May.

It has been more than four months since Sophia's crop seeds were planted, and more than two months before the harvest.

Because of the stakes, almost every few days, Colin personally went everywhere to check on the growth of the crops.

The first round of sowing was not well planned in order to be in a hurry, and the crops were arranged in a messy and uneven manner, which at first glance was considered wild, coupled with the lack of manpower, and the subsequent cooking and fertilization could not keep up, resulting in the growth of other crops except for rye and wheat, the two most important grains, the growth of other crops did not meet Colin's best expectations.

The fields, mountains, and rocky fields are full of greenery.

It's just that these places are far from the traditional reclamation of Wintercover. Otherwise, those farmers who have decades of experience in reclamation will never be able to imagine that the fields they have carefully tended day and night are not as good as those crops that grow casually in the wild.

But even if they see it, they don't care too much.

Because this is the summer harvest season unique to Winterfell.

……

Late Winter City.

Inside a low thatched hut.

The man dragged his tired body home as usual, and saw his wife sitting on the stone that had been used as a stool in the doorway, and the farm tools in her hand had not been put down.

"Done with?" The man came back from the well outside the door and squatted on the ground to wash his face, but saw that the woman was still sitting there motionless.

"The fields have been harvested, everything that should be handed over has been handed over, and there is a lot more grain left over this year than last year." While the woman spoke, her eyes were dull and dazed.

"Isn't that good, what's wrong with you?"

"Just now in the field, the lord sent someone to inform that this year's autumn sowing has all stopped."

"Stop?" The man's hand washing his face suddenly stopped.

"yes, I've got the seeds ready." The woman sighed.

"Stop sowing, what will happen to next year's grain?"

"I don't know, it seems that the leader will take back the land."

"It's impossible, who will take it back?"

"Then who knows, you didn't hear from the blacksmith?" The woman asked rhetorically.

"There is also chaos in the blacksmith shop, as if after this month, the blacksmith shop in the city will be closed." The man sighed.

"What then?" The woman is really anxious this time.

The conditions of their family were quite acceptable, because the men worked in the blacksmith shop, and in addition to saving one person's rations, they could also receive a monthly grain from the fortress.

So even if she is the only woman in the family who works in the fields, life is going smoothly.

Unlike most families in Winterfell who have only one son, they now study at the school on the other side of the square, going in the morning and returning in the evening, although there is one less helper, but one less mouth to eat—the school is in charge of the meal, and they can still eat enough.

Every time a woman thinks that her son has grown a lot of meat recently, she can happily hoe an extra piece of land.

It's a pity that now the land is gone, and my husband's job is gone.

What's next for this home?

"Don't worry, I'll go out tomorrow to ask, it's not just our family, the lord won't drive us away." But there was not much confidence in the man's words. It's not uncommon for lords to be driven away because of a bad harvest, and although the Duke has never done this before, no one knows what the new lord is like, but the lord has reduced everyone's taxes before......

"If you really drive us away, there's nowhere to go." The woman said in despair.

The husband and wife were sitting facing each other, and there was a noisy sound of footsteps outside the door.

"Is the Raff family here?"

There were two people standing at the door, looking like adults from the fortress.

"I'm Raff." The man hurried out.

"You work in a blacksmith?" An adult with a pen and paper in his hand outside the door asked.

"Yes." A man named Raff hastened to respond.

"Starting next month, don't go to the blacksmith." In the panic of the husband and wife, they continued: "Go to work in the alchemy workshop over there in Dongcheng, if you don't know the way, find the manager of your current blacksmith shop, and he will take you with you." ”

"My lord, what are we going to do there?" The man asked boldly.

"You'll find out when you go." This man was obviously asked this question countless times, and he didn't bother to answer it, and then said, "Your woman is a farmer?" ”

"Yes, yes."

"Autumn sowing has stopped, you know?"

"Yes."

"After two months, the land will be redivided for your family, and if you are not contacted or your family is missing, you can go to the government office in the center of the city to ask yourself...... Do you still have a son in school? ”

"Yes, yes." The man was happy and hurriedly replied.

"The government office is not far from the school, you can't, just ask your son to ask."

"But he's only twelve." The man froze.

"Twelve years old knows more than you do."

The adult kept revising something on the paper, and muttered a complaint: "The previous demographic was so bad that it was like doing it all over again." ”

After he finished revising it, he asked again, "By the way, does your woman have a name?" ”

"Uh......" the man hesitated, "Her name is Wheat Straw." ”

Because they were converted from serfs, most of the Winterfell peasants had no names.

Serfs could not have a name, let alone a surname, and although Duke Oliver had long responded to the kingdom's decree to abolish slaves, it was no different in this regard.

Peasants are often born and call whatever they see, stones, wells, hammers, etc., or simply call out a strange pronunciation, and take it as a name.

Because she was born in a wheat field, the woman was named Wheat Straw by her parents, but there are actually many people like her, so the whole of Twilight City is called Wheat Straw, not a thousand, but eight hundred.

And the peasants, who were accustomed to the original name, did not think of giving themselves a more formal name, their thinking was still stuck in the slave stage, and even most serfs did not know that there was such a thing as an abolition order.

Raff didn't have a name in the first place, and it was made on the spot during Winterfall's first census, but at that time, the conditions were insufficient, and for convenience, one person in each family had a name.

"It's all called wheat straw, who knows who's who, come here, find one from here." As the person spoke, he handed over the paper in his hand: "Well, here, just point to one." ”

The woman came over resignedly, and looked at the paper blindly for a long time before she trembled and stretched out her finger and clicked on one of the words.

"Okay, you'll be called Leah from now on."

"Leah." The woman repeated it a little dazedly.

Before the couple could react, the man had already left with his companion and walked to the next house.

There was no sound in the low, dimly lit grass hut for a long time.

Half a day.

The woman slowly spoke: "My name is Leah." ”

He seemed to be talking to his husband, and it was like talking to himself.

"Yes, your name is Leah." The man seemed to be able to relate to her feelings, because he felt the same way at the beginning.

"Can you call me Leah in the future?" The woman looked at her husband with begging eyes.

"Of course, you're called Leah." The man laughed.

"My name is Leah, my name is Leah......"

The woman reached out and hugged her husband, repeating this sentence repeatedly, and tears could not stop flowing, even happier than knowing that her husband had a job again and that she still had land to plant.