Chapter 510

Gervas held Pat in higher regard now—he was a clever man who knew when to cut his losses.

But Gervas did not respond immediately; instead, he turned to Lei Meng. “Lei Meng, what do you think?”

Lei Meng’s gaze toward Gervas was filled with gratitude.

Though he would never set foot in Pat’s fief again.

But it had remained a thorn in his heart.

Now, Lord Gervas didn’t even need to say a word—he simply ordered Pat to publicly declare his innocence within his own fief, and even offered him twenty gold coins as compensation.

None of this—had it not been for Gervas—he would never have dared to dream of it!

“My lord, I leave everything to your discretion!”

“Very well, then I shall accept Pat’s offer on my own authority!”

“Enough, Lord Pat—the minor incident is over. Let’s return to our drinking!”

Lei Meng’s matter was merely a brief interruption; afterward, Gervas called out to Pat.

Upon hearing the call, Pat’s tense heart instantly settled, and joy spread across his face.

He handed his bruised and swollen Miles over to a servant and followed Gervas back to the long table.

After drinking heartily for a long while, as the banquet neared its end, Gervas tossed Pat an olive branch.

“Lord Pat, what are your lands most known for producing?”

“Produce?” Pat blinked, then quickly replied without hesitation: “Lord Gervas, my Pat Fief produces the most wheat!”

“My lands boast roughly four hundred thousand mu of fertile farmland; in good years, the harvest can feed at least one hundred thousand people, yet my fief has only fifty thousand residents.”

“So, half the surplus grain—after taxes—is sold every year!”

Four hundred thousand mu was barely equivalent to the farmland of a backward mountain county in my past life.

But in this world, for a viscount’s fief, it was already quite impressive.

After all, farming tools here were primitive, and land reclamation was extremely difficult.

Thus, a viscount’s fief possessing so much arable land was only possible because Pat’s territory lay in a flat plain, rich with fertile soil and river systems.

The same was true of Lord Gai’s baronial fief.

“How much do you sell your wheat for per kilogram?”

“Lord Gervas, it depends on the harvest. In good years, it’s about three copper coins per kilogram!”

“In bad years, prices may rise to five or six copper coins per kilogram.”

“So cheap?” Gervas was slightly surprised, for in the Southern Region, wheat started at ten copper coins per kilogram.

Even in border regions, twelve or thirteen copper coins per kilogram was common.

In famine years, prices soared even higher.

Pat immediately smiled bitterly. “Lord Gervas, compared to other regions, our wheat is indeed much cheaper—but what can we do? Our lands are so fertile we never lack wheat!”

“So every year, we can only sell to noble merchant caravans from other regions!”

“But wheat is heavy—if the distance is too great, freight costs become enormous. Too close, and no one wants it; too far, and it’s not worth their while!”

“So only a limited number of merchants buy, and prices naturally stay low!”

At this, Andrew beside him nodded in agreement.

Gervas now had his answer. “Lord Pat, how about this: from now on, sell all your grain to me! I’ll buy it at four copper coins per kilogram.”

Pat froze, hesitating. “Four copper coins? Lord Gervas—is that the price for normal years or famine years?”

“Of course, for normal years. In famine years, seven, eight, even ten copper coins per kilogram is possible—though the final price will depend on local grain prices at the time.”

“In any case, my price will always be thirty percent higher than others’!”

Pat instantly grew excited!

Don’t think thirty percent is small.

Though it’s only one copper coin more per kilogram.

But grain is bought in quantities of tens of thousands—or even hundreds of thousands—of kilograms.

That means a single transaction could yield tens of thousands—or even hundreds of thousands—of copper coins in profit.

Converted to gold coins, that’s several—or even dozens—of gold coins.

Far from a trivial sum.

Upon hearing this, Andrew opened his mouth as if to speak.

“Father, don’t worry—I’ve already calculated it. Even at the original price, I could still procure it.”

“But since they’re our neighbors, I’m happy to let them benefit.”

“I’ve become a count. My domain will soon expand, and I need to recruit many subjects.”

“That means I need more grain—not just from the Pat family, but from the other neighboring baronial families here tonight as well.”

“Father, go call the other nobles. I’ll settle grain procurement with them all at once!”

“Lord Gervas, I’ll go fetch them!”

Andrew didn’t even need to move—Pat became overly eager.

Soon, upon Pat’s announcement, the other barons were all stirred.

One by one, they hurried over with beaming smiles.

In past years, harvest season was their most anxious time.

After all, if grain wasn’t sold, it couldn’t be turned into gold—it would rot in storage.

The longer it sat, the worse its quality became, and prices would drop further.

This year, most of their grain still hadn’t been sold.

But if Gervas truly intended to buy—and buy regularly—it would lift a great burden from their hearts.

Even the price increase—they hadn’t dared to dream of it.

“Lord Gervas, is what Lord Pat said true? Are you really planning to buy our grain?” the lesser nobles asked nervously.

“Correct. Not only will I buy, but I’ll buy regularly—and raise the price. In good years, when others pay two copper coins, I’ll pay three!”

“This… that’s wonderful! Thank you, Lord Gervas!”

Gervas smiled, but halted their thanks. “Of course, such a deal comes with one small condition.”

Their expressions shifted slightly—they’d suspected it wouldn’t be so simple.

Even Pat showed a flicker of disappointment. Of course—no free lunch.

Still, he couldn’t help asking: “Lord Gervas, what’s your condition?”

“Simple: in every transaction, I require one-fifth of the payment to be made in goods.”

“Such as animal hides, linen cloth, iron farming tools, medicinal herbs, smoked meats, and so on.”

“I’ll sell you these goods at half the market price of the Kingdom’s heartland—and guarantee their quality. How’s that?”

Pat hadn’t expected this demand. He pressed: “Lord Gervas, you’re certain? Half the heartland price—and equal quality?”

“Absolutely. At half the heartland market price, with guaranteed quality,” Gervas confirmed again.

Upon hearing this, Pat and the barons all exhaled in relief.

Joy returned to their faces.