Roderick rode through the bustling construction site, the air thick with dust and the stench of sweat.
Behind him followed only thirty-odd guards, but the heavy chests on several pack horses made every step they took seem exceptionally solid. When he saw Solomon, the young lord was standing in front of a newly built wooden house, discussing a scrawled blueprint with Barna and Evelyn.
Roderick dismounted, his expression shifting constantly, a mix of excitement, travel fatigue, and a trace of poorly concealed ambition. He was thinking about how to broach the subject of House Tyrell with Solomon. Originally, this young lord could have become richer than some great lords with this treasure, and so could he.
Roderick clenched his fists. It's truly unwilling.
"Lord Solomon." Roderick sighed, bowing, his voice a bit hoarse.
Solomon looked at the dust-covered Roderick and his large chests, revealing a smile.
The council chamber inside the Lion's Den was unusually crude—a long wooden table and a few rough chairs. Roderick's guards carried a heavy wooden chest and placed it on the table. The moment the lid opened, although there was no golden glow, it almost stung people's eyes. People breathed heavily.
"This is the purchase money paid by House Tyrell! One thousand Gold Dragons!" Roderick's voice carried a tremor. He stared fixedly at Solomon's face, trying to catch a glimpse of greed or ecstasy, but he was disappointed. Solomon was indeed happy, but he didn't lose his composure. His gaze lingered on the Gold Dragons for only a moment before turning to Barna.
Solomon said in a plain tone, as if ordering dinner, "Count out three hundred, and give them to Lord Roderick. This is what he deserves."
Roderick gave a start. Three hundred Gold Dragons. He hadn't even brought up the split yet, and the other party honored the verbal promise so crisply. In Westeros, the promises and credibility of nobles and merchants were often cheaper than a whore's love; defaulting and deducting were commonplace. This straightforward act by the young lord made him feel a sense of unreality and immense shock.
Solomon interrupted his hesitation, making a gesture of invitation: "Now, tell me House Tyrell's conditions."
Solomon knew deeply that Great Lords were not easy to deal with. House Tyrell's money wasn't that easy to take, especially that old woman's.
In this delicate atmosphere, Roderick took a deep breath and repeated Lady Olenna's agreement verbatim:
"Buy out the time until House Tyrell produces an imitation. You cannot make this item anymore, nor are you allowed to sell it to anyone else."
Roderick chose his words carefully, every word like walking on a knife's edge. He watched Solomon's reaction. The expected rage, unwillingness, or resentment at being humiliated did not appear. The young lord just listened quietly.
When he finished, the council chamber fell into dead silence. People looked at Solomon.
Only a moment later, Solomon looked up: "Agreed!"
Roderick doubted his ears. "What did you say, my Lord?"
"I said agreed. I accept." Solomon confirmed again, his tone as calm as commenting on the nice weather.
Roderick was completely stunned. He almost blurted out: "My Lord! You... you are giving up just like that? This is a gold mountain! A gold mountain that can make your family wealthy for countless generations!"
Solomon looked at Roderick strangely, not understanding why he was more excited than himself.
"Have you heard an old saying from the Riverlands? 'A greedy snake tries to swallow an elephant.'" Solomon said steadily. His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly entered Roderick's ears.
Roderick shook his head blankly, while Evelyn's eyes widened. Where did elephants come from in the Riverlands?
Solomon felt Roderick seemed a bit off. He paused, his gaze sweeping over the chest of dazzling Gold Dragons on the table, offering kind advice:
"I just happened to pick up a huge nugget of gold by the river, but I don't have enough strength to guard it. If I hold onto it tight and won't let go, soon, the vultures, hyenas, and those stronger lions who smell it will come to tear me apart."
"Excessive greed is like a snake trying to swallow an elephant."
These words left Roderick speechless. He felt he wasn't facing a young lord from a small place. But he was still unwilling, speaking urgently: "Then, my Lord! Now House Tyrell is willing to buy all the stock in your hands at a high price! As long as you can provide more! The profit is still astronomical!"
Solomon shook his head: "I only have ten pairs in hand right now."
Roderick almost shouted, "Then make them quickly!"
"Why not produce more! Time is money!"
"One pair is one thousand Gold Dragons!!"
Solomon didn't answer him with his gaze. Instead, he turned to Evelyn, who had been silent beside him. The sharpness in his eyes faded, becoming soft. He intended to say a cheesy line to shock the woman before him. Solomon said softly:
"Because she is more precious than them."
This sentence was like a stone thrown into a lake. To Roderick, it sounded like an explanation that this ugly woman was the key to making the glasses, and the process consumed her greatly, so mass production was impossible.
But to Evelyn, it sounded like he was telling her that for her health, to prevent her from exhausting her mind, he would rather give up a gold mountain within easy reach. Evelyn suddenly lowered her head, her heart pounding traitorously. She felt her cheeks burning. That ugly disguised birthmark seemed unable to cover the blush quietly spreading from the roots of her ears. This little guy... how is he so smooth with words?
Are you kidding? With such talent, he could distinguish between a single full meal and a lifetime of full meals. Besides, "An innocent man gets into trouble because of his wealth." Pigs fear getting fat the most. Making the deal secretly was only beneficial and harmless to him.
Except for Barna, who had long realized it, the attendants on both sides opened their mouths wide and stared with wide eyes, faces full of shock. This young noble lord actually liked this type? Has he never seen a woman? Roderick was even more anxious; ten pairs of glasses were too few.
Roderick left anxiously with three hundred Gold Dragons, as well as the reply and contract for House Tyrell, unwillingly.
After he left, Solomon immediately turned to Barna:
"Take these Gold Dragons out and put them in a box that one person can carry."
"Also, go gather everyone in the open plain outside the valley."
Some time later, on the high platform outside the valley, Solomon stood before everyone.
Below was a dark mass of subjects, looking curiously at the young lord on the platform.
At Solomon's feet, the box full of Gold Dragons was open. Everyone's gaze was attracted to the Gold Dragons, their breathing becoming cautious.
Solomon scanned the faces stained with sweat and dust below. Then, he bent down, picked up the heavy money chest with both hands, and poured the Gold Dragons onto the ground.
Clatter!
Golden hard objects poured out, scattering on the wooden planks of the high platform, colliding with each other, making a crisp, melodious, and maddening sound.
The crowd below sucked in a breath of cold air. Everyone was shocked by this scene of extreme luxury. They stared fixedly at that golden ocean, Adam's apples bobbing, breathing heavily.
Solomon looked at the crowd and spoke loudly: "Your Lord! Will never mistreat those who have merit!"
"I promised you, follow me, and you will have warmth and fullness. Now, I will honor it!"
"From today on, everyone who serves my family, in addition to fill-your-belly food, will also receive wages!"
"More work, more pay! No cap!"
"No matter who it is! Even beggars! Whores! As long as you exert effort for me!"
"The most ordinary miner, as long as the quota is met, can get one Silver Stag a month! Exceed the quota, and there are rewards!"
This number exploded in the crowd. The young lord told them that as long as they worked hard, they could earn a Silver Stag a month! The entire construction site was instantly ignited!
In Westeros, labor service for lords had always been unpaid; it was their duty. But now, their lord was going to pay them wages.
Someone shouted first. Immediately after, cheers like a tsunami gathered from all directions of the valley, deafening the ears.
The crowd waved their arms, jumping, roaring, using all their strength to cheer.
Solomon kicked the Gold Dragons at his feet. This is gratitude education.
The dark crowd looked at the young figure on the high platform, looked at the brilliant gold at his feet, eyes filled with fanaticism bordering on worship. It was unknown whether this worship was for the gold at Solomon's feet or Solomon himself, but that didn't matter anymore.
Because Solomon knew that in their hearts, Solomon's image had changed from a distant person who brought food to a more real, benevolent, and generous master who was willing to share wealth with them as long as they worked hard for him.
This point would distinguish him from the nobles of Westeros in the hearts of the people. It wasn't that they couldn't endure the darkness, but that they had never seen the firelight. People followed him not because there was a surname behind his name or countless terrifying titles, but because of what he gave them—visible and tangible.
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