133 Radiance

The clerk and the estate bailiff naturally did not need to wait in line.

Leading the militia officers, the few of them walked across the swaying log bridge one by one along the path cleared by the crowd.

On the other side of the wooden bridge, there were still many villagers, but they could now walk at close to a normal speed.

When they slowed down once more, only a single turning corner remained to block their view from Wu Qingchen and Ross’s honey-cell plots.

"Has it increased? Has it increased? Right?" "It looks like it's increased a bit!" "It should increase just as much!" "But I really can't tell"

Directly ahead, more than a dozen farmers and farmwives were either bending over or squatting beside the plots, pushing aside the buckwheat flowers and leaves to closely inspect the buckwheat stalks underneath.

Plots that had already entered the flowering period could, of course, not be trampled on carelessly.

Naturally, with so many villagers gathered, the already narrow corner was easily crammed so tightly that even turning sideways made it difficult to pass through the remaining gap.

As administrators of Ekli Village, O'Connor and Thor were, of course, very familiar with every villager and the locations of the plots for which these villagers needed to pay their tithes.

Such a landmark location like a corner easily became a natural boundary point for plot ownership during the village's development.

The dozen or so villagers crowded at the corner were the owners of these very plots.

Waving his hand to stop the militia officers following behind from dispersing the crowd, O'Connor slowly ambled over: "What are you doing?"

"Ah, Bailiff." "The Bailiff is here!" "The clerk has come too"

"Please take a look, Bailiff and Clerk!"

"Yes, hurry and have them look!"

The farmers turned their heads one after another. The expressions on their faces were very similar—filled with suspicion, anxiety, and urgency. Not a single person remembered to take off their hats and bow.

"What is" O'Connor did not mind: "What do you want us to look at?"

"Look at the grain seeds" "Please take a look, have our grain seeds increased?"

"Hmm" O'Connor tilted his head to look at the clerk beside him, who immediately nodded: "Alright, let's take a look."

O'Connor and Thor squatted down simultaneously.

Parting the flowers, lifting the leaves, and staring at the sparse grain seeds section by section underneath, O'Connor looked for a long time.

It seemed there was no difference at all.

Thinking this, O'Connor glanced to the side: "How is it? Have the grain seeds increased?"

Thor shook his head slightly.

It seemed there truly was no difference.

Arriving at this conclusion, O'Connor stood back up and, amidst the hopeful gazes of the villagers, slowly shook his head.

The light in the eyes of the farmers and farmwives rapidly dimmed.

Following the path once again cleared for them, O'Connor and Thor rounded the corner.

Just like at the previous corner, beside every plot ahead, several or even a dozen farmers were squatting and inspecting the buckwheat.

The two men quickened their pace and walked over.

"Ah! The Bailiff is here!" "The clerk has arrived!"

"Hurry and have them look!"

The same request, and the same omission of taking off their hats to bow.

However, the farmers on this side had completely lost the suspicion and urgency on their faces, replaced by a thick sense of joy and the eager anticipation of letting others see.

O'Connor and Thor squatted down once more.

Beneath the flowers and leaves, the rings of grain seeds had clearly increased quite a bit.

"Ah!"

Even though they had already discerned clues from the farmers' expressions and actions, upon truly seeing these wheat stalks with their own eyes, O'Connor still could not help letting out a low cry.

"Every section has two or three more!" As a clerk, Thor was much more sensitive to data.

With the clerk uttering these words—uttering this official verdict—a thunderous cheer instantly erupted around O'Connor and Thor.

The two men stood up again. As he turned around, O'Connor inadvertently saw that, upon hearing the joyful cheers from this side, the farmers at the corner they had just passed lowered their heads in unison, the farmwives covered their faces, and several began to sob aloud.

Around a single corner, one side rejoiced, while the other wept.

No, it was not entirely just joy.

O'Connor also noticed that although the farmers around him all wore an uncontainable excitement and intensely fervent delight, these villagers, whenever they repeatedly looked toward the direction closer to Ross and Moyer's family plots, had eyes filled with envy and a deep, burning yearning.

O'Connor and Thor exchanged glances once more and quickened their pace forward.

The commotion just now had naturally been witnessed by the nearby villagers. Noticing the approach of the bailiff and the clerk, another household of villagers immediately hurried forward: "Please help us take a look too!"

"This—so much!" Squatting down once again, O'Connor drew in a sharp breath.

"Every section has three or four more!" Thor's eyes widened as well. The additionally generated quantity was already approaching half of the original yield!

Despite this, this household of villagers still gazed eagerly toward the direction closer to the beehive.

Judging by the intensity of the longing in their eyes, O'Connor had no doubt that if they had the strength, these few farmers would immediately lift up their own plots and carry them further ahead.

The villagers' feelings were quite easy to understand.

The further forward they went, the denser the buckwheat grain clustering became in the plots.

"Five or six more!"

"Seven or eight more!"

"Doubled!"

"It's almost—almost reached double!"

With every plot of buckwheat inspected, clerk Thor's voice grew a bit more excited. By the time they reached the plots where the yield had doubled, the clerk's lips had already begun to tremble uncontrollably.

Near this area, the observing villagers became even more concentrated.

Yet, strangely enough, at the earlier plots where the grain count hadn't increased, or where it had only increased by ten, twenty, thirty, or forty percent, the plot owners and their watching neighbors would invariably talk amongst themselves, shouting loudly in a lively commotion.

But here, where the buckwheat grain count had directly doubled or even tripled, the plot owners naturally stood beside the public land shouting and laughing, unleashing wave after wave of ecstatic shrieks, screams, and even roars. Meanwhile, the surrounding villagers were much quieter, the entire atmosphere resembling a bizarre pilgrimage.

In Ekli Village, freemen owned at the very least ten scattered plots, but the experimental site chosen by Wu Qingchen was the flattest and widest plain in Ekli Village outside of the lord's demesne. The plot areas owned by villagers here usually accounted for more than one-eighth of their entire household's total acreage.

A doubling of yield here carried exceptionally significant meaning.

Therefore, unlike the locations further ahead where the increase in seeding rate was less astonishing, reaching this point—even while still envying the plots closer to the center—the results here were already sufficient to immensely satisfy these owners and thoroughly shock the observing villagers.

"O Lord! Thank you for your blessing, thank you for your watchfulness, thank you for making the buckwheat fill with grain!"

Amidst the crowd's observation, facing the direction of the rising sun, Hansel's entire family repeatedly patted their shoulders on both sides, touched their chests, and constantly chanted the few holy words they had managed to memorize, alongside incoherent prayers and expressions of gratitude.

The villagers quite understood Hansel's excitement. This unlucky wretch had recently suffered a severe injury to his family's plow ox—even Ross hadn't been able to cure it immediately, and it was said they would have to wait until the next worship of the Lord for it to fully recover.

Now, it was all better; their plots had magically grown so much extra grain in one go, more than making up for all the delayed farmwork.

A dozen steps away, amidst even more envious gazes of the crowd, Richard's entire family was grinning from ear to ear. This was the luckiest fellow: his daughter had betrothed herself to Ross's family in advance, they had profited greatly during the summer corvée labor, and now autumn had brought a visible bumper harvest.

Another dozen steps away was the Sanchez family, the only ones who were not envied.

The younger brother of Brown, the former cowherd, was kneeling on the ground at this moment, constantly wiping away his tears.

Ever since Brown caused injuries to all the village's draft cattle, this pitiful fellow had already endured too much overt and covert scorn and targeting—especially after Wu Qingchen/Ross, under the guise of "dispelling the curse," thoroughly cleaned up the lord's livestock barn and the cowherd's lavish residence. The looks Ekli Village's villagers cast toward the Sanchez family now carried a few extra traces of eerie strangeness alongside the original disgust and hatred.

"Look! Look at this, all of you! I am not cursed! The Lord has blessed my family just the same! I am definitely not cursed! My family is definitely not cursed either!"

Not cursed?

Perhaps!

However, this damned fellow, this sinful soul, had actually been granted mercy by the Lord, had actually managed to share in Wu Qingchen/Ross's light, and had actually been able to enjoy the benefits of increased buckwheat production. The villagers standing nearby inevitably saw their hatred meter for Sanchez tick up another notch.

"Did you see that?"

Another dozen steps further, Upton looked at the plot owners who were either giving thanks, rejoicing, or acting frantic. Touching the buckwheat stalks inside his outer robe through the fabric, he said in an extremely low voice to his two sons: "With things like this now, do you dare go and pluck a single wheat stalk?"

Imagining the consequences of doing such a thing, Dener and Dubin shivered in unison.

For the medieval world, the monumental significance of a staple crop yield increase could never be overemphasized, and news of it could never be taken too lightly.

Like all the plot owners and watching villagers present who preferred to believe it rather than doubt it, everyone who heard the rumors—regardless of age, gender, or social stratum—was either already standing at this honey-cell plot or rushing toward it at top speed.

More and more people were arriving.

Holman, the medieval world's bribery expert, had arrived; Wayne had arrived; Kars had arrived.

Old William's neighbors, Freeman, Old Holt, and Toldt, had arrived.

Grace's suitors, Elena, Stacia, and Lillian, had arrived.

The artisans of Ekli Village—the taster, the courier, the plowman, the carter, the baker, and the miller—had arrived.

Espil, the head of the militia, had arrived with two militia officers.

Iffrit / Fair, the secular magnate of Ekli Village and manager of village affairs, had arrived with a bunch of militia officers.

John / Playa / Akford, the religious leader of Ekli Village, had arrived with a bunch of militia officers.

"Look, a lord is indeed a lord!"

Retreating to the edge of the public land along with other lower-class folk to make way for the two lords who had arrived at roughly the same time, O'Connor pointed to the lower-class folk around them who had run so hard their faces were flushed red, kicking up clouds of dust all the way, and said to Thor: "Even with buckwheat stalks growing extra grain, they can still walk at a leisurely, unhurried pace."

As he spoke, the two lords who had just rounded the corner inspected two clusters of buckwheat stalks and discovered that the grain-setting rate was growing increasingly high. The manager and the pastor simultaneously quickened their pace.

"Look, a lord is indeed a lord! Even when running, they are so dignified."

No sooner had he said this than the manager running in front tripped and simultaneously knocked the pastor trailing behind him sprawling to the ground. The militia officers hurriedly ran forward and scrambled to help the two men back up.

"Look, uh—uh—" O'Connor temporarily didn't know what to say, and Thor quickly chimed in: "A lord is indeed a lord! In order to see sooner the buckwheat that can let the villagers eat a little fuller, they are willing to take a tumble themselves!"

What did taking a tumble matter?

Lord Playa, who had no idea he had almost caused a tricky boot-licking dilemma, climbed up unconcernedly, not even bothering to brush off the mud, and hurried forward behind the manager to keep running.

Run, approach, inspect the buckwheat, marvel in his heart, run again, inspect again, marvel again, continue running, continue inspection, marvel immensely!

The closer they got, the more alarmed they felt, and the more joyful they became.

This was buckwheat brimming with grain!

Buckwheat that had set several times the grain!

A miracle! A living miracle!

The pastor was overjoyed in his heart.

Although he had never heard of "auspicious omens" or what constituted a "bountiful harvest," the underlying logic was universal. Since ancient times, unearthly portents descending from the heavens—especially those clearly beneficial to people's livelihood and tithes—had always been the prime opportunity for bureaucrats to suck up to their superiors!

At that very moment, from another direction, the serf crowd that had been specially segregated for labor, along with Wu Qingchen and Delei who had received the news belatedly, finally appeared within everyone's view.

"Ross is coming!" "Ross is coming!" "Ross is coming!"

"Ross! Ross!" "Ross! Ross!" "Ross! Ross!"

"Ross / Moyer is coming!" "Ross / Moyer is coming!" "Ross / Moyer is coming!"

Like a tidal wave of roaring sound, countless cheers, boundless excitement, joy, and anticipation surged toward the direction Wu Qingchen was walking from.

As dusk approached, the direction Wu Qingchen walked from happened to be directly against the slowly setting sun.

Those whose plot buckwheat yield had doubled saw it—

Those whose plot buckwheat yield had increased by a few tens of percent saw it—

Those whose plot buckwheat showed no change at all, yet still harbored hope, saw it—

Those whose plots weren't even anywhere near here, yet still harbored hope, saw it—

Every single villager of Ekli Village, every single person hoping to escape hunger, weeping, and death—

Could clearly see that a faint halo of light was radiating around Wu Qingchen's figure.

"The path walked by a saint is overgrown with thorns and consumed by leaping flames—"

Witnessing this scene, as he squatted beside the buckwheat field, a familiar holy verse instantly surged into Playa's mind:

"Yet his radiance illuminates the four directions."