Roland convened the inaugural high-level plenary meeting of Border Town at the Castle reception hall.
Unlike its humble beginnings with Barov and his dozen apprentices, the town hall has now grown into a thriving community of nearly a hundred members—encompassing fallen Nobles, captured Knights and their retinues, and even natives who have completed primary education and earned diplomas.
With the population growth, various departments gradually took shape, giving the municipal hall a semblance of the Prince's vision. No longer required to micromanage every detail as before, he could delegate simple policies and plans to the newly formed departments. Roland felt deeply gratified by this streamlined approach.
The inaugural high-level meeting was attended by the department's top brass: Agriculture Minister Senidali, Education Minister Shujian, Acting Minister of Chemical Industry Kemoschuir, Construction Minister Karl Vanbert, Military Chief Iron Axe, and City Hall Director Barov Mons. The Ministry of Industry remained under Roland's direct supervision, as no one else had a clear understanding of industrialization's true nature.
A bucket of ice water stands by everyone's side, emitting a refreshing chill—the ice cubes, enchanted by candlelight, remain submerged for at least half a day. Even under the scorching sun outside, the castle hall stays pleasantly cool.
"Let's have each department report their recent progress," Roland said, pulling a water jug from the barrel and refilling his own glass with ice-cold water. "Let's begin with the Ministry of Agriculture." "Yes, Your Highness," Seni replied, rising to bow before unrolling a prepared scroll. "The grain surrendered this time amounts to approximately 17,000 hu. This quantity alone will suffice to meet the town's grain needs through next summer's harvest. Additionally, the Ministry has purchased surplus grain at market rates as per Your Majesty's decree, though this remains far below the required quota—currently only 4,500 hu." The term "hu" referred to a traditional wheat measuring unit, a bamboo basket, making the figure merely nominal. He had no clue how to convert it to kilograms or liters—though these details were irrelevant. What mattered most was that the confiscated grain would be enough to sustain the town's population.
The key lies in the second point: If calculated based on the method of confiscating 70% and retaining 30%, the acquired grain should amount to approximately 7,000 hu. The portion reserved for grain and next year's seeds would hardly require such a large quantity. In other words, some serfs chose to hoard the remaining 30% of grain privately in wooden sheds instead of selling it to the municipal authorities.
Though he had foreseen this scenario early on, the actual occurrence still left him sighing softly. The purpose of stockpiling grain was clear: to speculate and resell. Should the town face food shortages or natural disasters, their stock could fetch prices far exceeding market rates, potentially multiplying by over tenfold.
This explains why Roland designated grain trading as a municipal monopoly, requiring buyers to present identification. The grain supply is vital to Border Town's stability. In the early days when grain was scarce, unrestricted sales would have allowed large-scale hoarding, driving prices up. Only by enforcing real-name rationing and banning alternative sales channels could grain prices be kept stable.
"Your Highness, why don't you enforce the confiscation of wheat from serfs?" Seni asked in confusion. "After all, the law doesn't permit them to sell it," Roland replied. "Since it's their private property, they're free to dispose of it. I haven't prohibited serfs from keeping their grain. You could interpret it as' what's not forbidden is permitted.' " Seni appeared perplexed, as if he couldn't grasp the meaning. More than just him, most people frowned, while Barov alone wore a thoughtful, contemplative expression.
"Is there anything else to report?" Roland took a sip of iced water. The notion that everything must follow rules and procedures would only be fully grasped later—indeed, understanding this principle was the mark of a competent official in the new era. Of course, this approach could easily lead to the opposite extreme, fostering bureaucracy. But bureaucracy was still preferable to chaos or reckless behavior.
"Uh... yes," Senidali shook his head. "Now that the fields are harvested, how will you plan the fallow schedule for next year?" "No, these lands won't be fallow. We'll continue planting wheat next year," Roland waved his hand. "The manure piled along the edges is meant to enrich the soil. You'll instruct the serfs to shovel it into the fields, mix it thoroughly with the earth, and then add fresh manure to the empty spaces." The hot, humid summer weather takes just two months to decompose, while winter requires about four months. By the following spring, not only will the soil quality have been improved by the first batch of compost, but he'll also have fresh compost to add as a base fertilizer, making fallow completely unnecessary.
Even without considering high-end chemical fertilizers, simply incorporating human and animal manure into agricultural production already represents a significant advancement.
"Very well, if that's your request," he stroked his head. "Furthermore... Your Highness, such vast quantities of wheat would be unmanageable with just one or two stone mills. I propose constructing a steam-powered mill along the Chishui River." "Agreed," Roland nodded. This marked another breakthrough—finally, someone besides himself was attempting this innovative power source. "First, present your proposal to Barov. After securing funding, work with the Construction Department to finalize the plan." "Understood, Your Highness," Seni responded. "Lastly, regarding the Freeborn promotions: Five hundred and sixteen individuals have been granted advancement. As the quotas were strictly allocated based on wheat contributions, no objections were raised. I've submitted the list to Lord Barov." He rose again to bow. "That concludes my report." "Well done," Roland clapped his hands in approval. The young Knight from the former Wolf Clan now seemed to have adapted to town life, excelling in the municipal administration. With proper branding, he could serve as an exemplary model for recruiting the fallen Noble and Knight from the Fortress.
The second speaker was Shu Juan, her long hair neatly coiled at the back. Dressed in a crisp white shirt and a sleek black dress without any embellishments or frills, she exuded a mature and professional demeanor. It was hard to imagine that just six months earlier, she had been a witch in exile, forced to flee from the Church.
"Two cohorts of eighty-five individuals have completed primary education, most having studied at Mr.Karl's academy," she reported. Roland marveled at her photographic memory, which allowed her to present the data without preparation. "Forty-six chose municipal works, twenty-one bicycles, thirteen the First Army," she paused, "and five chemistry lab positions." Five? Roland glanced at Kemoschuir, whose expression betrayed disappointment. The medal ceremony's publicity had fallen short of expectations, leaving three newly built laboratories likely to remain idle for some time.
"Good thing the employment rate is at least 100 percent," he consoled himself.