Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 688: Chapter 391: The Art of Negotiation

The wind and snow pounded against the dome of the Earth Tower Castle, producing a low hum.

Only the wall lamps were lit in the study, and the air was filled with the warmth of black tea.

Louis leaned back in the curved chair, flipping through the latest edition of the "Red Tide Daily".

The coarse pulp paper still had a faint scent of wood shavings, the layout was tidy, and the handwriting was clear.

Although the paper wasn’t great, it was clear that the editorial staff had put in a lot of effort.

Since Red Tide popularized literacy education and night schools, the number of literate people had rapidly increased.

Louis then had the Department of Education try publishing a newspaper, filling it with local news and simple stories.

The coarse paper was enough to provide ordinary people access to the latest information in the Northern Territory, the Empire, and even the world.

Although there had long been periodicals circulating among the nobility in the Jade Federation and the upper echelons of the Empire, the literacy rate was so low that ordinary folks would never see them in their lifetimes.

Red Tide, for the first time in this world, had brought writing to the masses.

Louis promoted literacy not for personal betterment but for the future of production.

He knew that while illiterates could work, they couldn’t understand procedures, identify symbols, or follow blueprints in workshops.

In Red Tide, only those who were literate could become craftsmen, recorders, grassroots officials, or army officers.

Literacy was the first threshold for entering the system of Red Tide.

If Red Tide wanted to expand, to build, to unify the Northern Territory in the future, it must first grant the masses reading and writing abilities.

Only those who understood the rules would be willing to follow them, and only those who understood the system would actively uphold it.

There was a knock on the door.

Bradley entered, holding a few documents: "Sir, the main structure of the new castle has stabilized, and it will be completed by next autumn."

Louis didn’t even lift his head: "Emily and the others went there again today?"

"They went this afternoon." Bradley smiled slightly, "They care more about the new castle than you do."

Louis put down the newspaper and looked up, asking, "What has that envoy from the Imperial Capital, Sorrell, been up to these days?"

This was the first time Louis had taken the initiative to ask since Sorrell arrived over ten days ago.

Bradley reported truthfully: "He idles in the city during the day. He spends the most time in the shelter and the administration hall. On the seventh night, he sent two High-tier Knights to try to approach the East District."

Louis raised an eyebrow: "Were they able to get close?"

"No," Bradley said calmly, "they were stopped by patrols before even touching the second layer of fencing. After that, he became more restrained."

Louis chuckled softly.

"But since that day, he started using gold coins to bribe the servants and cooks at the guesthouse," Bradley continued. "He wasn’t trying to gather military intelligence but to find out your preferences, like what wine you like, what food you favor, or... what kind of women you fancy."

Louis held his forehead, seemingly amused: "He’s putting quite an effort into it."

"I told the servants to make something up," Bradley said lightly.

Louis laughed, "That’s fine. Let them earn some extra money. It looks like he’s trying the flattery route."

He stood up, picked up the black tea, and paused by the window for a moment.

Outside, the wind and snow were fierce, and the castle lights were shrouded in a haze.

"It’s about time." Louis paused, "Go tell him, I just risked the snow to come back. Although I’m very tired, out of respect for the Second Prince, I am willing to see him immediately. Give him twenty minutes to prepare."

"Yes, Sir." Bradley accepted the command and left.

The study returned to silence, and Louis continued to lower his eyes to the newspaper on the table.

In fact, he had never left the Red Tide Territory for a single step.

The reason for not seeing Sorrell was simple: to let him stay in this city a few more days and see the reality of Red Tide with his own eyes.

And the gift he was waiting for was ready.

......

Lord’s Mansion, the main conference room.

The furnishings here were simple but nearly spartan for a Lord of the Northern Territory, except for the giant map of the Northern Territory on the wall, which stood out dramatically.

Louis Calvin pushed open the heavy oak door and strode in.

He was not wearing the noble garb Sorrell had imagined, nor was he clad in armor that symbolized force, but just an ordinary dark gray heavy coat.

A biting cold gust followed him into the warm hall, instantly dissipating the cloying Southern incense in the air.

"Sir Sorrell! Sorry for keeping you waiting!"

Louis’s voice was cheerful and warm. He didn’t head to the main seat but instead walked quickly to Sorrell and clasped his hand.

"The snow outside was too heavy, and there was a hitch on the Ice River route; I really couldn’t get away. Bradley didn’t neglect you, did he?"

Louis’s grin was as bright as a sincere young man from next door, with genuine apology in his eyes.

Sorrell was momentarily stiffened by this sudden enthusiasm.

In the past ten days, he had seen the suffocating throughput of the industrial area, the refugee conversion line in the shelter like a precision instrument, and the luxury of having an Extraordinary Knight at the gate.

In his imagination, the master of Red Tide should be a sinister, ruthless tyrant radiating terrifying authority.

But this young man before him, aside from being somewhat handsome, was too... ordinary.

However, it was precisely this stark contrast that sent a deep chill into Sorrell’s bones.

When a tiger roars at you, at least you know it wants to eat you.

But if a tiger smiles at you like a human and warmly places its arm around your shoulder, you’ll never know what it intends to do.

"I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare." Sorrell hurriedly withdrew his hand, bowing deeply, "It’s my honor to meet you, Your Excellency."