"Those two beasts who brought the message! Yes, yes, it was my fault for not taking good care of the Lady, it's all my fault! It's all my fault!"
"Where are they?" Suleiman asked.
Old Nick looked at Suleiman with tearful eyes and said,
"They're still kneeling outside. Ever since they heard you returned alive, they've been fearfully kneeling in front of the castle and haven't dared to get up."
Suleiman felt a mix of emotions.
Those two farmers certainly didn't lie intentionally, and besides, they weren't wrong; the original body was indeed dead.
Moreover, they were still living subjects, some of the last able-bodied laborers in the territory.
"Let them in," Suleiman said.
Old Nick hesitated for a moment but still got up, bowed, and retreated.
A moment later, he returned with two farmers dressed in worn-out cloth, their faces covered in dust and tear streaks, trembling as they walked in.
As soon as they saw Suleiman sitting awake on the bed, they immediately knelt down with a thud, their heads almost touching the ground, trembling all over.
"Lord Suleiman! Lord Suleiman! We deserve to die! We deserve to die! It was our mistake in relaying the message, and it caused the Lady's death!"
One of them cried out, trembling all over, his voice filled with extreme fear.
The other also shouted, "Lord Suleiman, spare our lives! We truly thought, at the time, we thought Lord Suleiman you… that's why… we absolutely did not intend to deceive you! Please forgive us! Please forgive us!"
Suleiman looked at their humble, terrified, trembling forms.
They were some of the only young male subjects he had left, his last remaining assets.
Killing them wouldn't change anything; it would only make this barren territory even more desolate and declining, adding insult to injury.
He took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound strong. "Get up."
The two farmers dared not look up, only kowtowing like pounding garlic, trembling all over.
Li Qing, in modern times, was just an ordinary person.
The only leadership role he had ever held in his life was being a group leader in elementary school, responsible for collecting three sets of homework for the teacher every day. This small group leader was his only "official position" on his resume.
Now, in Li Qing's mind, the figures of those high-ranking individuals from TV shows and movies appeared.
"You two, get up!" Suleiman raised his voice, trying to imbue it with authority.
"Your foolish mistake in relaying the message led to an irreversible tragedy for my family." Suleiman's voice calmed down. The two men trembled even more violently.
Suleiman looked at them, humbled to the dust, their fear so real it seemed to permeate the air.
"You deserve to die!" His voice was devoid of emotion, like a pronouncement.
Suleiman watched their faces instantly drain of color, becoming ashen like corpses.
"But you also survived that slaughterhouse for my family." There was no emotion in his voice, only a statement.
"You witnessed firsthand the cruelty of the battlefield, how my father, my two brothers, and your thirteen companions fell."
He paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts internally.
He continued, "Mother's matter has already happened. What good would it do to hold you accountable? Can it bring the dead back?"
"It would only cause an old man to lose his sons, two women to lose their husbands, and children to lose their fathers, nothing more."
Hearing this, the two farmers showed expressions of disbelief. They had thought they were surely going to die.
"However, from today onwards, you are no longer my farmers," Suleiman said, looking at them.
Hearing this, the two farmers again showed expressions of fear, and with another thud, they knelt down, their heads almost touching the ground.
Trembling, they cried out, "We are the souls of your land, please don't drive us away, please don't drive us away. We and our families cannot survive if we leave here."
Suleiman stood up, looking down at them.
"Listen!" Suleiman's voice rose, carrying an undeniable resolve.
"Perhaps you survived not to continue grubbing in this mud." He surveyed the simple tower, his voice echoing in the hall.
"My family is already diminished, the castle is empty, and wolves lurk outside. I need manpower."
His voice was high and resonant, echoing in the hall.
"You witnessed how my father and brothers sacrificed themselves for the family's honor!"
"Perhaps your survival is the guidance of the Seven!"
"Therefore, I hereby pronounce judgment upon you!"
He took a few steps forward, the sound of the flagstones crisp.
"Your duties, they have now changed." He surveyed the somewhat dilapidated castle.
He said slowly and deeply, "You will be responsible for protecting me, protecting this castle, until I no longer need you, or until the end of your lives!"
The two farmers were completely stunned, then their faces filled with disbelief.
After committing such a crime, to receive the lord's forgiveness, and even to become the lord's guards from farmers, this was an immense grace.
They immediately knelt again, this time not out of fear, but out of gratitude.
"By the Seven, we will protect the benevolent and generous Lord Suleiman with our lives!" Both men were in tears.
Suleiman looked at them. In this difficult time, he needed strength and loyalty. He didn't know if he had made the right decision; everything was just beginning.
Suleiman looked at Old Nick, who was standing to the side. "Take them down, find them two decent sets of armor, and two weapons. It doesn't matter if they're old and worn, it's better than nothing."
"Yes, Young Master Suleiman!" Old Nick responded excitedly, his eyes filled with pride as he looked at Suleiman.
His Young Master Suleiman, despite experiencing immense pain and never having received the family's heir education, had taken on the family's responsibilities upon waking.
He had shown the decisiveness of a lord, though Old Nick didn't know if Young Master Suleiman's mercy was right or wrong.
After Old Nick led the two farmers away, Suleiman was once again alone in the room.
His body was still weak, but his mind was much clearer.
He looked out the window. Under the gloomy sky, frogs croaked and owls hooted, and the reeds swayed in the wind, rustling. Such an environment truly brought peace to one's heart.
Suddenly, he thought that it was now the Greyjoy Rebellion, and ten years later, an even greater storm would sweep across Westeros.
And the Riverlands was precisely the center of the storm, a place where no conspiracy or war could be avoided.
Suleiman felt bitter. Although he didn't know the specific detailed history of this world, he knew that in approximately ten years, the entire Westeros would plunge into chaos.
And the Riverlands, located precisely at the center of the storm, would become a battlefield repeatedly contested and bloodied by various factions.
House Tully, House Lannister, House Stark, all armies would seesaw back and forth in the Riverlands, burning, killing, and plundering. The people of the Riverlands would be displaced, and corpses would litter the fields.
Their "Droppings," located downstream of the Green Fork, near its confluence, would be even harder to escape doom.
No matter which side they pledged allegiance to, they would become a thorn in the eyes of other forces and be mercilessly destroyed.
"In ten years, this land will become a purgatory. War will destroy everything, the subjects will be slaughtered, and this tower will be razed to the ground," Suleiman thought inwardly.
He knew that with his current meager strength, he would be completely unable to protect himself in this impending war catastrophe.
Escape Westeros? That was even more impossible. He had nothing, no ship, no money, no people.
Across the Narrow Sea, only a more tragic fate awaited him, such as being sold as a slave.
Pledge allegiance to Daenerys? Her rise was too distant, and her future fraught with difficulties; the timing wouldn't align.
Support the Starks and Tullys? They were by no means good liege lords, and they would ultimately fall.
A humble vassal like him would even be merely an afterthought, something to be summarily cut down when the Mountain's army from the Westerlands executed its plan to bloodily cleanse the Riverlands.
Pledge allegiance to the Westerlands? House Lannister acted ruthlessly, stopping at nothing for its own interests.
They would use bottom-tier Riverlands nobles like him as cannon fodder, consumed on the most dangerous front lines, just as they did in the true history.
He looked up at the night sky from the window, his heart filled with an overwhelming sense of confusion and anxiety. He didn't have much time.
He was just an ordinary person, having received formal education, but he couldn't think of anything he had learned that could be applied.
Although he often read novels where protagonists developed and grew strong by producing things beyond their era, he didn't have such an ability.
He couldn't create any anachronistic products, only a general memory of the future historical trajectory of Westeros.
"What should I do?" Suleiman murmured.
Outside the window, the night was deep, frogs croaked and owls hooted, and the river grass rustled in the wind, as if whispering in Suleiman's ear.
He was still alive now, alive with complete memories and foresight of the future.
This in itself was a miracle. He wasn't without resources; with complete memories and foresight of the future, could he really not find a way out?
At this moment, the confusion in Suleiman's eyes had vanished, replaced only by a burning will to survive and a trace of ambition he himself didn't even detect.