The commoners had sent wedding gifts. Since it wasn't possible to invite everyone to the celebratory banquet, Wei Wei felt it was necessary to at least give something in return.
When it came to wedding favors for ordinary folks, it usually boiled down to a pack of cigarettes or a box of wedding sweets.
Cigarettes were out of the question, but wedding sweets? That was doable. Not too much—just one piece per person as a token of appreciation.
But to everyone else, this idea sounded downright extravagant.
Sugar? The kind only the wealthy could afford?
Even though Sardinson County had now mastered the art of making malt sugar, malt sugar was originally intended for lemon jam production. After a winter of depleting their wheat reserves—ground into flour for pasta or converted into malt sugar for jam—Sardinson was now relying on wheat purchases from other regions. Using precious sugar as gifts for the commoners? That was sheer extravagance.
Not only did the butler think so, but all the servants who heard Wei Wei's suggestion shared the same sentiment. Even Felix, at first, wondered if it was too much.
But he quickly realized that, for them, this wasn't extravagant at all.
In other regions, sugar—scarce and imported by foreign merchants—was as precious as honey. If they followed Wei Wei's suggestion and gave each of Sardinson's 40,000-odd commoners a single piece, the cost would bankrupt an ordinary noble.
But for them? Sugar wasn't that precious.
Though malt sugar wasn't as sweet as the imported varieties, it was still sugar.
Moreover, malt sugar was simple to produce and didn't require much raw material. Roughly two pounds of wheat could yield one pound of malt sugar. If each piece of candy was about 10 grams, one pound of hardened malt sugar could be cut into 50 pieces. With a population of around 40,000, giving one piece per person wouldn't consume more than 2,000 pounds of wheat.
To an ordinary person, 2,000 pounds of wheat was a lot. But in reality, it was just the yield of about one and a half acres of farmland—costing less than a single day's expenses for the castle.
By that calculation, not only was one piece of candy feasible, but even more wouldn't be a burden.
Felix had figured this out, but the others hadn't yet. The reason? Malt sugar wasn't sold as a standalone product. It had been developed by Wei Wei as an ingredient for lemon jam—to avoid waste—and since lemon jam was sold at sugar prices, everyone's perception of sugar remained stuck at "expensive, extremely expensive, so expensive commoners can't afford it."
So while Wei Wei spoke of sugar as a return gift so casually, everyone else was stunned by the "realistic" price of sugar, completely forgetting the actual situation.
It wasn't until Felix pointed out, "We're not short on sugar," that the servants snapped out of it.
Oh right. They weren't lacking sugar. They had plenty. Though large-scale jam production had paused after the citrus season, the kitchen still occasionally made some for cooking. Not only did the knights frequently enjoy sweet treats, but even the servants got a bowl of sweetened water every week.
So yeah, they weren't short on sugar.
Realizing this, Butler Barton promptly replied, "Understood, my lady. I'll arrange for the preparation immediately. Should we make enough for all the commoners? What size do you think is appropriate?"
To his surprise, Wei Wei waved her hand. "No, this time we'll make something else."
In her eyes, malt sugar was practically worthless. Using it as a return gift—even a pound per person—felt like taking advantage of the commoners. After all, many of the wedding gifts they'd received today were the commoners' hard-earned possessions. Giving malt sugar in return would make her conscience uneasy.
Compared to malt sugar, beet sugar was a far better option—much sweeter, too.
Coincidentally, while in the capital, she'd come across a southern merchant selling sugar beets. She'd bought his entire stock—several cartloads—and had the servant caravan bring them back. She'd even struck a deal with the merchant for future supplies. Now, using these beets to make sugar for the commoners would not only serve as a proper return gift but also help test the market.
With so many ears around, she didn't elaborate, instead teasing everyone's curiosity.
But they quickly remembered this wasn't the time for lengthy discussions. Felix still had to oversee the caravan, and the butler naturally had to assist. Wei Wei, too, had no intention of resting. She was eager to check on her precious plants in the rear garden.
Madam Nancy followed her, reporting on the plants' condition. In the masters' absence, the Bartons had taken extra care with the castle's affairs. Knowing the garden plants were Wei Wei's treasures, Madam Nancy had periodically checked in with the gardeners.
"During the coldest spells, we moved the plants indoors, but unfortunately, some still didn't survive."
Wei Wei had braced herself for this. Though the seeds from her system were cold-resistant varieties optimized to survive even a mini ice age, Sardinson's northern climate was simply too harsh for many tropical plants. Without proper greenhouses, their demise was inevitable.
For instance, the coffee trees native to Africa and the rubber trees from the Amazon—she'd planted them more out of wishful thinking than real expectation.
Arriving at the garden, she found the two newly hired florists and Terence the gardener's family waiting. Unlike the other servants' joyful excitement, their expressions were a mix of fear and apprehension.
Though they knew Wei Wei was a kind mistress, with so many plants dead under their care, how could they not be afraid?
Fortunately, Wei Wei truly didn't blame them. Entering the fenced experimental plot—already sparse after the pre-winter harvest—she saw that the cold-sensitive plants had been potted and moved indoors, leaving the area even barer.
The remaining plants were cold-hardy varieties. Though most had shed their leaves, green buds were now peeking from their branches, promising new growth with the warming weather.
The potted plants weren't here, of course. They were brought indoors at night and out during sunny days, placed conveniently near the building.
Wei Wei inspected them. Many tropical species had struggled from the start, with some seeds never sprouting. After a winter of freezing temperatures, even the sprouted ones had withered. Only a handful—like ten or so coffee, cacao, and banana saplings—had stubbornly clung to life. Though they looked pitifully malnourished in their pots, their survival was a pleasant surprise.
As for the deceased plants, their fate, though regrettable, wasn't unexpected.
So she told the anxious gardeners, "You've done well. I'd thought none of these would survive. This result is more than I hoped for. Later, go to Butler Barton for your rewards."
Sardinson's unsuitability for tropical plants wasn't their fault. Soon, she'd visit Melk, the farthest town in Sardinson County. If, as Felix said, its climate was milder, she'd buy land there to transplant these tropical plants—far better than letting them languish here.
To their astonishment, not only were they not scolded for the dead plants, but they were even praised and rewarded. Terence and the others were overjoyed, though they modestly claimed they didn't deserve it.
Wei Wei insisted they'd done excellently—better than she might have managed herself.
After a few more encouraging words, she instructed them to dispose of the dead plants and continue care as usual.
Though the weather was warming, caution was still needed to prevent further losses.
Not lingering long, Wei Wei returned to the castle. Madam Nancy asked if she wanted to rest, but Wei Wei declined. Though the journey had been exhausting, she'd spent most of it in the carriage and wasn't ready to sleep yet.
"Were the people we sent back properly settled? And the goods?"
Madam Nancy nodded. "Everything's been arranged. The goods are all stored without loss."
Wei Wei: "How were the people settled?"
Madam Nancy explained that before their departure, Felix had planned to purchase laborers, so he'd instructed the estate managers to have the serf villages build additional houses during the winter lull.
The new serfs had been dispersed among different villages to prevent unrest.
Wei Wei frowned. "The children were sent too? They're too young to live alone."
"No, they're at the church now, under Father Matthew and some servants' care." Madam Nancy elaborated, "We hadn't expected so many children, so preparations were inadequate—housing was insufficient. Fortunately, Father Matthew offered to help, so the children were with him. Also, the caravan brought the Earl's letter, and the road crew has already been diverted to build a separate place for them."
"The church?" Relieved to hear this, Wei Wei knew the castle's adjacent church well. Built to urban cathedral standards, its main hall alone could seat hundreds, with ample auxiliary space. Housing over two hundred children there was far roomier than Allen's previous accommodations.
But Father Matthew's initiative surprised her. The low-profile priest wasn't one to volunteer, likely due to Felix's dislike of the Church. That he'd stepped forward to care for the children was unexpected.
"Father Matthew adores children." Unlike her masters, Madam Nancy was a devout believer who revered the priest. "He's seemed much livelier lately."
Father Matthew was elderly—his qualifications and age could've made him a papal candidate. Yet he'd chosen rural Sardinson, presumably to retire in peace.
This winter, however, hadn't been kind to him. The cold strained his aged body, though he'd remained illness-free. Still, he'd grown visibly frailer—until the serf children arrived. Taking them in had rejuvenated him, his smiles warmer than ever as he cared for them diligently.
"Wait, Father Matthew is teaching the children to read?"
Madam Nancy nodded. "Yes. The Earl's letter instructed us to find someone literate to teach them. We'd planned to rotate servants as teachers, but Father Matthew volunteered."
Though puzzled as to why the Earl wanted serf children educated, the staff obeyed without question.
Wei Wei frowned—not doubting the priest's teaching ability (a former bishop's erudition was unquestionable)—but fearing he'd turn them into devout followers. Given her aversion to the Church, having their people swayed by it would be problematic.
"What's he teaching them?"
"Per the Earl's orders, just literacy for now." Madam Nancy added, "Lately, many serfs have been begging to send their children to learn too."
Commoners lacked education access—their only chance was sending children to church schools, requiring parental donations.
And that was for freemen only. Without the lord's permission, serfs couldn't even dream of schooling.
Seeing these children's opportunities, other serfs clamored to enroll theirs—even basic literacy or arithmetic could become valuable skills, possibly earning the Earl's favor.
So the church had grown bustling, with serfs daily bringing offerings—though Father Matthew refused all, insisting he'd await the Earl's return for guidance.
"I see. I'll discuss this with Phil." (Phil was Felix's nickname, which Wei Wei had long adopted, though she rarely used it publicly. Now married and in the castle, it rolled off her tongue naturally.)
After the serf matter, Wei Wei inquired about her house—the one under construction for over half a year. It should be nearly finished.
"It's almost done, but Architect Pierre is a perfectionist. He's making final adjustments and says it'll take about two more weeks."
Though curious to visit, Wei Wei decided to wait for the completed reveal.
Next, she reviewed the castle's affairs during her absence. As the Williams family's lady, these duties now fell to her—everything would be her responsibility henceforth.
The weight of her role suddenly felt heavier.
This winter had gone smoothly at Sardinson Castle. Even little Lady Caroline had grown healthier under Madam Nancy's care per Wei Wei's advice, turning two robustly.
Speaking of the child, Madam Nancy beamed. "The young lady has filled out, with chubby cheeks now. She rarely cries—her smiles are angelic."
The entire castle had fared well. Felix's profitable year and generosity meant raises for all—soldiers and servants alike—plus new winter clothes. Morale was high, illnesses absent—everyone thrived.
By the time Wei Wei finished organizing castle affairs, Felix had settled Allen's soldiers, checked on the remaining mercenaries, and handled urgent paperwork before returning.
Like Wei Wei, the young Earl hadn't even changed clothes after his busy day—though thankfully, he wasn't in armor, just a warm robe. Spotting Wei Wei in the parlor, he plopped beside her, pulled her close, and kissed her cheek. "What were you discussing?"
"Castle matters. Everything's mostly fine." Seeing his travel-worn state, Wei Wei didn't push him away despite her fatigue.
Madam Nancy discreetly ushered the other servants out, leaving the couple alone.
Once alone, Felix grew even more unrestrained. He clung to Wei Wei, swaying playfully as he whined in a tone unbefitting his stature, "This trip exhausted me, and there's no rest even back home—my study's piled with documents."
Wei Wei rubbed her temples. "So?"
"So help me sort them?"
Felix truly loathed paperwork—tedious and overwhelming. He couldn't manage alone.
Previously, Wei Wei had avoided his official duties. But now, as his wife, she couldn't refuse. Still, considering tomorrow's plans, she said, "I'll handle the sugar matter tomorrow morning, then assist you in the afternoon."
As long as she agreed, he could wait half a day.
Wei Wei remembered the earlier topic. "About the priest—I'm uneasy having him teach the children. Besides, he's too old for such a workload. I plan to send Qin to assist, lightening his burden."
Qin had taught the children earliest; to them, her authority would rival Penny's, their first caretaker.
"We'll also pick a few literate, child-friendly helpers to join her. Two people can't handle so many children alone."
Before the priest swayed the children toward the Church, she had to secure their loyalty. Wei Wei hoped to nurture talented individuals from among them—future assets for Sardinson.
"Once they've basic literacy and math, send someone to scout for potential. Those suited for combat training should be cultivated—talent development must be multifaceted."
Felix hesitated. "But most are girls."
"What of it? Think girls can't train?" Wei Wei side-eyed him. "I'm not enlisting them as soldiers. But if any show promise, training them as bodyguards for Dolores and me would be ideal. Unless you'd prefer male attendants around us?"
She knew exactly how to press Felix's buttons.
Female bodyguards it was!
As expected, the mention of male servants instantly overrode Felix's reservations. His time in the capital had exposed him to too many noblewomen's affairs with footmen—even knights entangled with their lords' wives. Though he trusted Wei Wei, prevention was paramount.
So female bodyguards? Far preferable to assigning her a knight!
Now convinced, Felix no longer saw women's combat training as odd. In fact, he thought more should be trained—Wei Wei's near-kidnapping had terrified him, and such risks might recur. Only ample protection would ease his mind.
"But if you send your maid to the children, who'll attend you?" Felix raised a valid point, suggesting, "You need more ladies' maids. Two is too few—right now, the slightest issue leaves you unattended."
Moreover, as the castle's lady, only two maids seemed unbecoming.
Wei Wei agreed. "I'll look for suitable candidates to add two more."
But first, she'd discuss it with Qin and Penny to avoid misunderstandings. She knew Qin aspired to be a housekeeper—a role she had the potential for. Teaching was temporary; she'd return eventually.