantly produce would be hopeless idiots.”

Although as the Lord, Oliver owed no one an explanation, he casually fabricated a reason that others—at least Fosse—could accept: “The great Cat God has no need for unfaithful followers. Let them go.”

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