With far too many people whispering sweet nothings in the garden—many of them Sardinson knights—Wei Wei and Felix, not wanting to interrupt their subordinates' romantic pursuits, quietly returned to the banquet hall to face the inevitable barrage of social obligations.
As expected, the moment they reappeared, they were immediately surrounded by guests eager to chat. Salina soon came over and whisked Wei Wei away from Felix's side, introducing her to various noble ladies.
Before leading her off, Salina said gently, "I know you don't like this kind of occasion, but since you're going to be doing business in Aldridge City, connections are important."
Wei Wei humbly took the lesson to heart. She wasn't the only one accompanying Salina—Dolores was there too, and it was clear that between the two of them, Dolores was the one who truly needed to establish her social network. Wei Wei was, at most, an extra presence.
The latter half of the engagement banquet was entirely spent socializing.
After the banquet, Felix didn't immediately pack up and return to Sardinson with his family and retainers. He still had a few matters to attend to—chiefly, continuing to learn about how the city operated and supervising the renovation of the new shop.
Of course, in Wei Wei's opinion, the biggest reason he stayed longer was to give his knights a bit more time to pursue their budding romances.
If they had left right after the banquet, those knights who had taken a liking to someone would likely have had to give up, since one evening simply wasn't enough to win a lady's heart. Not everyone was lucky like Adonis and Dolores, able to maintain contact through regular letters and bird messengers.
As proof, Felix had given his knights plenty of time off after the banquet, and when he did need help, he made sure to choose only the married ones or those already attached.
Within less than half a month, Wei Wei began hearing from her maids that several knights had successfully found love—and some had even already proposed, with great success.
She had once thought Dolores had rushed into love. Now, she realized everyone else was moving even faster.
This naturally turned her attention to Penny.
Among her close servants, aside from Qin (who hadn't come), Penny was the only unmarried maid—excluding the young maids who had returned to training.
"You don't plan on falling in love?" Wei Wei asked, watching as Penny packed up their belongings. The half-month extension was already the maximum they could spare. If they didn't leave soon, snow would make travel difficult.
"Plenty of our knights are courting you, aren't they? Not even one made your heart flutter?"
"Not at all, Madam," Penny replied calmly.
Ever since Wei Wei became a countess, Penny's status had risen with her. She had become quite the sought-after lady among the castle's men-servants, soldiers, even knights had tried to charm her. She was even more popular than Qin in that regard, largely because she was more conventionally attractive.
But Penny had truly never been tempted.
"As I've told you before, I don't intend to marry."
Unlike Qin, who delayed love for her career as a future housekeeper, Penny had always outright rejected the idea of marriage. She had once said that after growing old and no longer being needed by her master, she'd simply enter a convent.
Recently, her goals had changed: she now aimed to save enough to buy land and property, so that when she was old and frail, she could live off rent and savings, and hire someone to care for her.
With her current income, that wasn't an unrealistic goal at all.
As for why she had such a mindset—it probably had to do with her background. Wei Wei had never asked for the full story, but she knew Penny hadn't had a good family life. She had been sold off and had cut ties with her kin ever since. She never mentioned her past.
So Wei Wei could only say, "All right. If you ever change your mind, let me know."
"Yes, Madam." But I never will, Penny thought silently.
The one most reluctant to see the Sardinson group leave turned out to be Salina. Not even Dolores and Adonis—who were about to be separated as lovers—looked as despondent as she did. During the farewell, she looked like she wished she could hop into the carriage herself.
She truly didn't want them to leave. She was reluctant to part with her daughter-in-law, and even more so with Wei Wei, who had become a rare, close friend despite their age gap. She didn't join them on the return journey only because Elina was still in Aldridge, and she couldn't leave her alone.
Before they departed, Salina packed them off with boxes and boxes of gifts.
As the weather continued to cool, the journey home was tougher than the one that brought them there. Thankfully, they weren't in a rush, so they took it slow.
After returning from Aldridge City, the winter passed in much the same rhythm as the year before. They were busy slaughtering pigs and selling meat, preparing for Christmas, officiating peasant weddings, celebrating their second wedding anniversary, and marking Dolores' fifteenth birthday. It was an unusually lively winter season, filled with a few grand feasts.
Time seemed to pass without notice—neither too busy nor too idle.
As the ice thawed and the earth warmed, spring planting season arrived once more.
With a year of experience under her belt, Wei Wei was even more confident in managing the spring planting. The serfs noticed right away—there were many new crops in the fields, ones they hadn't seen before. This year, Sardinson Castle had barely planted any wheat or legumes. The fields were full of corn, sweet potatoes, potatoes, and other unfamiliar plants.
But no one complained.
The wheat harvest had been excellent for two years straight. Even after paying taxes, most families had plenty of grain left. They could easily survive another year just by eating what they had in storage. Plus, many peasants had other ways to earn during the off-season, bringing both food and coin home. It was practically impossible to go hungry anymore.
And they all knew just how high the yields from corn and sweet potatoes were. With these crops, food shortages were no longer a threat.
It wasn't just those living on the estate. People from outside the manor had also started planting corn and sweet potatoes, hoping for a bountiful harvest come summer.
Especially since some of the older folk warned that this year's weather looked ominous—and could affect the harvest.
That worried everyone. The new crops were said to be hardy, but wheat was notoriously fragile. A bad year could mean catastrophic losses—maybe even a complete wipeout.
And sure enough, spring came without rain.
By May, spring was almost over, and Sardinson hadn't seen a single drop of rain all season. If not for the irrigation canals they had dug beforehand, pulling water from the river, most wheat fields would've withered from drought.
But even with the canals, people worried that the river might dry up.
Sardinson's rivers had never dried out before—but that was when no one had diverted water from them. Now, with no rainfall, water levels dropped rapidly. Some shallow canals were already dry, requiring manual transport. People were terrified that one morning they'd wake up and find the riverbed empty.
Fortunately, Sardinson's climate was naturally cool, and groundwater seemed abundant. While the rivers did drop, the cool weather minimized evaporation. After a certain point, the water levels stabilized and didn't fall further.
Still, crop losses were inevitable.
Felix and Wei Wei had already begun discussing tax reductions. Their estate had diverse income streams—if the fields yielded nothing, the worst that would happen was a loss in tax revenue. But for the common folk, it was a matter of life and death. If cutting taxes meant they could live better, then so be it. Wei Wei had always thought the land tax was too high anyway and had wanted to reduce it.
Shortly after the tax reduction announcement went out, the heavens seemed to finally remember Sardinson. In late April, dark clouds began to gather. The wind howled, and for several days, the sky was pitch black.
No rain fell—yet—but it looked imminent.
Now people weren't worried about rain—they were worried how much rain would fall. The sky looked ready to burst. Would it pour so hard it ruined the crops?
It was during these dark, overcast days that little Anthony's first birthday arrived.
Though he wasn't walking yet, the baby could crawl quickly and already call out "Mama" and "Papa," as well as a few other simple words. Everyone loved to coax him into talking—he had become even more charming and irresistible.
Under Wei Wei's care, Anthony had grown strong and healthy. He hadn't fallen ill once all year. On his first birthday, he had six tiny teeth—four neat little incisors, and the outer lower ones just starting to peek through his gums. Because of teething, he tried to bite everything he grabbed.
Wei Wei wouldn't let that become a habit. She made him teething biscuits and had someone watch him constantly. Any time he tried to gnaw on something he shouldn't, the item would be taken away and replaced with a biscuit to redirect his attention.
Slowly, the clever boy understood: that only the special biscuits were for chewing. Now, whenever he wanted to bite something, he'd reach out his hand, drooling, to ask for one.
Of course, he couldn't say "biscuit" yet. He could only babble syllables. But everyone understood what he meant, and that was enough.
Anthony had started eating solids, but Wei Wei hadn't weaned him yet. Suitable nutritional supplements for babies were scarce, and without proper immunizations, children were extremely prone to illness. Though newborn survival rates had improved under Wei Wei's guidance, this era's lack of medicine meant that infant deaths were still common.
So she watched Anthony like a hawk. She didn't let strangers near him and insisted on personally caring for him whenever possible. She constantly thought of ways to strengthen his immune system. Even though her milk alone was no longer enough to meet his nutritional needs, it still gave him antibodies. For that reason alone, she insisted on continuing to breastfeed while supplementing with solids.
No one thought that was strange. In peasant families, babies were weaned very early. But among the nobility, it wasn't uncommon for children to continue breastfeeding until they were several years old.