The half-day sports event concluded perfectly amidst cheers and laughter.

Then, the final segment of the spring opening day—the Spring Feast began.

Nowadays, the Red Tide Territory is no longer the desolate outpost it once was.

With the return of displaced people and stabilization at the border, the population has surpassed three thousand.

Trying to gather around in a small clearing for a communal meal, as originally imagined, is no longer realistic.

Thus, the territory-wide banquet was divided into two parts.

In the town square, the majority of residents gathered closely, with fires rising and wooden tables in rows.

Abundant food was served: stews, hot porridge, roasted meat, and bread, along with a few rare pastries.

Some began to sing, others danced a simple group dance, and children chased and played around the bonfire, joy filling the air.

Amidst this jubilant crowd, a young figure walked in slowly.

It was Louis, the Red Tide Lord.

"Hey, it's Lord Louis!"

"Look, the Lord is here!"

People stood up in surprise, their expressions excited as if they had seen a god.

No, as if they had seen the sun.

They looked towards him, like those who had waited long for dawn in the cold night, now finally witnessing the light of dawn.

That brightness and warmth were enough to ignite the long-extinguished flames in their chests.

Louis walked past each table, bowing to greet everyone.

He was not aloof, just smiling softly, "Do you like today's dishes? Are the children full? Did the rain in recent days affect the construction sites?"

Even if it's just a few words, even if it's just a nod, it's like the rising sun in winter, permeating hearts and dispelling years of coldness.

An elderly person stood up with the aid of a cane, holding Louis's hand tightly, choking with emotion: "Lord… if it weren't for you, we wouldn't be able to eat together… Thank you, truly, thank you…"

And this voice brought in more people agreeing.

Those gazes, those tears, those smiles, all directed towards one person—Louis.

He didn't speak much, just listened and responded seriously, as usual, but the crowd seemed to have finally grasped hope.

Because they knew, with him, Red Tide would never be cold.

......

Meanwhile, in the main hall of the high tower at Red Tide Castle, another more solemn banquet was quietly unfolding.

It had no exaggerated gold and silver decorations, nor the superficial niceties of nobility, just polished oak tables neatly arranged in the firelight against the stone walls.

Those who could enter this hall were the true pillars of the Red Tide Territory.

Those who could sit in this high tower were either official knights or elite knights of Red Tide.

Or various managers responsible for daily operations: Agricultural Director Mike, Luke of Fishery, Technology Workshop Chief, Well Foreman, Grain Warehouse Manageress...

Even a few labor representatives still wearing coarse work clothes, faces marked with tension.

They were farmers, craftsmen, even a couple of slaves.

They too earned recognition through their diligent work, attending this banquet as slave representatives.

But they would soon shed their slave status and become free people.

In this banquet hall, no one was superior, no one had to bow their heads.

Because at Red Tide, as long as you're willing to work hard and can offer help to others, you're worthy of sitting in this hall, drinking alongside the Lord.

These were the rights Louis granted them.

As for Emily, as a "Friend from Allied Countries" from Frost Halberd City, she was surprisingly arranged to be part of this official banquet.

She felt somewhat surprised as a "wandering merchant".

But what surprised her more was that the people around her were not traditional "nobility" at all.

They dressed neatly but clearly not in formal attire, but in regular work clothes. Beneath coarse linen garments, was skin darkened by sunlight and calluses formed from hammer handles.

Their conversations lacked the reserved pretenses of noble ladies, instead, they were fervent and sincere.

"Mike, how's the spring planting preparations going on your side?"

"Not bad, Mike made me a heavy plough, it's very useful."

...

These "honored guests" laughed aloud by the main table, toasting each other, exchanging experiences in farming, fishing conditions, well and canal repairs, and difficulties in recent work.

Yet their faces were full of pride and authenticity.

Neither humble nor reserved.

Emily gazed at them in a daze, not understanding why Louis was doing this.

Her gaze inadvertently swept to the high position.

She expected to see the young Lord, but he wasn't there, Louis was absent.

She finally couldn't resist asking softly to a female worker beside her, "When will Lord Louis arrive?"

The female worker was focused on the roasted meat, smiled upon hearing, and said, "The Lord? He's still greeting the residents on the square, guess he'll be back in a while."

When she said this, her tone was relaxed, yet carried a hint of pride.

As if saying: he is our lord, we all know what he will do.

And at that moment, Emily suddenly understood something.

She understood why this land was exuding such a distinctly different aura.

She understood why these people, originally from humble beginnings, had a glow of dignity on their faces that didn't belong to those at the bottom.

Louis, at first, relied on family background or power to sit in this position.

Yet, he did not leverage those powers against these residents while governing the territory.

Louis did not stay high up on the throne; instead, he walked among the people.

With the order he personally established, he earned their loyalty.

At that moment, Emily gently lowered her head, with no confusion in her eyes, only genuine respect remained.

While she was lost in thought with her head lowered, the entrance to the hall suddenly quieted down.

It was a naturally occurring silence, where everyone spontaneously put down their cups and turned their heads.

The first to stand up was an old craftsman, followed by more people, the sound of chairs sliding was ceaseless, and applause and cheers erupted like a wave:

"Lord Louis!"

"Our Lord has arrived!"

Everyone's eyes were filled with respect and gratitude, as if they were welcoming a true guardian.

Emily also immediately looked up.

He came.

The legendary Lord of Red Tide, the young Viscount, her fiancé.

Louis made a dazzling entrance.

He wore a sharply cut black and gold uniform, its tone restrained yet not lacking in authority.

Emily gazed at the young lord entering the main hall, momentarily mesmerized.

Louis was completely different from the "battlefield hero" she had imagined.

She had once perused reports of the Battle of Qingyu Ridge in Frost Halberd City, seeing descriptions like "defeating a thousand with a hundred" and "crushing the elite Snow Swearers."

In her mind, she envisioned a robust, sharp-featured young general.

Perhaps like her father, with a face covered in scars, exuding authority and a terrifying presence.

After all, how could someone who stood out in such chaotic times not be a roaring beast?

But the Louis standing before her now completely overturned her understanding.

He was not burly, his figure was tall and powerful, lines were distinct but not exaggerated, like a sword with its edge sheathed.

His skin emitted a subtle glow under the candlelight, his face handsome and clear.

Emily couldn't help but add in her mind, perhaps a bit too handsome.

What she couldn't ignore the most was his gaze, like the night over the deep sea, calm, steady, yet hiding a storm.

This was not a fierce general roaring and slashing on the battlefield; this was a king who could sit atop the mountain and overlook the entire scene.

Emily withdrew her gaze, lowering her head to hide a hint of subtle shyness.

"So... my fiancé is this type of person."

A hint of an unreadable smile appeared at the corners of her mouth, her heartbeat somewhat uncontrollably quickening by half a beat.

It wasn't entirely because he was good-looking. What truly moved her were the scenes she had witnessed in the past two days—

The cheers from the sports event, the shouts in the square.

The inescapable pride in the eyes of the residents, the posture of those who once were silent now holding their heads high.

That was the appearance of a lord who had truly won the trust and support of the people.

This was what fascinated Emily the most, although all of this naturally began with being handsome.

Louis finally stepped into the main hall of the Red Tide Castle.

Applause, respectful words, the sound of people standing up all surged like a tide, yet he merely nodded slightly in indication, his gaze quietly sweeping through a corner of the guest seats before sitting down.

His gaze paused there for half a second.

A woman was lowering her head, her stance so cautious it approached... slyness.

On her face was a slanted old scar, stretching from the brow bone to the jaw, like a mark left by a sharp blade.

The scar was faint yet clear, so striking it almost instantly placed her in the category of "a surviving woman from the chaos."

But Louis' eyes only rested on her face for a moment before withdrawing, as if he did not care.

The makeup technique wasn't bad, color adjusted very well, even the light and shadow were handled finely, but it's a pity it can't deceive me.

Since she doesn't want to meet with her true appearance, then let her reveal herself.

There's no rush anyway.

Louis withdrew his gaze, without lingering further, continued walking towards the main seat, the silhouette in his black and gold uniform casting a sharp shadow under the candlelight.

He leapt upward, seated himself at a high position, raised his glass to signal the crowd.

The hall fell silent, everyone was awaiting his voice.

"Dear companions, this year we have endured through the harshest winter together." He slowly scanned the entire place, "It was your perseverance, your hard work, that kept the warmth burning in this territory.

I especially want to thank the female workers of the Smoked Fish Workshop, the porters of the grain station, the craftsmen of the carpenter group, it was your dedication that supported the granary and roofs this winter."

He paused, smiling as he raised his glass to the crowd: "Now, spring has arrived. In the coming year, we will continue to build roads, construct houses, farm fields, fish, and make our home better.

Today, regardless of status, regardless of position, whether it's the Knight standing on the city wall or the farmer working the land, this is a festival belonging to every Red Tide person.

Eat well! Drink well! Laugh heartily! At this moment, Red Tide belongs to you!"

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