Free Web NovelIt was time for the annual distribution of supplies, but Fierce Tide Square was not bustling with people. This year, the city's population was too large; if everyone had to queue, it would cause a three-day and three-night jam.
So Louis ordered that supplies be delivered door-to-door by small teams led by grassroots supply officers.
Pete and Jack were among them, pushing a wooden cart, turning past the back of the warehouse along the snowy path, and entering the Southeast corner of Red Tide City.
This area was slightly lower in elevation, and the houses were semi-underground wooden huts built in a rush three years ago.
But they weren't exactly crude; their tops were covered with thick straw and animal hides, providing both wind protection and insulation. Ventilation pipes emitted wisps of warmth, exuding a sense of earthly solidity.
Jack lifted the frost-covered canvas, revealing a list with household numbers marked, and introduced, "This area is mostly inhabited by refugees who came to the city with the refugee tide half a year ago. Red Tide City happened to be short of workers, so they were allowed to settle here; otherwise, this place would have been torn down."
Pete nodded, raised his hand, and knocked on the first wooden door.
"Who is it?" a hoarse voice came from inside.
"From the Hall of Political Affairs! Winter supplies have arrived!" Jack shouted, raising his voice.
With a creak, the door was pushed open.
A hunched middle-aged woman peered out. Seeing a large bag of items, her face was filled with disbelief: "These are for us?"
"Yes, this is Lord Louis's order." Jack placed the package at the door. "One per household, and this is just the first batch. The second batch will be distributed in half a month.
Inside are wheat, dried meat, mushroom buns, and salted meat. Your house has a blue label, so you also get a subsidy package."
The woman was stunned for a long while, her eyes reddening. She squatted down and hugged the package to her chest, muttering incessantly, "Life... it's really getting better and better."
She trembled as she turned and went back into the house. A commotion immediately arose inside, and soon several children peered out. Though their clothes were old, their eyes shone brightly.
They jumped and cheered, "Thank you—thank you, Red Tide Territory! Thank you, Lord Louis!"
"Thank you, sun of the North!"
Jack couldn't help but grin, responding in a low voice, "Follow the Lord, and good days are still ahead."
Pete said nothing, merely looking at those dirty little faces, suddenly feeling the package in his arms grow much heavier.
They then walked deeper, and at almost every household, they would hear an incredulous gasp: "These—are all for our family?"
"This, this isn't even everything? There's another batch??"
"Lord Louis, truly an emissary of the Dragon Ancestor—"
Those sacks of grain, dried meat, medicine chests, and animal hide packages might cost several months' wages to buy a small portion elsewhere, but here they were delivered by the cartload right to their doors.
Even more astonishing was that Jack always emphasized, "This is just the first batch. There will also be allocations in mid-winter and late winter. You will not go hungry."
One sentence always brought tears of relief to the eyes of an entire family.
Pete watched from the side, his heart surging like a tide.
Stepping into these houses, seeing people's trembling hands accept their rations, he once again realized that in the context of the post-disaster North, a life of dignity itself had become the most luxurious gift.
By the seventh household, the sun was already setting. It was an old wooden house, where an old woman over fifty was sitting on the doorstep, sunning herself with her eyes closed.
"Supplies have arrived," Jack called out loudly.
The old woman opened her eyes, saw the Red Tide emblem on their clothes, and immediately stood up tremblingly: "Is—is it for me?" ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
Pete nodded, placing the supply package at the door.
The old woman squatted down, slowly opening the bag.
Sunlight shone into the neatly packed bags of wheat, smoked fish, vegetables, and even a bottle of medicine for dispelling cold.
She paused for a moment, then her eyes reddened.
"I've lived for over fifty years—this is the first time a Lord has given food, not taken it—" she murmured softly.
Her fingers trembled as she carefully put each package back into the bag, tying the opening tightly, then tying another layer.
"I don't dare let the neighbors see, or they might take it, and I wouldn't be able to get it back—oh, this isn't a dream, is it?"
Seeing this, Pete was speechless for a moment.
He suddenly remembered his mother; she had suffered from a fever due to a cold a few years prior.
Pete had spent a fortune then to invite the Lord's doctor, who only said, "You'll be fine if you get through it."
But she didn't make it. If at that time, he could have gotten such a small bottle of medicine...
Pete remained silent for a long time, feeling a painful lump in his chest.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, the old woman looked up and asked with a kind face, "I heard, the Lord's child is coming soon?"
Pete nodded, but before he could speak,
Jack smiled and interjected, "Yes! Our future young master of Red Tide Territory is about to be born!"
The old woman gazed at the increasingly heavy snowy sky outside, slowly raised her hand, and devoutly made an old Dragon Ancestor faith gesture over her chest.
"May that child be born safely, and be as great as his father."
Late at night, the earthen castle in the very center of Red Tide City was illuminated by the never-extinguished furnace fires.
Emily, ten months pregnant, her belly high and round, leaned quietly in a wooden reclining chair by the fireplace.
She looked up at the roof; even though this was the room where she felt most at ease, her eyes still held a deep anxiety.
"He's been moving very frequently today," she murmured softly, her hand slowly stroking her abdomen. "Is he afraid of the cold, or does he already want to come out and see the world?"
Louis, beside her, wore a cotton coat, looking less like a Lord and more like an ordinary husband awaiting childbirth.
"I asked Lady Elena," he said, re-covering Emily with her blanket, "She said it's a normal sign. This child is just..."
...too energetic."
Emily smiled, but couldn't hide a hint of moisture in the corner of her eyes: "Are you very nervous?"
"Nervous." Louis sat beside her, holding her hand.
In the early morning, the snow still fell, and the chill of the North permeated through the thick walls.
But the Red Tide birthing room set up in the main castle had already been warmed.
This was a birthing room arranged according to the old imperial aristocratic customs, personally overseen by the old medical woman Elena, who had come as part of the dowry from Frost Halberd City.
It was she who had personally delivered Emily, and now she would once again welcome the continuation of this bloodline.
Inside the room, the curtains were tightly drawn, the furnace fire burned brightly, and calming incense made from vine frost leaves burned in a censer in the corner, filling the air with a slightly astringent yet gentle scent.
Emily was already lying on the bed, dressed in a loose birthing gown, leaning against thick cushions, quietly breathing in the medicinal fragrance.
Perhaps it was the warmth from the furnace, or perhaps the steady rhythm of the fetus in her womb, that kept her from feeling as nervous as she had imagined.
When she saw her stepmother enter the room, she even smiled gently and reached out her hand to her: "Mother, you've come."
Lady Elena was Emily's stepmother, but she was as meticulous and thoughtful as a birth mother.
As soon as she stepped into the room, she immediately checked every detail of the entire delivery room: "Have the alcohol cloths been replaced? Has the umbilical cord cutting knife been boiled? Who mixed the incense proportions?"
Elena answered gently, "Everything is proceeding as planned."
"I'm counting on you," Elena said in a deep voice, then looked at Emily again.
Before she could speak, Emily gently squeezed her hand.
"I'm fine, really," Emily smiled, looking at her, "With you and Elena here—I feel very at ease."
Elena paused; she suddenly realized that Emily was no longer the little girl who needed to be protected.
Louis stood in the corridor outside the door, his gaze fixed on that door, as if trying to penetrate the layers of thick wood with his sight.
Faint whispers and movements came from behind the door; it was the female doctors preparing, it was Elena directing.
According to old imperial custom, men were not allowed into the birthing room before the child's birth, otherwise it would bring misfortune; even if the birth was smooth, it would bring disaster later.
As a Transmigrator, Louis certainly didn't believe in these superstitious things.
But while Emily was not superstitious, she still retained some customs passed down through generations in the Empire.
So Louis had never stepped inside the birthing room, not for tradition, but simply to put Emily at ease.
Three days prior, the Daily Intelligence System had already predicted that mother and child would be safe today: 【1: Three days later, Louis Calvin's first son will be born smoothly.】
But he still couldn't be completely at ease; after all, prophetic intelligence could be broken.
So he stood motionless, even suppressing his breathing, waiting for that moment to arrive.
"Wah—!"
Until a clear cry rang out.
It wasn't a tearing wail, but a loud and powerful declaration of life.
Like a ray of morning sun piercing a long night.
Almost simultaneously, a female doctor's loud shout came from inside: "A baby boy! Mother and child are safe!!"
Louis, standing at the door, took a moment to react.
He slowly exhaled, his brows relaxed slightly, and his shoulders eased.
He took a step towards the door, raised his hand, and gently knocked on the open door.
Someone immediately responded from inside; it was the young medical woman, her face still beaming with irrepressible joy.
"Lord, you may enter." Louis nodded and stepped into the birthing room.
Near the bed, several medical staff were handing a freshly washed bundle to the maid by the bed.
Emily had been re-settled, leaning against thick cushions, her face pale but with a smile.
And on the bed was a small, tightly wrapped infant.
The baby was softly humming, not crying, just occasionally wrinkling its nose, as if adapting to this world.
Louis stopped at the bedside, looking down at the child.
It was a warm bundle of life, its features not yet formed, its skin faintly reddish, its eyes closed, its tiny nose twitching from time to time.
Louis looked down at the child, unconsciously holding his breath. He had imagined this scene countless times.
But when the moment truly arrived, he found himself unable to utter a single word.
He tried to reach out and pick up the child; it was very light, almost unreal, like a soft ball of cotton against his chest.
He instinctively tightened his grip slightly, holding the child more securely.
Then a joy he had never known slowly filled his heart. Just then, Lady Elena's voice gently sounded beside him: "Give him a name."
Louis looked back at her, then at Emily, who was still weakly leaning on the bed.
She was looking at him, her gaze tired, yet also smiling.
Louis nodded, and without a moment's hesitation, said, "Let's call him Althas."
"Althas Calvin." He paused, confirming again, "Meaning the rising dawn, the one who brings hope out of darkness."
Emily smiled softly, her eyes not leaving the infant in her arms.
Elena stood beside her, looking at the newborn boy, and nodded gently: "It's ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) a good name."
As the clear cry of the infant rang out, the servants and guards who had been standing in silent solemnity outside the birthing room finally let out a sigh of relief.
Some whispered, some had reddened eyes, but all restrained themselves from making loud noises, fearing they would disturb those inside the room.
Bradley stood at the end of the corridor, his usually calm and mountain-like expression now showing a visibly increased joy.
Soon, a maid hurried over and whispered in his ear, "Mother and child are safe, it's a boy."
Bradley nodded slightly, then turned and walked towards the young knight waiting by the wooden pillar: "Weil."
"Here." Weil stood tall and straight, but his expression couldn't hide his excitement and nervousness.
Bradley's tone was unequivocal: "You first go to the tower and ring the bell three times, then go to the Hall of Internal Affairs and instruct them to immediately draft an announcement. Tonight, the entire Red Tide City must know this news."
Weil swallowed, confirming softly, "It's—it's a baby boy, right?"
Bradley nodded, his tone unusually soft for a moment: "A baby boy. Mother and child are safe. Lord Louis's eldest son, Althas."
Weil nodded heavily, then turned and rushed away.
Soon, the bell on the main castle's high tower rang.
Dong! The first sound.
Deep and clear, it cut through the wind and snow, echoing over Red Tide City.
Dong! The second sound.
People in all the streets and alleys stopped their work simultaneously.
Whether they were artisans testing steam engines in workshops, female workers sorting medicinal herbs under sheds, or student teams moving wooden crates in Fierce Tide Square, all looked up.
Dong! The third bell toll followed.
Three consecutive rings, Red Tide's traditional signal: something significant has happened.
"The young master has been born!"
The first to react were the officials from the Hall of Political Affairs. Upon hearing the news, they rushed out of the main gate, jogging through streets and alleys to spread the good news to all districts.
From Fierce Tide Square to the carpentry workshop, then to the smoked fish workshop, from the weaving workshop, the city defense barracks, to the new granary under construction on the north side.
More and more people stopped their work, asking and confirming with each other, spreading the word from one to ten, then from ten to a hundred.
Thus, the entire Red Tide City seemed to ignite.
An artisan in the blacksmith shop took off his gloves: "Our Lord finally has an heir!"
An old woman living on the street corner pushed open her window, looking towards the distant tower where the bell echoed, too excited to close her mouth: "Heaven bless our Lord, he's finally a father!"
That wasn't "some noble's child," but the child of their great Lord Louis.
He was the man who let them survive the ruins, the man who gave them food to eat, boots to wear, and a dignified life.
Some of the populace had reddened eyes, others laughed out loud.
They rejoiced for their Lord, and they rejoiced for themselves.
Because from today, this city they built with their own hands had a future.
