Chapter 100: Misunderstanding

“Sorry, Tagraedi, we’re short on manpower ourselves.” 

“Woodie, can I call you Woodie? Why don’t you try asking others? You see my situation here, I really can’t help.”

“It’s not about money, Your Excellency. We don’t do that kind of business here.”

Wu Qingsong attempted to purchase some slaves from the surrounding mercenary groups to address the labor shortage in his territory. He offered a price of 30%, even 50% above the market rate, but the territories he visited all refused him with various excuses.

Such a situation frustrated him, but he couldn’t exactly resort to robbery.

What consoled him was that almost all of these mercenary groups’ territories were still in ruins, with just a few towers built and tents pitched below. It seemed their efforts were focused more on clearing out the mines within their territories to quickly resume production, rather than seizing the springtime to sow seeds.

“If they don’t want to sell, so be it. They have the opportunity to make money but choose not to. They deserve to stay poor.”

“They have no choice but to do so because farming alone can’t support so many people. If they don’t quickly resume iron mining, maintaining such a large number of soldiers will soon lead to bankruptcy,” Harold explained. “Moreover, their territories don’t have enough irrigation channels, so the grain yield is naturally low.”

In considering how to develop his territory, Wu Qingsong had also taken the time to understand this world’s agricultural production.

Frankly, with the enhancement of mages, he felt there wasn’t much room for improvement in this world’s agricultural production. At least, there wasn’t much more he could contribute with his abilities.

Water management facilities were well-recognized for their importance. In places like Umber, mages were even employed to construct main canals, followed by the continuous construction of windmills to draw water from underground for irrigation. This turned such an area into a self-sufficient grain-producing region.

The concept of using fertilizers was also known. People understood that fermented manure mixed into the soil could enhance crop growth. They were also aware of the benefits of plant ash obtained from burning vegetation. However, it seemed they did not practice composting or earthworm farming. As for chemical fertilizers, Wu Qingsong could only scoff.

In the iron-rich region of the Esola Hills, iron agricultural tools were widely used, but they seemed to lack the concept of deep plowing, and the plows used were different from those Wu Qingsong remembered. There was room for improvement here, though the extent of the impact was uncertain.

Seeds were selected from the previous year’s harvest, choosing the largest and fullest grains for replanting. There was no concept of hybridization, but Wu Qingsong himself wasn’t very clear on how to execute hybridization either. Moreover, these seeds appeared quite satisfactory to him. According to Harold, they were magically cultivated by elven mages.

However, these seeds were expensive, and their yield started to decline after a few years of replanting. To maintain high yields, one must continuously purchase new seeds. This resulted in a significant yield difference between poor villages that couldn’t afford quality seeds and territories that invested heavily in new seeds every few years. 

The difference could be as much as threefold. 

Impressive, Wu Qingsong thought. Though not hybrid seeds, they effectively mimic the effects of hybrids, compelling people to keep buying them.

The mage who developed these seeds was truly talented. 

“We have our own mage, so this aspect is certainly covered,” Wu Qingsong said to Harold.

Although using a hidden mage like this seemed a bit wasteful, Feya’s abilities were perfectly suited for this task.

Thinking differently, perhaps they could covertly cultivate and smuggle out some seeds for sale. After all, with such talent, cultivating and selling seeds on the same land would surely be more profitable than simply growing and selling crops. Considering the price difference Harold mentioned, the profit margin might not be so different from drug manufacturing and trafficking. 

Wu Qingsong’s heart warmed at the thought, and his smiles became more frequent whenever he was around Feya.

“Meow~ Wu, are you going to like Feya now?” Liuli asked one day.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just say things like that,” Wu Qingsong was startled. 

Where did such a rumor come from? Luckily, Ram wasn’t there, otherwise, it would have been hard to explain.

“Where did you hear such a rumor?” he asked sternly. 

‘Who dared to spread such gossip? They’d pay dearly! Could it be Beck, that guy?’

“Meow! Then why do you always smile at her?”

Wu Qingsong was taken aback, then pinched his own face. Was that really happening?

“If you do that, Ling will be very sad,” Liuli spoke earnestly. “Meow~ Wu, can you not like anyone else, please?”

“If you don’t understand, don’t talk nonsense. Especially don’t say it to others,” Wu Qingsong said in a flustered tone. “I won’t just randomly start liking someone else, okay?”

“Meow~ Liuli likes Wu the most,” Liuli finally cheered up again. “When Liuli grows up, can she marry Wu?”

“You lazy, good-for-nothing glutton, go away,” Wu Qingsong ruffled her head, dragging her away with a mock fierce grip, oblivious to the fact that Feya, who happened to pass by and overheard their conversation, was hiding around the corner with a flushed face.

She had never considered this possibility, but hearing Liuli’s words made her suddenly aware of it. Could she live a carefree life like Liuli if he liked her? Was his smile towards her a sign of affection? What should she do then?

***

The number of ant creatures emerging from the Elmons Mine was dwindling, but for safety’s sake, Wu Qingsong still had a giant wooden gate constructed to seal off the passage completely.

Without these profitable ventures, he might have had to resort to the desperate measures of other mercenary leaders, sending his men into the mines at all costs to balance the books quickly.

Reportedly, the Greg Mine to the east had already claimed nearly thirty mercenary lives, prompting them to recruit new members and assign them to such perilous tasks. The Lucell Mercenary Group to the west had begun doing the same.

“Why would they be willing to do this? They’re clearly being used as cannon fodder,” Wu Qingsong couldn’t comprehend this.

“If you’re so hungry you might die tomorrow, who would worry about whether they’ll survive until next week?” Harold remarked.

“Sir, another mercenary group has requested to rest at Orgrimmar,” a guard reported at that moment. “They hope to buy some food.”

“Give them a bit of food and tell them to go elsewhere,” Wu Qingsong instructed.

As the northern region gradually became safer, the footprint of mercenary groups extended further north, making such troops increasingly common.

The Elmons Mine, being a central hub for the surrounding territories, was rumored to have brought significant profit to the Dark Hand merely by supplying inns and taverns. However, Wu Qingsong wasn’t unwilling to accommodate these groups. The problem was the multitude of secrets at his base, which made it risky to allow them in.

“Perhaps we should choose a more secluded location to build a camp specifically for these mercenary groups to rest?” Wu Qingsong pondered.

Making money was secondary. If he couldn’t secure support from Esola’s merchants and other large mercenary groups, perhaps gaining the favor of smaller groups was an alternative. If there were trustworthy smaller groups, they could gradually become external affiliates of the Thirteenth Mercenary Group. 

Tasks like transportation, which required considerable manpower, could be outsourced to them. Wu Qingsong would only need to send one or two people to ensure the goods were delivered to the right place and person.

This way, he wouldn’t need to maintain a large force but could assemble a sizable group when necessary. Why not?