1 JIN(Catty) = 600 gram(1.32277 pound)
...
The selection and promotion of new knights didn't begin immediately. After all, most of the knight order was currently away from Sardinson County, and to start the process now would be unfair to many. So Felix passed down word of his intention, advising everyone to prepare early. The actual selection process would naturally wait until the others returned.
In the meantime, Felix temporarily reassigned two knights from other available squads, sending them with a unit of soldiers to Slot County to oversee local security. When necessary, they could conscript local freemen and serfs for manpower—after all, it was normal for the populace to serve in the military. Slot County wasn't short on able-bodied men either, whether from the new town construction site or the docks—many could be spared. With two knights in charge, it would be enough to keep order.
The knight squires, upon hearing this news, were excited. After all, the new knights would be selected from among them, and it seemed everyone had a fair shot. Motivated by this, they began training harder than ever, working diligently and performing even more bravely in daily tasks.
Wei Wei, however, was curious when she heard about it: "How exactly are knights selected?"
"Of course, they have to compete seriously," Felix replied, very familiar with the knight selection process—after all, he'd gone through it himself. "A squire must defeat his opponents in designated tournaments, winning multiple matches to prove himself. Only then is he qualified to become a knight."
In the early days of knighthood, anyone who could afford a full armor set and a horse could become a knight. Back then, it was merely an honorary title, without any real privileges.
But over time, knights grew in importance. The fiefdom system was implemented, and becoming a knight became a path to nobility. It was no longer so easy—while anyone used to be able to become a knight, it was now a privilege largely reserved for noble-born sons. Only nobles could afford to send their children to train under other nobles or knights, and only they could afford the expensive equipment, which was simply out of reach for commoners.
The transition from squire to knight hinged most importantly on receiving the master's recognition and undergoing the "arming ceremony." Usually, this recognition came from a formal tournament—those who performed well were granted the right to undergo the ceremony and become official knights.
"The royal capital's arena originated from this tradition," Felix shrugged. "Of course, these days it's just a form of entertainment for the nobles."
"You won your knighthood in that arena too?" Wei Wei asked. It was the first time she'd heard Felix speak of how he became a knight.
Perhaps it was because the experience had been too harsh. While Felix often talked about his past training and missions, he never mentioned anything about the tournaments.
Even now, he only glossed over it: "Yeah. After winning several matches in a row, I was finally able to undergo the arming ceremony. By the way, those lands I sold you? I earned them through arena victories, exchanged them with others, and then traded again to piece together the land near the manor I gave you."
Knights were conventional military forces trained for war. In times of peace, besides hunting or fighting bandits, they earned their land and wealth by risking their lives in the arena. It was a brutal and deadly competition—many knights lost their lives or went bankrupt there every year. Felix had managed to win several rounds, earning the king's attention thanks to his strong abilities. Still, several of the more serious scars on his body were a result of those matches.
Because of that, Felix never discussed the arena with Wei Wei. He knew she wasn't the kind of noble lady who enjoyed watching fights. On the contrary, if she ever found out he once fought for wealth and status in the arena for the entertainment of nobles, she would likely frown in disapproval. She was someone who cherished peace and disliked violence.
Still, even if he didn't say it outright, Wei Wei could imagine the dangers involved. After all, whenever she heard of competitive matches and aristocratic entertainment, her first thought was always something like the Roman Colosseum—facing off against wild beasts and such. And since nobles enjoyed it, who was to say that wasn't the case here too?
Of course, she didn't voice these thoughts. Since Felix didn't want her to know, she pretended not to.
Naturally, the conversation turned to other topics.
"When will Kingsley and the others return? Is this bandit-clearing mission dangerous?"
"Nothing to worry about—it'll go smoothly," Felix assured her. The scouts he'd sent out earlier had already assessed the enemy's strength. Felix had also dispatched a force equal to or greater in number than the bandits, with full preparedness and the element of surprise. Barring unforeseen events, the mission was nearly guaranteed to succeed.
However, he couldn't predict exactly when they'd return. Besides eliminating bandits, they had other tasks to complete. If they uncovered anything unexpected, delays were possible.
The mountains the bandits occupied were only a few hundred kilometers from Sardinson County. If they rode nonstop, they could arrive in a day or two. But Kingsley's group had disguised themselves as merchants, and couldn't travel quickly. Even with the slower merchant wagons, it took them about five days to reach the forested hills where the bandits were gathered.
The Pradi Empire's terrain was mostly plains and rolling hills, so its mountains were generally low and gentle. The forests were mainly made up of tall fir and pine trees, which were good for hiding a few people, but not so much for concealing a large group. In winter, forests were even worse for hiding—food was scarce and wildlife rarely appeared. That the bandits had managed to stay there this long was mostly due to the lack of major efforts to dislodge them.
Their recent success in raids had likely made them careless. So when they encountered a group from Sardinson disguised as an ordinary merchant caravan, their luck finally ran out.
Especially since the soldiers deployed were elite special forces who had undergone long-term training. If nothing else, their survival and individual combat skills far exceeded those of ordinary troops. And the forest was practically their home turf.
Previously, these special soldiers had mostly conducted reconnaissance and exploration missions. This was their first real engagement, but their performance was outstanding. Even the knights had to admit: that in forest terrain, these soldiers had the upper hand. On open plains, it might be different—but in the woods, the knights would have a hard time dealing with them.
Professionally trained knights and soldiers versus bandits—who were likely ex-mercenaries or strong civilians at best—made for a lopsided fight. The result was inevitable.
A few days later, Felix received Kingsley's letter. Aside from a summary of the operation, it was full of praise for the special soldiers, which greatly lifted Felix's spirits.
He happily told Wei Wei the good news: "Kingsley says they've secured the bandits. Soon, the surviving ones will be brought back to Sardinson for me to deal with."
Wei Wei asked, "Did they find out anything about their background? And what about the stolen goods—have they been recovered?"
"Nothing so far," Felix replied. "Some of the stolen goods were recovered, but most were already dealt with."
Felix hadn't expected to recover the stolen goods anyway. Most of the caravans traveling between Sardinson and elsewhere—especially the smaller ones—were carrying various goods for trade. Small traders typically brought food items that were light, tasty, and popular. These were items not worth the trouble for big merchants, leaving the business to small-time operators. Once stolen, such food was either resold or kept by the bandits themselves. In the middle of winter, with food scarce and hunting difficult, it was hard enough to feed a group of fifty. Naturally, whatever they stole, they ate.
Because they had to escort the bandits back, Kingsley's team moved much more slowly. Still, with the road temporarily cleared, it was good news for any merchants planning to travel it in the near future.
Meanwhile, back in Sardinson County, preparations for wheat filling and the upcoming spring planting season were already underway.
At this time, many serfs within the estate were informed that their fields would not be planted with wheat or oats this year. Instead, their land would be left open to grow some unfamiliar new crops.
The serfs weren't entirely surprised by this. Word of last year's bumper harvest of corn, sweet potatoes, and potatoes had spread, if only in fragments. Though they didn't know the precise yields of these unfamiliar crops, they had heard rumors that the Countess had brought many high-yield plants from a distant eastern land.
So when the stewards delivered the new planting orders, the serfs weren't shocked—some were even eager to try. After all, the knights had already shown even greater enthusiasm.
Earlier, many knights had registered their intent to claim seeds of the new crops for planting in their fiefs come spring. Now, it was finally time for the castle to make good on that promise.
Wei Wei had been busy inspecting the seed and tuber reserves stored in the various underground cellars. Though the cellars were well-constructed and usually preserved contents safely, there was no guarantee against spoilage. Even a seemingly minor issue could cause seeds to sprout prematurely or develop mold. Sprouting seeds could still be planted, but moldy ones had to be discarded.
To prevent damaged seeds and tubers from being distributed to the knights, Wei Wei instructed her staff to first haul out all stored materials and inspect them thoroughly, removing any that had gone bad. While they were at it, seeds like corn could be laid out under the sun during good weather to reduce moisture and prevent further molding—this would improve planting conditions later on.
Because these crops were now being openly promoted for widespread cultivation, there was no need to keep the inspection and drying process discreet. Instead, everything was done openly in the vast courtyard in front of the castle. As slaves carried out the drying and sorting, they were visible to the surrounding servants, soldiers, and even the stewards and serfs coming to the castle on business.
Everyone who passed through the courtyard found it impossible to look away from the unfamiliar crops piled on the ground. Especially striking were the sweet potatoes—over 300,000 jin (150,000 kg) of them formed a literal mountain. Compared to the other crops, the sheer volume and size were staggering, utterly unimaginable for those who had never seen such high-yield food before.
Even those who had heard rumors of the new crops were stunned by the real sight.
After all, the Countess had arrived alone when she came to Sardinson. How much could she possibly have brought with her? Aside from valuables like gold and silver, just how many seeds could she have carried?
And yet, in less than two years, that small stash had transformed into a courtyard overflowing with grain—so much that it couldn't even be spread flat.
Everyone who saw it couldn't help but ask others:
"Did all of this come from the Countess's seeds? Are you sure the Count didn't buy these from elsewhere?"
"Of course not! Look at these things—have you ever seen them before? No? Then where do you think he could've bought them?" Those who had already been shocked earlier now took the chance to look smug and belittle the newcomers, forgetting that they too had once been equally stunned.
Once they got confirmation, the questioners were left speechless. They could only mutter, "This... this is just too much…"
This wasn't just one person's reaction—it was widespread. With so many seeds and tubers to sort and dry, plus the need to prepare the exact shares for each recipient, the work was given to a group of elderly slaves and naturally took several days. During this time, people often wandered over to watch the process, using any excuse they could. Some said they were delivering eggs or mushrooms found in the woods to the Count and Countess. Such gifts were traditionally given to pay taxes or honor their lords—but never so frequently, or all at once like this.
Felix and Wei Wei could have forbidden them from coming, but they didn't. Let them look. Better to satisfy their curiosity now than to have them secretly dig up the fields later. Don't underestimate the lengths people will go to for curiosity—many would risk a little trouble to get a peek. And besides, they probably figured that as long as they didn't steal anything, just "looking" wouldn't hurt.
Among the gawkers were also some helpful souls who didn't just stand around—they pitched in, speeding up the sorting and weighing. As long as they weren't sneaking any seeds away, Wei Wei had no problem with this.
Soon, the seed potatoes and crop seeds for the knights were ready. Wei Wei had promised to give them seeds last year, though she never specified the amount. The knights figured it wouldn't be more than what the King received—just 100 jin of each crop—since there were 120 of them. If each were to get as much as the King, there wouldn't be enough corn or potatoes to go around.
Indeed, the final distribution per knight was:
30 jin of corn
10 jin of potatoes
100 jin of sweet potatoes
The corn could cover about one acre, sweet potatoes about one-sixth of an acre, and the potatoes just enough to "mark the occasion."
But no one complained. The Countess hadn't charged them a single coin. These seeds were a gift. Considering the crop yields, a well-tended planting could multiply many times over by autumn, producing enough to expand cultivation the following year.
These knights weren't greedy. If even the King only received that much, then they felt honored to get the same. And while their shares seemed small, collectively, 120 knights receiving that amount added up to a significant bulk—it was clear the Countess had truly made a generous contribution. People even worried whether she and the Count had kept enough for themselves.
Besides grains, Wei Wei also distributed a variety of vegetable seeds to them—tomatoes, cucumbers, luffa, pumpkins, and winter melon—all crops that had performed well the previous year. Tomatoes, in particular, had out-yielded even sweet potatoes. And since the seeds were tiny, a small pouch could plant a large patch. With the local love for vegetables, there was no concern over demand. Whether used in cooking or turned into tomato paste, the prospects were excellent. Once tomato paste became known, it was sure to take off—especially as a condiment for pasta, sandwiches, and salads. It was destined to become a pantry staple.
And Wei Wei didn't just give these vegetable seeds to the knights—she also handed them out to their squires, the regular cavalrymen, household servants, and estate stewards. Anyone who wanted some got at least a little. After all, the estate's kitchen garden was big enough to supply the castle's needs. She had no intention of expanding it further, so she simply gave away the extra seeds.
Some serfs, upon hearing about this, mustered their courage and came to the castle, asking to exchange money or goods for some vegetable seeds. Wei Wei allowed it. Though she didn't give much, she also didn't ask for much—a few eggs could get you some tomato or other seeds. Those who came early returned home delighted, while the latecomers had to accept the unfortunate truth: the seeds were all gone. Regretfully, they headed home empty-handed, and those who knew someone who had gotten seeds tried to beg a few from them.
But most were turned down. The quantities were small, and the germination rate was unknown. With it being the first time planting, giving all but one seed away was a risky gamble. What if it didn't sprout?
So, no. Not. Some even worried others might try to steal their sprouting seedlings. They didn't dare plant the seeds in the open fields—instead, they planted them right next to their homes. Courtyards with walls were safer, and some even built small fences around their planting spots to keep the chickens and ducks from trampling the young sprouts.
As for not knowing how to plant them—surprisingly, that wasn't a major concern. Everyone who received seeds also got a planting manual. Most serfs couldn't read, but many of their children could recognize some words. They brought the booklet home and asked their children to read it aloud. And if they ran into real problems, they could always go to the steward—or even to the Countess herself. That was something already well-known: the Countess not only knew how to farm, she was happy to help. Anyone who asked her for advice usually got an answer.
Although most of the knights were away, their families came to the castle after receiving notice, collecting their share of seeds and tubers. They even brought along skilled serfs from their fiefs, hoping to have them learn the planting techniques before returning home.
Wei Wei arranged for them to join the estate's slaves in preparing seedlings. Since they would be taking the seeds back, she taught them to wrap corn kernels in balls of mud mixed with ash for sprouting. These mudballs could be neatly arranged in rows for seedling cultivation, then transplanted directly into fields once they sprouted. Sweet potatoes, of course, were simply buried whole. Potatoes, on the other hand, had to be cut and sprouted to yield more plants. But potato cutting was a delicate process—if done poorly, the tubers could rot—so it was important to let the growers practice.
Considering she only gave each knight 10 jin of potatoes—barely enough to meet expectations—she didn't want those precious tubers wasted during novice trial runs. If the knights' serfs made mistakes, they could face punishment. So Wei Wei simply had them practice on her reserve supply of potato chunks, working alongside her estate's chosen growers. That way, she got some extra free labor, and even if some pieces got spoiled, she could afford the loss.
Since this was everyone's first time handling these new crops, and since they had seen the yields with their own eyes, no one dared to be careless. Each task was done with cautious seriousness, and to everyone's surprise, there weren't many mistakes—their initial efforts were fairly competent.