The messy scrolls of parchment felt heavy in Solomon's hands, giving him a more substantial sense of weight than an equivalent volume of gold.
His fingertips slid over the densely packed names. Every name represented a living life, a family, and a mobilizable force—his core assets.
"You have done well! My Administrative Officers!" Solomon's voice echoed in the council chamber, carrying an irrepressible excitement.
"Everything for Lord Solomon!" The four Administrative Officers stood straight, their gazes focused on Solomon, their hands still trembling constantly.
That was excitement. They were Administrative Officers promoted by Solomon from commoners to nobles (Note: Likely minor officials/gentry, not full nobles yet). Now they had completed the task given by Lord Solomon and received verbal praise.
"The implementation of the Three Chiefs System has been effective so far! Remarkable results!" Solomon put down the messy and heavy parchment scrolls, turned around, and looked at them. "As of yesterday! My territory! Registered adult usable males! Totaling eight hundred and seventeen!"
"Total population of the territory, two thousand one hundred and thirty-six people."
Luchen and Lauchlan didn't know what this meant and scratched their heads, but seeing Lord Solomon so happy, they also smiled. But Evelyn knew what this meant. There was absolutely no lord in Westeros who could grasp the land in their hands like this. This Three Chiefs System was like a giant net, catching everyone firmly in it, and the net holder was Solomon.
"You did very well!" Solomon's gaze swept over the four Administrative Officers again. Every Administrative Officer caught by his gaze raised their head and puffed out their chest.
Solomon didn't stint on praise. This showed that the grassroots system was working and was indeed feasible. Although using soldiers as grassroots bureaucrats would definitely lead to rough governance, in a medieval society, what more could one ask for?
"Verbal commendation is meaningless!" Solomon turned to Luchen and Lauchlan. "Go to my storeroom! Take four bags of Gold Dragons! Ten in each bag! Give them to the four Administrative Officers to take back!"
"Reward every Tax Officer! Military Officer! Household Chief! Neighborhood Chief! Family Head in the Military Forts!"
A flash of surprise and joy passed through the eyes of the four simultaneously. Ten Gold Dragons, even if distributed equally, was a considerable fortune for them.
"This is just the beginning!" Solomon looked at their joyful faces. "As long as you produce results! What you will get in the future! Will be far more than this!"
The four bowed and thanked him one after another. They knew Lord Solomon's generosity had been proven countless times before; he would never mistreat those who served him.
Solomon restrained his smile, changed the subject, and took another thinner list from Evelyn: "Now, let's talk business."
That list was exactly the directory of bandit families screened out from the civil register.
"Clearing out mountain bandits will inevitably result in casualties, which is not worth the loss." Solomon's finger tapped on the list. "War is not just about swords. Sometimes, the human heart is more fragile than steel and also stronger than a fortress."
Solomon looked up, scanning everyone: "We attack the heart as the superior strategy."
"Return to your respective Military Forts immediately." Solomon issued the order, his tone unquestionable. "Gather all the family members on this list, whether they are children, wives, or parents."
"Gather them for what, Lord Solomon?" an Administrative Officer couldn't help asking.
"Let them prepare one thing." The corner of Solomon's mouth curled into an inscrutable arc. "A token that best represents the emotional bond between them and their relatives up on the mountain."
"It can be an old piece of clothing worn by a child, a ring used when pledging love, or a mother's hairpin."
"Tell them, these things are used to bring their family members home."
In the council chambers of the four Military Forts, similar scenes were playing out almost simultaneously.
Hundreds of men, women, old, and young with fearful faces were invited here by soldiers.
Most of them were dressed in rags, their expressions numb, eyes filled with fear of the unknown.
They were families of bandits. This identity was like an invisible brand, making them unable to lift their heads in the territory. Since people learned they had mountain bandits in their families, everyone was afraid of being implicated and avoided them upon seeing them. At the same time, it also made them worry about the Lord's judgment at all times.
They knew that once this kind of thing was exposed, as relatives, the final result would only be the whole family being hanged.
Before this, during House Terry's rule, they had seen too much of this.
The Administrative Officer of Crack-Valley Fort stood at the front of his Military Fort's council chamber, looking at the desperate faces below, feeling mixed emotions.
Before this, he was also just a commoner, like these people below.
He cleared his throat, trying to make his somewhat shaky voice sound steady: "Everyone! Please be quiet!"
The commotion in the crowd gradually subsided, but the atmosphere of fear became even thicker. The crowd trembled in silence.
A white-haired old woman hugged her granddaughter tightly, shaking like a fallen leaf in the wind. Just a few days ago, she personally reported her son. She regretted it a little, believing in the rumored benevolence of Solomon, not knowing if it was right or wrong. It didn't matter if she died; she was afraid her granddaughter would also be killed.
She had lived on this land all her life, so why was she confused in her old age? She had never seen a noble's benevolence.
Gathering them here, wasn't it just to kill them all together? The old woman sobbed softly.
The sobbing drove the sorrowful emotions in the council chamber, causing the Administrative Officer to not know how to continue speaking.
Seeing the Administrative Officer seemed unsure how to proceed, the Military Officer stepped forward and spoke. His first sentence finally loosened the tense atmosphere a little: "Inviting everyone here today! Is not for judgment! Nor for punishment!"
He saw confusion flash in some people's eyes and raised his hands to wave:
"Lord Solomon, our Lord, asked us to convey his benevolence and promise to everyone, as well as your family members far away in the high mountains."
The Administrative Officer stepped forward, took a deep breath, and repeated Solomon's original words verbatim:
"I swear in the name of Solomon!"
When the name Solomon was solemnly pronounced, a small ripple arose in the crowd. This name, on the land beneath their feet, represented absolute power and also represented a will that could not be defied.
"All your family members in the high mountains, as long as they are willing to walk down the mountain and return to their families, all crimes they committed in the past, regardless of size, will be forgiven."
This sentence was like a huge boulder thrown into stagnant water, instantly stirring up a thousand waves.
"What?"
"Not pursuing it anymore?"
"Is this true? Not a trap?"
"Or is it to trick them down and kill them!"
The council chamber instantly exploded. People whispered to each other, faces full of disbelief. They dreamed of their family members coming back, but were afraid they would be purged after returning. Since Lord Solomon came to this land, every family had obtained their own public land (Gong Tian - likely meant private plots or sharecropping rights), and could even reclaim land for temporary use before more population needed allocation. As long as there were males in the family working hard, their harvest and life would get better and better.
The three officials didn't stop their discussion. They waited quietly, letting this news ferment slowly in their hearts, changing from suspicion to a glimmer of hope. When the voices subsided slightly, they threw a second stone into the lake, a heavier stone.
"Not only pardon!" The Military Officer's voice raised a few notches, overpowering all the noise. "Every male! Lord Solomon will grant public land! Enough for them to farm! Enough for them to feed their families! Enough for them to live a stable life!"
A middle-aged woman covered her mouth, tears instantly bursting from her eyes. The man beside her, a fellow unable to go up the mountain due to a broken leg, grabbed her hand excitedly, knuckles turning white from force. The reason their child fled into the high mountains was because during House Terry's time, even though there was abandoned land everywhere, they weren't allowed to farm it.
Land. To them, serfs struggling at the bottom with nothing, the weight of this word was heavier than gold, more practical than life. It represented food, represented roots, represented a real home. And since Lord Solomon arrived, he had distributed land to every family to farm.
The spark of hope was ignited in everyone's eyes, quickly starting a prairie fire. Despair and fear were swept away, replaced by a hope bordering on fanaticism.
"My Lord, is what you said true?" a bold old man asked loudly.
As one of the earliest followers of Solomon, the Military Officer answered in a deep voice:
"I guarantee it with my life and honor!"
"Lord Solomon's promise! Never fails!"
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