Lord of Rot

"You clumsy oaf, hurry up! This is a very important celebration! Move your stupid feet faster, faster!"

Wine Barrel, wearing an apron, shouted at the young kitchen helper in the distance.

"Yes, Mr. Wine Barrel!" Oak Basin, holding the peeled potatoes and panting slightly, sped up her already-running pace.

"Dammit! Slow down, you’re kicking dust into the pot!"

"Yes, Mr. Wine Barrel!"

"Pour them in the pot and keep stirring." Wine Barrel was busy with his own task—shucking oysters for soup—but didn’t forget to instruct his assistant. "If you slack off, the bottom of the pot will get mushy, just like your brain!"

"Yes, Mr. Wine Barrel!" Oak Basin didn’t dare to slack off for a second.

Throughout Porcupine Castle, everyone was bustling about.

Young maids were cleaning; the castle needed to be spotless for the day.

The farmwives of Porcupine Territory skilled at baking had been gathered. They were responsible for preparing the bread for the celebration. On this day, the Lord would ensure everyone ate a fine meal, and in their hearts, they all praised their benevolent Lord.

Before long, a fragrant aroma filled the air.

Leech sniffed.

Although he was used to eating white bread, he had to admit that freshly baked black bread was just as tempting, especially after holding a motionless pose and expending a great deal of energy.

"Please don’t move!"

In the distance, a painter standing by an easel was gesturing as he worked on the portrait.

Gelan had said that as the Baron of Porcupine Territory, Leech should have his own portrait. So, he had Qiao invite a painter. Leech had wasted an entire afternoon here for this painting.

"Almost done."

Finally, after who knows how long, the painter at last put down his brush.

Leech walked over to take a look. ’About one-third as handsome as I am in real life,’ he thought. ’It captured my essence, but I don’t look that effeminate. Or does this painter’s eye come with a built-in beautifying filter, complete with skin-smoothing, face-slimming, and eye-enlarging effects?’

"Not bad," he said with a nod.

Overall, he was satisfied enough.

Evening fell, and bonfires blazed.

People gathered in the newly planned square, an open space not far from Porcupine Castle.

On a temporary high stage made of wooden planks, Pilite, the Minstrel’s son, stood nervously. He played his Lute, and its light, breezy sound made everyone who heard it turn to look at the boy on the stage.

Pilite gradually relaxed. He recalled the expression on his father’s face when he played the harp. Sometimes, his father would even toss knives into the air, drawing gasps of surprise from the crowd.

After a very long intro, Pilite began to sing softly, "Let us raise our glasses high, to the past and the future! Under our Lord’s lead, we will conquer hunger and cold. We fear not the flame or the great bear, we fear not the Night or pirates..."

His song was about Porcupine Territory, about the Lord.

Everyone listened intently. Though the young Minstrel’s voice was still a little nervous, the melodious sound of the Lute strings smoothed over everything.

Leech sat in his chair, with Gelan and Qiao by his side.

The butler, Simon, poured the wine. A manservant named Pitchfork picked up a small knife, cut the pie, and served slices onto the plates before them.

Leech noticed Gelan seemed to want to say something but was holding back. Whenever they dined together, Gelan would summarize the minor issues he had discovered during the day and present his report. He was an excellent administrator, albeit an overworked one. Leech admired Gelan’s work ethic and was already considering having him train a few talented people to lighten his burden.

After Qiao returned with the craftsmen, Porcupine Territory would only get busier. Even if Gelan worked himself to death, he wouldn’t be able to handle it all.

"No work tonight," he said to Gelan. "Enjoy the moment."

The song ended, and Pilite began to beat a drum. The cheerful rhythm made people want to stomp their feet.

Leech looked at the maids who were craning their necks, eager to join in. "Ladies, your stage is over there. Go have fun."

"My Lord," said the butler, Simon, "they should remain here. You need..."

"This celebration is for everyone in Porcupine Territory," Leech said to the maids, whose eyes were filled with longing. "Go on."

"Yes!" They happily thanked the Baron. Among them, a young maid named Wineglass even shot the butler a smug look. ’If the Lord has spoken, even the butler has to listen.’

The butler remained silent.

The tall maid and a lively maid ran forward a few steps.

Then they stopped and looked at the young kitchen helper, Oak Basin, who was approaching with a dish.

"Is that the last dish?" Leech asked.

The young kitchen helper nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

She answered timidly, a little reserved.

"Go have fun with them," Leech said. "Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Wine Barrel."

"Thank you, my Lord!" the young kitchen helper said, overjoyed. After walking briskly for a short distance, she could no longer hold back and broke into a run toward the other two maids. The three of them joined hands and ran toward the bonfire.

They jumped and danced joyfully to the beat of Pilite’s drum.

They had no elegant dance moves, no exquisite makeup, and certainly no dazzling gowns. They wore their linen maid’s dresses, which might have even been smudged with dust and weren’t particularly dignified, but in that moment, they were utterly happy.

Soon, some young men were drawn in by their joy. Everyone knew they were maids from Porcupine Castle, which was a very respectable job.

Even the tall maid found a dance partner, though he was a full head shorter than her.

The distant sounds of laughter and singing carried far.

Carried to the ears of the slaves.

They had eaten their fill again today. Each person even got a bowl of meat broth, and the glistening fat floating on top was a testament to how delicious it was.

Radish finished his bowl of soup, but he secretly saved the small bits of meat at the bottom for his little sister.

He would remember this day forever, just as he remembered the day he’d eaten radishes until he was full.

"I’m so full," his sister said, snuggling up to him.

Radish patted his own belly and nodded. "So full."

...

"You damn dwarf, how can you hold your liquor so well!"

Black Ears chugged a mouthful of beer. He hadn’t eaten much, and his stomach was already full of alcohol, making his head spin.

"Hahaha, I’m a dwarf, but I’ll drink you under the table!" the dwarf craftsman Fla laughed heartily. "You’ll be even shorter than me then!"

"I’m gonna punch you right in your ugly face!" Just as Black Ears shifted his butt off the chair, his legs gave way and he crumpled to his knees. After a dizzying spin, he passed out on the ground.

The dwarf craftsman Fla took a big swig of alcohol and shouted to the crowd, "I’m the giant! He’s the dwarf!"

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

The crowd roared with laughter.

The laughter quieted down as the Baron arrived.

Even Pilite stopped his music.

They looked at their Lord, suddenly very reserved.

"To the Lord!" The dwarf craftsman Fla was quick-witted. He raised his cup and shouted, "I don’t care if you’ve got thick soup, hot tea, or wine in your cup—to the Lord!"

"To the Lord!"

"To the Lord!"

"To the Lord!"

The chant swept through the crowd like a wave.

Leech nodded to the Minstrel’s son, who understood and resumed playing.

Suddenly, Leech felt a cold touch on the tip of his nose. He looked up.

It was snowing.