In Viscount Moro's castle.
The room was illuminated by a large candle lit by pine resin. Viscount Mo Ruo sat behind the desk, holding a small seal in his hand, turning it continuously with an unchanged expression, thinking about the problems he had faced recently.
The room was very quiet and the curtains were drawn tightly. This was his private space and one of the few places where he could completely calm down.
Just like his father taught him when he was a teenager long ago.
"You must think deeply about solutions to problems. You must learn to discover the true nature of the world on your own. Any information provided by others will lead you astray. This is what it means to be a qualified man."
Three days have passed. Given the speed of the carrier bird, the other party should have received the message long ago, but there has been no reply yet.
If they didn't do it, there would be no need to remain silent. But if they did do it, it would be very interesting that they still remain silent.
They know that their behavior has been exposed, but they don't want to talk to me at the moment and continue to delay time. There may be only two possibilities.
One is that they are still looking for opportunities, opportunities to obtain their own secrets, which will make them more confident in negotiations.
Second, the man in the prison is already a discarded pawn. The other party has already obtained what he wants to know and what he wants, so he doesn't care.
Whichever possibility is true, it means that the other party still has manpower in the forest and the city at the foot of the mountain, giving them the flexibility to do so.
I'm really making a fool of myself.
Although he is just a low-ranking viscount, as a family that has been passed down for more than 20 generations, does the Moruo family really have so little shame?
Compared with the other party's malice, this neglect and indifference made Viscount Mo Ruo even more furious.
Humph, if you're like that, then I'll have no choice but to fight to the death. Having lost that key item, it was virtually impossible for him to unlock the restrictions within the ruins, which practically pushed him into a desperate situation.
Viscount Mo Ruo stayed in the study for a while before leaving the room.
"Sir, do you have any instructions for me?" When I walked out of the room, the loyal butler had been waiting for a long time.
"Tomorrow, have the man who was caught dragged into the city, have his crime publicly announced, and then have him hanged."
"Oh, by the way, put two signs on him before he died: 'Fire-Eyed Warbler' and 'Blindfolded Man'. I want to see if they react to that."
"Yes, I understand." The butler bowed deeply and followed the short man silently.
"Is that high-ranking investigator from Titanya still here? Have him come see me and tell him I'm inviting him to dinner."
"Yes." The butler responded again.
"If you don't let me get it, then I will make you lose everything." In the gray stone brick corridor, Viscount Mo Ruo showed a cruel smile.
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At the Roentgen Chamber of Commerce's headquarters, Loran Hill was sitting with a group of people in a warm little room. They sat around a burning pile of wood in the center, which was filled with dead branches and charcoal, emitting a fiery heat.
The inhabitants of the southern border of the empire were different from those in the north. They joined the Green Empire later and still retained many of their past customs. Rather than using beautiful but inconvenient fireplaces, they preferred this kind of fire where they could gather together.
There might be some smoke and ashes, making the room a bit untidy, but it was convenient to build and could accommodate more people around the fire, cooking something and smoking sausages hung from the roof.
Because winter is coming, local residents begin to prepare for the winter, and Loran Hill sits by the fire, learning to knit a sweater from the aunt next to her.
"Miss Messiah is a very quick learner." A portly auntie sitting by the stove praised the girl a little as she watched the thread in her hands gradually become smoother.
“In fact, I’ve come across something similar before.”
The girl recalled how Bai Zao had taught her how to knit in that remote mountain village in the East. Although it wasn't knitting a sweater, the two had many similarities, so it was easier to learn.
"That's really good. Usually there aren't many young girls doing this. It's mostly us older people who do it."
Several of the older women smiled. Most of them were local residents, servants in the residence, kitchen helpers, and the like. Besides them, there were only four younger people: Loran Hill, Lottie, and two local girls.
At this moment, they were also learning to knit sweaters, but their stitches were not as neat as Loran Hill's. Of course, if we were to talk about the worst, it wasn't these two, but Lottie who was thinking hard on the other side.
Although the eldest daughter of the Duke's family is quite good at wielding swords, she is somewhat unsatisfactory in fine craftsmanship.
How do you thread this stitch and hook it together? She looked at the tangled wool in her hand and felt it was so difficult. However, everyone was doing it, and Lottie didn't want to give up. She didn't want her sister Messia to think that she was a girl who liked to escape and had no will.
When that gaze looked over from time to time, Lottie felt warm and nervous. She hoped that this gentle girl who was like an older sister would look at her, but she did not want to expose her weak side.
"If you have no idea, just put it aside for now. Or come sit next to me and watch for a while. Then maybe you will slowly understand it." The girl looked at the distressed Lottie, waved to her and asked her to sit over.
"Um."
Amid the envious gazes of the other two girls, Lottie changed her seat and sat next to the blonde girl in a white dress. She watched her hands threading the thread slowly and skillfully, her light blue eyes quiet and serious, and a faint sense of tranquility emerged from her.
I wish this was really my sister.
Lottie thought for a moment, then shook her head slightly, and looked intently at Roland Hill's slender and white fingers, which, in the butterfly-like trajectory, were weaving the plain wool into neat and beautiful clothes.
The surface of the sweater looks very layered. The bottom layer is dense and smooth, with raised stripes on it, revealing the lines of the sweater. Then there are small embellishments scattered between these stripes and the bottom layer. These embellishments are like leaves and berries, making the clothes look beautiful and not monotonous.
As the knitting time gradually prolonged, part of it was placed on the white skirt at the knees, baked by the fire, reflecting some of the luster of the silk thread. If you touch it with your hand, you can feel the softness and warmth of the wool thread.
Watching the sweater slowly take shape, although it was not knitted by herself, Lottie also felt a faint sense of satisfaction and happiness.
"Is this dress knitted according to my body shape?" She looked at the girl in white dress sitting by the fire curiously.
"No." The girl's quiet voice came from the fireside.
"It's for you, Lottie."
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