Chapter 89: 89 Inspecting the Mulberry Fields

Chapter 89: Inspection of Sangdi

After affirming Jenny’s strategy, the next matter was deciding who would carry the message.

First, the messenger must be from the Purple Berry Tribe. Second, he ought to be someone Slain would recognize as Jenny’s trusted confidant—this would strengthen the credibility of their plea for aid.

Jenny recommended the ideal candidate: Laurence, the descendant of the family steward who had served the Frank family since the previous generation. He had remained loyal to the Franks, and now in the Purple Berry Tribe, he served both as a servant and as an official handling administrative affairs.

Laurence’s loyalty was solid, and his wit sharp. Among all in the Purple Berry Tribe, save Horn and Jenny, he was the most suitable to deliver the message.

When the meeting ended, Ronin was assigned to a freshly cleaned room for rest.

It was said that several such vacant houses still stood well-preserved in the Purple Berry Tribe—all once belonging to those who had once lived here but now resided in the Ash Soil Tribe.

“Arrange three guards to depart at first light tomorrow for the Bamboo Grove Tribe. Inform Reddar and Tom to come here at once.”

In the room, Ronin instructed Macken.

“Are you afraid I can’t defeat Slain?”

Macken straightened his chest. “My lord, though I always lose to Commander Reddar in sparring, it’s because he is strong—not because I am weak.”

“I guarantee Slain is no match for me. I don’t even need the commander’s help to handle him!”

Ronin smiled. “I know your strength well. But caution is the path to longevity. Should the Ash Soil Tribe conceal their true strength and send forth several high-ranking knights at once, we’d be in a perilous position.”

Macken paused, then understood Ronin’s intent. “Understood. I’ll arrange it immediately. Reddar and his men will arrive at Purple Berry by evening.”

“Keep it secret.”

Watching Macken depart, Ronin stretched and lay down on the bed to rest.

The reason he’d given was only part of it. He was also wary of Jenny and Horn.

Though both had pledged allegiance, they were still strangers—barely known for less than a day. Ronin understood the old saying: one may know a man’s face, but never his heart.

Jenny’s plan was brilliant—it would lure Slain and his men out of the Ash Soil Tribe’s fortifications, sparing Ronin the trouble of a siege and greatly reducing losses.

But one crucial point remained: what if Jenny and Horn’s loyalty was only feigned? What if, once Slain arrived, they coordinated with him from within, turning Ronin’s own position into a trap?

The likelihood was low—but who could guarantee it wouldn’t happen?

When one could avoid being placed at a disadvantage, Ronin chose to avoid it. As he’d said: caution is the path to longevity.

Night passed silently. At dawn the next day, the three guards Macken had dispatched left the Purple Berry Tribe, heading for the Bamboo Grove Tribe.

Meanwhile, Jenny sent Laurence off with her letter, bound for the Ash Soil Tribe.

Though Laurence would travel as swiftly as possible, he would not reach the Ash Soil Tribe until after noon.

Even if Slain immediately dispatched troops, they would not arrive at Purple Berry until dusk.

That window of time was more than enough for Reddar and Tom to arrive from the Bamboo Grove Tribe—especially since Ronin’s side was far closer.

After breakfast, Knight Horn gathered all the people of the Purple Berry Tribe. He introduced Ronin’s identity clearly and declared that from now on, they would all serve this young noble.

Once the tribe members learned their own chieftains had submitted to Ronin, they voiced no objections. They knelt immediately, swearing loyalty to their new lord.

The advantage of voluntary surrender was now evident.

Ronin did not need to spend time or effort implanting his image into their minds. He needed only to give orders to Jenny and Horn—they would see them carried out.

Yet, the fact remained: these people had recognized Jenny and Horn as leaders for years. That loyalty had to be broken.

After this campaign against the wild tribes, Ronin would relocate and exchange populations among the tribes—diminishing their attachment to old leaders while cultivating reverence for the Forest Keep and himself.

“Jenny, I’d like you to compile a census of the Purple Berry Tribe.”

After the gathering, Ronin, accompanied by Jenny and her family, walked to Sangdi to inspect the mulberry trees.

“A census?”

Jenny frowned. “What details do you require?”

“Simple. Record every family member’s name, gender, age, marital status. And mark those with special skills—carpenters, masons, blacksmiths, and the like.”

Ronin entrusted this task to Jenny for two reasons: first, she came from a viscount’s family—her education far surpassed Wilson’s, making her capable of the task. Second, it would spare Wilson time, allowing the population registry to be completed sooner.

At that moment, Elin leapt forward. “Lord Ronin, let me help you with this!”

“You?”

Ronin glanced at the girl in surprise. “Are you sure you can do it? Can you write?”

“I can!”

Elin puffed out her chest confidently. “Mother taught me to read and write when I was six or seven. I know many things!”

That was rare indeed.

“Very well. I’ll entrust it to you.”

Ronin smiled. “If you do it well, I’ll reward you. Hmm… call me ‘Brother Ronin.’”

He’d originally planned to offer a silver or gold coin, but giving money to a child seemed inappropriate. A little charm would do better.

“Done!”

Elin agreed instantly, turned, and dashed home to fetch paper and ink—no longer bothering to accompany them on the inspection.

“Jenny, I didn’t expect you to nurture Elin so diligently, deep in these mountains.”

Ronin turned to her. “Perhaps when she grows older, I’ll find many ways to benefit from her assistance.”

“To serve you is our honor—and Elin’s honor,” Jenny replied with a smile. “This child is lively and loves learning. She’ll gain much by staying beside you.”

“Then let her follow me from now on.”

Ronin said. “You two may also reside in Forest Town. But I still hope, Knight Horn, that you’ll manage the silkworm and mulberry industry for me—so I ask you to remain here in Purple Berry.”

“Perhaps I should rename this place ‘Purple Berry Village.’”

Ronin looked upward, where many mulberry trees stood against the hillside.

Autumn had officially arrived nearly a month ago. Some mulberry leaves still held a trace of green, but most had turned yellow.

Clearly, the leaves were sufficient for Horn to expand his rearing slightly. The reason he hadn’t raised more silkworms was likely due to insufficient hands.

“When we subdue the Ash Soil Tribe and the Black Collar Tribe, these villages will be connected. I’m asking you to stay here, but you may travel freely to others.”

“All is at your command, my lord.”

Horn chuckled. At middle age, one develops peculiar hobbies. Though a knight, his greatest passion—beyond charging into battle—was this very work.

“I actually enjoy studying these things. I never imagined you’d be interested as well.”

“Silkworm cocoons yield silk. Silk can be woven into fine fabric, into comfortable garments.”

Ronin explained his understanding of sericulture. Jenny and Horn listened, bewildered—they simply could not fathom the connection between white fruit and cloth.

They truly could not comprehend it. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have eaten only the pupae inside the cocoons.

As they spoke, they walked deeper into the mulberry grove.

According to Horn’s account, the Purple Berry Tribe’s mulberry trees were scattered haphazardly across a few acres—here one, there one—with no planning at all.

Most of these mulberry trees grew naturally; only a few sprouted from mulberry seeds, and none had yet grown tall.

Roning mentally calculated: if one mulberry tree could sustain twenty silkworms, the Purple Fruit Tribe’s current 345 trees could support a total of 6,900 silkworms.

Theoretically, that was barely enough to produce four or five silk dresses.

“The trees are still too few.”

After inspecting the grove, Roning told Horn: “Our first step must be to expand mulberry cultivation. I suggest you designate ten acres for planting mulberries and increase leaf production.”

“That’s possible, my lord, but what about the grain for Purple Fruit Village?”

Jenny frowned. The tribe’s grain supply was already insufficient; reducing arable land would make things worse.

“Don’t worry,” Roning said. “I’ll arrange for grain to be transported from Forest Town.”

“The villagers of Purple Fruit, like those of Green Bamboo Tribe, serve me—and I shall provide them with food.”

In past years, Forest Town had even sold grain to Lord Sain’s domain; now, keeping it all and diverting a portion to feed two hundred people in Purple Fruit posed no problem.

“Then it’s settled!”

Horn agreed. “But my lord, we have no mulberry fruits at all. To expand, we’d have to wait until next June or July.”

Hmm?

Roning paused. Wait—expand only next year?

Suddenly he understood: they had no knowledge of mulberry cultivation techniques.

“You don’t need mulberry fruits to expand,” Roning said, stepping aside and drawing Macken’s longsword to sever a branch. “When spring comes and the mulberries sprout new leaves, choose sturdy branches like this—about a dozen centimeters long, with two or three leaves at the tip—and plant them directly into moist soil. They’ll grow into full trees.”

Horn scratched his head, clearly skeptical. Could this possibly work?

Jenny, unfamiliar with cultivation, asked in disbelief: “This… really works?”

“Of course!” Roning smiled. “This method is called ‘cutting.’ It works for many plants. When you plan the land, space the trees appropriately—not too close, not too far apart. About a thousand trees per acre should do.”

Horn gasped. “My lord, you know so much!”

Jenny could not help but marvel: “My lord, you truly carry the noble blood of the Wu Mountain family—your knowledge leaves us awestruck!”

Roning laughed. “The more you see, the more you learn. But much of it is only surface knowledge—we all must work together.”

“Come, Knight Horn, I’ll show you how to boil the cocoons.”

“Boil the cocoons?”

Horn followed Roning’s steps. “Is that a new way of eating?”

(End of chapter)