Chapter 514

Luo Lan City, the manor of the Devalu family.

To celebrate the completion of the renovation of the royal manor with a three-hundred-year history located in the suburbs, a grand ball worthy of being recorded in the palace history is underway.

The huge crystal chandelier is like an inverted glacier, refracting dazzling brilliance, illuminating the entire hall like daylight. Countless noble men and women in gorgeous clothes are dancing in the dance floor, and the rotating skirts are like blooming tulips.

The palace orchestra is playing an ancient and melodious movement, which is a hymn praising the glory of the Devalu family; the melodious melody covers the cold wind occasionally sweeping past the window, and also covers the heavy panting of this ancient kingdom.

King Xioden Devalu sat on a high platform covered with dark red velvet, his aged fingers tapping lightly on the armrest with the beat of the music.

Although the busy foreign affairs and internal affairs aggravated his aging, at this moment, looking at the scene of singing and dancing in front of him, a touch of intoxication and satisfaction appeared on that wrinkled face, and it also gave him a lot of comfort in his heart.

This is the kingdom under his rule, like a knight in his prime, and visibly stronger...

Xioden has no doubt that all this is due to his wisdom, being able to make those worms that corrode the kingdom obedient.

However—

The "worms" don't think so.

In the shadows on the edge of the dance floor, the Kingdom's Financial Director, Sir Hannoke, struggled through the bustling crowd, with no time to appreciate the prosperity on the dance floor.

His face was as pale as a wall that had just been painted white, and the cold sweat oozing from his forehead kept coming out even after wiping it again and again with a handkerchief.

He looked hurried, even almost knocking over the champagne in the hands of a Baroness, but he didn't even have time to apologize, and went straight to the Economic Minister who was tasting wine in the corner.

Baron Weiketon Westeli was shaking the wine glass in his hand, appreciating the texture of the amber wine hanging on the cup wall, thinking about the next step of his official career.

Seeing Sir Hannoke's look as if the sky had fallen, his brows frowned slightly.

"... Pay attention to your demeanor, Sir Hannoke, this is the royal manor. Our Majesty is in high spirits, no matter how urgent your matter is, you must not forget elegance."

Although he had already guessed the intention of this Sir, he still scolded him, so as not to let the former lose his sense of proportion and shout loudly about everything.

"I am very sorry, Baron, but the news I brought is probably more serious than ruining His Majesty's interest..."

Looking at the minister with frowned brows, Hannoke still remembered some etiquette, leaned into Weiketon's ear, and said tremblingly in a voice that only two people could hear.

"... After the settlement this month, there are only 80,000 gold coins left on the national treasury's account."

Baron Weiketon's hand holding the wine glass trembled subconsciously, and a few drops of expensive wine didn't hold back, shaking onto his straight-ironed cuffs.

"You said how much?"

He stared at Hannoke's eyes, trying to find a trace of joking from the other party's face, but only found a wry smile.

"80,000, sir... I can be sure that the accountants under me didn't calculate the account wrong."

Looking at Sir Hannoke who was not joking, Weiketon took a deep breath, trying to draw some coolness from the restless air.

80,000 gold coins!

This is undoubtedly a huge sum for an ordinary rich businessman, enough for them to clear all obstacles to the palace and see the owner of this kingdom directly.

And enough to see ten times!

However, for a huge kingdom, this money is not even enough to maintain the expenses of the Laine capital for a quarter!

"What about silver coins?" Weiketon asked with his last glimmer of hope, "Including the stock of silver coins and silver bars that haven't been cast, how much can we gather?"

Hannoke shook his head in despair, shattering the minister's last fantasy.

"It also includes... sir, the number I just reported has converted all liquid funds. And in the valuation of these 80,000 gold coins, silver coins account for a full 70%."

Weiketon's pupils contracted slightly.

The Laine Kingdom only has the right to mint silver coins, gold coins can only be obtained from trade with the Empire, which is equivalent to foreign exchange income, and also a store of value.

Silver coins account for 70% of the national treasury, which is not a good sign.

While the Empire "sucks blood" from vassal states through gold coins, vassal states are actually "sucking blood" from the Empire through a "broad market with zero tariffs"; the two are actually a mutually sucking symbiotic relationship.

Now that gold coin reserves are on the verge of exhaustion, and silver coins have flowed in large quantities to neighboring countries, it is undoubtedly adding insult to injury to the kingdom's economy.

The "short-term sweetness" of silver coins depreciating against gold coins and silver coins appreciating against copper coins is turning into a bitter fruit borne by both civilians and nobles.

"What about the Mint?" Weiketon's voice became severe, "Can they think of a way?"

"... Baron, our Mint has never been lazy, they have been trying very hard to think of ways, but it's like wanting to squeeze olive oil from a stone and brew water into wine." Hannoke said bitterly, "Unless we can immediately discover an amazing silver mine in the backyard, otherwise no matter how hard the Mint tries, it can't solve the problem in front of us."

After a pause, he swallowed his saliva.

"Unless, we lower the fineness of silver coins again, but this requires the King's approval. And... I'm worried that no one will buy it if it goes down further; silver coins themselves are depreciating against gold coins, and nobles are holding gold tightly in their hands; this is definitely not a good time to lower the fineness of silver coins."

Weiketon was silent.

◆￠o

He certainly knew what Hannoke said, and he also knew what Hannoke didn't know, for example, where this money went.

It's not a fire extinguisher; a fire extinguisher doesn't cost much money, and it's not the King's money, but the people's fat and ointment, and can even be counted as income.

What really tripped the kingdom's horse hoof was the "Winter Moon Coup" in the Campbell Principality.

Although the King never admitted that the coup had anything to do with him, anyone with a discerning eye knew where Count Delike's money came from.

That wasn't donated by serfs, at least not the serfs of Campbell.

In order to support the nobles of the Campbell Principality, their Majesty transported a massive amount of material support to the rebels, but Aidehua not only didn't die, but instead quelled the rebellion with thunderous means, resulting in this huge investment being lost, and not even hearing a sound.

Another hole is the tax deficit of the Dusk Saint Saint Xingsheng, and the Lionheart Knights struggling in that quagmire.

The food and horse feed for thousands of heavy cavalry is an astronomical figure, plus greedy local nobles and wandering Salvation Army obstructing the supply line, the Knights were forced to purchase materials at several times the price locally, and many of these materials were even purchased from Campbell merchants.

Those greedy local nobles and treacherous merchants and stubborn people are like ox flies, lying on the ankles that the kingdom can't reach and sucking blood frantically.

"... The kingdom spends money every day, and His Majesty's purse is like a leaking wine barrel." Looking at the silent superior, Hannoke continued with a worried face, "The renovation of the palace, the military pay of the Knights, and this endless banquet... We must open source and reduce expenditure, otherwise this money probably won't last long."

Also, paying interest on loans.

Any royal family will borrow money from nobles and priests, and the interest on repaying loans also accounts for a considerable proportion of the Laine Kingdom's fiscal expenditure.

He always felt that they should pay back some money when the finances were abundant, instead of using it to repair the royal manor and further increase the palace's expenditure.

"Give me a number." Weiketon was silent for a long time, and said, "If we keep spending at this rate, how long can it last?"

Hannoke hesitated.

"Don't know... maybe half a year? If the Lionheart Knights have any big moves, or if His Majesty has a whim to build another garden, this time will have to be halved."

Half a year.

Weiketon felt a burst of dizziness, almost unable to hold the wine glass in his hand, and could only place it on the long table beside him.

He simply couldn't imagine what they should do if they couldn't come up with money after half a year.

He subconsciously looked at the high platform in the center of the dance floor.

King Xioden was smiling and raising his glass to the nobles on the dance floor, his face filled with a fatherly smile, as if he were the guardian of this prosperous land.

Do you want him to walk over now and tell this old man immersed in a beautiful dream that your kingdom has gone bankrupt?

Weiketon's eyes flickered with struggle.

Although the Westeli family is not prominent, it has a long history, and he has no doubt that he is a noble person, just like his noble ancestors.

However, he also knows clearly that if he cannot protect himself, all his political ambitions are empty talk.

If he pours cold water on this kind of excitement, not only will it not solve the financial crisis, but I am afraid that his position as Economic Minister will also come to an end.

"... I see."

"Know? Baron, to be honest, knowing is not enough—"

"Shut your mouth, Hannoke. Tonight is His Majesty's good day, don't let these copper smells ruin the royal interest."

Interrupting Sir Hannoke's argument without question, the King's minister wiped the wine stains on his cuffs and reached out to pat the Sir's shoulder.

"After the ball, I will report to His Majesty personally. As for now..."

Weiketon looked at the endless dance floor, a deep exhaustion flashing in his eyes.

"Let this music play for a while longer."

As the last carriage leaving the palace disappeared at the end of the kerosene lamp, the noisy ball finally dispersed, and the late-night manor finally fell back into the peace of the night.

The King's study, the fire in the fireplace is like wild grass swaying on the side of the road, tenaciously licking the charred wood.

Xioden Devalu sat behind the large walnut desk, his wrinkled eyelids drooping, as if he might fall asleep at any time.

If it weren't for that annoying Baron Weiketon disturbing him, saying there was an important matter to report, he probably would have fallen asleep under the service of the maid.

However, now, he had to wear that expensive silk shirt, sit on the high-backed chair in front of the fireplace, and listen to this boring guy nagging.

Baron Weiketon Westeli stood in front of the desk, his hands trembling as he presented the thin financial report.

The things written on the paper were even more amazing than what Hannoke dictated; he only got this report after the banquet ended.

The King took the report casually, at first just scanning it, as if looking at an unimportant menu.

However, as his gaze moved down, his murky eyes gradually narrowed, like an old eagle waking up from a dream.

"Slap!"

The report was thrown hard on Weiketon's face, and the pages scattered all over the floor.

"80,000 gold coins? Is this the answer you give me?"

Xioden suddenly stood up from the chair, his sleepiness gone, his voice distorted and hoarse with anger, scaring Baron Weiketon so much that he dared not speak.

"The Laine Kingdom possesses vast golden plains, possesses tens of millions of hardworking people, they grew up riding on sturdy cows, eating full berries and potatoes, you tell me... such a powerful kingdom, only has 80,000 gold coins! Do you think I can't count!"

The Laine Kingdom has a population of about 20 million and a land area of 1.2 million square kilometers.

Even excluding the Dusk Saint Saint Xingsheng, which is caught in the flames of war, there are nearly 700,000 square kilometers, and more than 10 million "statistical population" living in the core area.

With so many people, even if everyone donates 100 copper coins, that's more than 100,000 gold coins!

How could it be possible that not even a mere 80,000 gold coins could be produced!

It has to be said that Xioden's mathematical ability is passable, but this account is obviously not calculated this way. Even ignoring the complex relationship between gross production value and tax revenue, as well as the loss of value in the circulation link, those 80,000 gold coins are also the cumulative balance of income minus expenditure, and this balance is gradually decreasing.

Compared to the 80,000 gold coins themselves, what he should pay more attention to is actually the real dead lines like "debt default time at all levels."

However, Baron Weiketon dared not remind him at this time, and could only remain silent, lowering his head and praying that His Majesty's anger would pass quickly.

The King paced back and forth in the study, like an old lion provoked, cursing and muttering in his mouth.

"Saint Xisi above, this group of worms who eat inside and out, thieves who embezzle the kingdom's assets, everyone is thinking about my money! And you, Weiketon, I just praised you, but you handed me such an answer sheet! Even if a pig sat in your position, it wouldn't manage my national treasury like this!"

Xioden felt unbelievable, but more was the anger of being betrayed.

In this kingdom, everyone is asking him for things, calculating their own interests.

Saint Xisi above, why is his palace full of a group of exquisite egoists, is there no selfless good person?

Where did all the good people go?

Facing the King's roar, Baron Weiketon knelt on one knee with a thud, not daring to argue, let alone point out the real problem.

If it weren't for repairing this royal manor, if it weren't for that money-losing Winter Moon Coup, if there weren't those unexpected expenses... even if their finances were tight, they wouldn't be this tight.

The Laine Kingdom is like a giant tightening its belt, and their belt is like a taut string that needs to carefully control the rhythm of breathing to keep it from breaking.

However, I don't know who gave His Majesty this illusion; in this era when extraordinary people cannot do whatever they want, they are the one-in-a-million exception.

However, it makes no sense to say these things now.

As an old fox who has been rolling in the palace for many years, Weiketon knows that the truth has never been important. If he doesn't throw the pot away immediately, this pot will definitely be pressed on his head by His Majesty.

His mind turned.

There are no political enemies left to deal with, so he can only find a more ethereal opponent; this is almost his instinct.

"Your Majesty, calm down... please calm down." Weiketon looked up, his face full of loyalty and panic, "Undoubtedly someone stole your money, but I think it's not any specific person, but our... 'income structure' has a huge loophole."

He carefully weighed the meticulously woven terminology, and after a word the King could understand, pieced together something that sounded unclear but felt powerful.

Xioden's eyes narrowed, and his anger subsided slightly.

Income?

Sounds interesting, he intends to listen to the minister's explanation.

Seeing the King stop his pacing, Baron Weiketon swallowed his saliva and began to pave the way for his meticulously prepared strategy.

"In our kingdom, those who possess the most land and wealth are the priests. They are first-class citizens, occupying the most fertile church property, sitting on the offerings of believers, but only responsible to the gods in heaven, not paying a copper of tax to you, and even collecting taxes from your civilians! This is obviously unreasonable!"

"Secondly, those nobles. They are second-class citizens, possessing fiefs and privileges, but they push back and forth when paying taxes, and every time there is a war, they need you to reward a large amount of gold coins to maintain their loyalty, and even ask you for interest on loans! They are like dragons guarding the treasury, only entering and not exiting, which is why our silver coins are depreciating against gold coins!"

"Finally, it is our only source of tax—those cunning civilians and merchants, they are not good things either, these guys would rather hide money in the wall cracks than take it out to feed the soldiers who protect them."

Weiketon made a heartbroken expression, and that expression wasn't entirely faked. Undoubtedly, he truly loves this kingdom, and his family shares honor and disgrace with the Devalu family.

Otherwise, he definitely wouldn't be offering advice to his Majesty from the bottom of his heart.

"... But Your Majesty, due to natural disasters and years of war, plus the layers of exploitation by lords at all levels, this sheep has been plucked bald. Even if we throw them into a juicer, we can't squeeze out a few drops of oil, we must think of a way from the nobles and priests, and let them shoulder the obligations they have forgotten."

Xioden sat back in the chair, his anger dissipated a bit, replaced by his eyes becoming unpredictable.

Weiketon is right.

It's like he raised a group of fat pigs, but because of some ancient rules, he could only watch the pigs grow fat, but couldn't eat a bite of meat.

"Baron Weiketon, my minister, it seems I blamed you wrongly. As you said, there are too many bad people around us... Do you have any good ideas?"

"Of course!"

Baron Weiketon looked up, a dangerous and cunning light flashing in his eyes, and lowered his voice to continue.

"Ancient contracts restrict the taxes we collect from the nobles. If we force them, we will be labeled as tyrants. But if it is for the survival of the kingdom, I think even if they object, they definitely won't want to watch their biggest 'debtor' go bankrupt."

Xioden's face showed an interested light, and the body that had just sat down in the chair leaned forward a bit more.

"You mean?"

Weiketon showed his cards and offered the King his meticulously prepared "middle strategy."

"I suggest that you order the unprecedented gathering of representatives of the three classes of citizens to come to your castle for a meeting! We want to let the civilians know how much they have paid for our kingdom, and then use their anger to coerce those nobles and priests, letting the first and second-class citizens know how much they owe us! Then we want to re-discuss our tax system and squeeze the gold coins out of the hands of the nobles and priests!"

Xioden was stunned.

He deduced this plan in his mind, and the more he thought about it, the more exquisite he felt it was, simply having the same effect as his operation in the Dusk Saint Saint Xingsheng.

Borrowing strength to strike is precisely what he is best at!

Letting those high-and-mighty priests and nobles pay for their honor in front of the kingdom's subjects, is there anything more wonderful than this?

If they refuse, that is disloyalty to the crown. Their agreement is naturally the best, and the treasury crisis will be solved!

This is simply a genius idea!

A satisfied smile appeared on the King's face, and light rekindled in his murky eyes, simply like entering his comfort zone.

"Very good, Baron Weiketon. I knew it, there are still good people among my subjects, all they lack is an opportunity to prove their loyalty."

Baron Weiketon, kneeling on one knee, nodded respectfully, his right hand pressed to his chest.

"It is my honor to serve you..."

The King nodded with satisfaction, tapped his index finger on the table, and said after a little thought.

"I want you to preside over this... um, 'Three-Level Parliament,' what do you think of this name?"

Baron Weiketon was not surprised at all that the King would hand this difficult task to himself; after all, this Majesty hasn't been doing this for the first day.

However, this time is different; it's not the slums that are on fire, but the kingdom's treasury. He believes that for the sake of gold coins, His Majesty will definitely not let him fight alone.

"The minister thinks... this name is simply wonderful."

Different from the tranquility of the suburbs of Luo Lan City, the night in the new industrial zone of Lei Ming City is always shrouded in the smell of pungent boiler water and cheap alcohol.

In a cheap tavern called "Hammer and Wine Cup," the noisy sound almost overturned the low shed roof.

"Shoe-Thrower" Old Yabo huddled in the corner at a table with a lame leg, with only a cup of free white water in front of him.

If it were a few months ago, this kind of poor ghost who only occupied a seat and didn't consume would have been thrown out like garbage by the waiter.

At the very least, they would have come to urge him three or four times.

However, today, the tavern's boss, who had always been snobbish, rarely showed the demeanor of a gentleman, not only didn't drive him away, but even personally ordered the waiter to fill his water—

"Let this gentleman stay, everyone has difficulties. I believe that when he walks out of the low point of his life, he will definitely remember to come to me for a drink."

That was the tavern boss's original words.

And the reason he said these words, of course, wasn't because he was a good person.

Old Yabo knew very well in his heart that these citizens of Lei Ming City wouldn't really look down on them, these serfs from the countryside; that guy was hypocritical in his heart.

However, the world is going downhill; that guy was carried into the Grand Duke's parliament hall by a group of drunks, becoming an old man sitting at the parliament table drinking black tea and smoking cigars. Then overnight, these mud-legged people from yesterday all became decent people and began to cherish their cloaks.

Although Yabo felt it was blasphemous, why should a beer seller be a member of parliament, does he have a little bit of Saint Light's blood in his veins?

Baron Ges is better than him!

At least that guy's servant could whip the old farmers of Yinsong Town like spinning tops with one whip, and what does a tavern boss know besides selling beer?

However, no matter what, Old Yabo still didn't refuse this hypocritical kindness. He didn't have no money to buy wine, he just had four children to raise, and the whole family relied on his salary, and every penny had to be broken in half to spend.

Listening to the guys bragging in the beer hall is one of his few pleasures; he was like this when he was in Yinsong Town before.

The boss there was truly kind, although he wouldn't pour him a cup of water, he definitely didn't look down on him from the bottom of his heart.

Because they all lived in the same town, they were neighbors who saw each other every day.

Looking at the wooden wine cup filled with water, listening to the shouting he couldn't understand, Old Yabo sighed in his heart, mourning the beautiful time that would never return.

If the steam engine hadn't eaten the fields outside Yinsong Town, if Baron Ges hadn't patted his head and turned the farmland into a pasture, he should have been able to have another child in the winter that just passed, adding a little hope to his small family.

No other reason.

A hand has five fingers, he feels that he should also have five children, so this terrible life can be considered complete.

What if the fifth child is a genius?

That would be winning the jackpot!

Everyone was drunk, only the sober Old Yabo drank his fill of water.

Even the most merciful god couldn't bless every devout believer; clearly, he was the unlucky one missed by Saint Xisi.

A sense of urgency surged in his heart, and just as he was pondering whether to walk away, he suddenly heard a scream from the corner of the tavern.

"Hey, look at this! It's simply crazy!"

"What's wrong? Did Laine's Majesty do something stupid again?"

"No, it has nothing to do with our neighbor! It's that Lei Ming City University, it's said there's new progress!" A guy with coal ash on his head poked his rough finger on a crumpled piece of paper, shouting excitedly with spit flying, "This says, Lei Ming City University doesn't look at background, doesn't look at bloodline, as long as you pass that thing called... entrance exam? You can go in and study!"

That was the enrollment brochure for Lei Ming City University, I don't know which newspaper it was torn from.

Although Old Yabo is illiterate, he had heard of this matter; when he was working during the day, the workers in the factory had already chatted about it.

"Studying is useless!" A skinny porter next to him complained sourly, "People like us, if we don't work for a day, we have to go hungry, do you want us to go to class while begging? For several years without wages, the whole family has to drink the northwest wind!"

A sigh of agreement sounded in the tavern.

For them, studying without working is indeed a luxury that is hard to imagine; this university sounds more like a place for young masters to pass the time.

"That shows your ignorance, old partner."

The foreman sitting at the next table drinking wine smiled proudly, as if this school was opened by his family, "Grand Duke Aidehua and that unfathomable Prince Kelin had already considered it. I saw it clearly in the newspaper, Lei Ming City University will establish a 'scholarship' system!"

The porter was stunned and asked subconsciously.

"What kind of thing is that?"

The foreman replied.

"A thing that can let your children study without working! As long as your child is really that material, not only is tuition free, but living expenses are also issued every month!"

Hearing this, the crowd in the tavern exploded. People exchanged disbelieving looks, just like seeing an undead.

Can you get money for studying?

Is there such a good thing?

"Lying to ghosts!" The porter couldn't help but say, "I don't doubt His Majesty's wisdom, but what good does this do for him?"

"That's not something you should worry about, I believe our Majesty made this decision, he must have his plans! And, this money is not all paid by the Grand Duke himself, he called for donations from the gentlemen in the city in the newspaper, using their surnames to establish scholarships—"

"Cut! Ghosts would throw money at this!"

"Of course you wouldn't, because you are a poor ghost, poverty limits your imagination, how much can it cost to raise a few students? This is a free publicity opportunity, you can openly buy those parents with children, if I were the Andis family, I wouldn't be stingy with this little money!"

The debate turned into a quarrel.

Old Yabo, who was fascinated by listening, felt his heart skip a beat; just now he was shocked by the Grand Duke's generosity, and only after hearing this did he come back to his senses, he had unknowingly been deceived by bad people again.

He really thought for a second, if there were such a generous gentleman, if he had the chance to vote one day, he would definitely vote for that guy.

Saint Xisi above, why are these profit-seeking demons so bad!

In this degenerate era, is there no selfless good person?

The glorious Majesty Xioden didn't know that on this unknown night, he actually had a wonderful resonance with an old Campbell farmer.

Although it was for completely unrelated reasons, they actually had the same intention.

At this time, someone scratched his head and asked.

"Then... what does this school teach?"

Soon someone answered with a smile.

"It teaches a lot!"

"I heard that besides those high-reaching magic, it also teaches things like 'Magic Guidance,' 'Engineering,' 'Arithmetic,' 'Alchemy,' and poetry, art, etc... I just remember these."

Hearing this, Old Yabo's heart skipped a beat again.

He knew nothing about magic, and didn't expect a noble soul to be reincarnated into his home, doing the "Shoe-Thrower's" fifth child.

However, the word "arithmetic" shone like a light into his barren soul.

Not because he understood this thing, but because he heard that the guy named Erxi in the Holis Textile Factory became the factory manager from an accountant who managed the account book because he was fast at calculating things!

Old Yabo is a simple person, but he also has his own shrewdness.

Although he couldn't understand the twists and turns and human relationships in the factory management, he could still understand some simple and easy-to-understand truths—

Arithmetic equals accounting, and accounting equals factory manager!

If his child could also master this skill, wouldn't he not have to bow and scrape to the foreman for a few pitiful silver pounds like him?

Old Yabo suddenly realized.

If he could have a factory manager son, wouldn't that be one worth ten?!

Investing in education... seems more reliable than having a few more.

The discussion in the tavern became more and more heated, but the topic soon returned from Lei Ming City University to those more exciting topics.

Not everyone has a family, at least there are more bachelors among the guys who can waste the night in the tavern.

However, although they soon changed the topic, some people's hearts could not be calm for a long time, such as Old Yabo sitting in the corner of the bar.

He drank the cool water in the cup, but a restless fire ignited in his chest.

Saint Xisi above, even these guys with patched clothes are discussing the future of Lei Ming City, perhaps the "Shoe-Thrower" of Yinsong Town should also make some changes.

For example—

Learn from those trendy Lei Ming City citizens and think of a more decent "surname" for yourself?

After all, his child is a future factory manager, and he has to fill out that scholarship application form later, so he can't be looked down upon in the university.

Old Yabo felt that Saint Xisi hadn't really abandoned him, this unlucky guy, and also gave him inspiration when he was lost...

(End of chapter)