Chapter 314: Chapter 233: Resident Life_2
Their simple life experience taught them that drinking fermented liquids actually resulted in fewer diseases. Beer brewed from grains was expensive, and ordinary people could only resort to picking berries or fruits to ferment in water.
Fermentation killed some of the bacteria and insect eggs, and to some extent, it was indeed a form of disinfection. However, that tart fruit wine tasted awful, and though the diseases it caused were slightly less risky than drinking raw water, it still posed dangers.
For thousands of years, this choice was merely the lesser of two evils, revealing the helplessness of the common folk.
So, when the drinking water stations were established, the threat of the epidemic helped popularize plain boiled water.
After trying it, most townsfolk honestly admitted that, if they could, no one would want to drink those tart, fermented beverages.
Everyone filled their cups and drank deeply, the cool, clear water flowing down their throats and seeping into their limbs, quelling the oppressive heat and replenishing their parched bodies.
Nothing could be more refreshing!
The lunch break was for eating. The permanent workers would go home for their meals, while those without permanent positions could actually enjoy the Lord’s communal pot.
They all gathered in the central square to receive their food: the standard two loaves of mixed-grain bread and a bowl of sea fish stew with vegetables.
The bread was palm-sized and was essentially black bread without any wood shavings or grass roots.
As for the soup, it was mostly vegetables with a pitifully small amount of fish, though it was generously salted; they hadn’t skimped on it.
But even so, they ate with extraordinary relish. Compared to the times when they had nothing, having food now was a blessing.
They soaked the bread in the soup, waited for it to soften a bit, then gobbled it down.
Everyone gathered in the shade, munching on bread and sipping soup. Once they settled down, they began to chat.
The topics ranged from the worksite to various events in the town, with the figure who naturally drew the most attention being My Lord.
"Have you heard? My Lord has gone into the northern wilderness again," someone said.
"I heard it long ago. It seems there’s a shortage of some herb for treating diseases, and My Lord went personally to look for it," another responded.
"..."
The inevitable breaktime chatter quickly spread word throughout the town of the Lord personally venturing into the wilderness to find medicine for the injured.
Even those porters, drenched in sweat under the blazing sun, couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.
In this vast Empire, how many Noble Lords would personally enter a dangerous wilderness to find herbs for a few sick commoners?
It would seem impossible to others, but they believed it, for this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.
Many knew that the Lord had previously brought back a doctor in the middle of the night for an injured man.
This was Hamlet!
Soon, a new recruitment notice was posted in the square. Someone stood to one side, loudly shouting, explaining the content to those who couldn’t read.
"Recruiting for the development of the northern wilderness! Three copper coins per day! Only one hundred places available! Participation is voluntary, first-come, first-served! Come and sign up!" he announced.
As the word spread, it immediately sparked discussion among the workers.
Such terms had little appeal for permanent workers, but for the casual laborers, it was a rare opportunity.
"Isn’t the wilderness dangerous, though? And the epidemic isn’t completely gone," one man expressed his concern, but those around him seemed unconcerned.
"Afraid of what? My Lord is out there, not to mention the army patrols," someone retorted.
"Exactly! Three copper coins a day. We’re not craftsmen; where else are we going to find work that pays this well?" said another.
Just as the two were talking, they noticed the man who had expressed concern had stood up and left. Only then did they realize his earlier worries were merely a ruse to get a head start. They quickly chased after him, grumbling.
"You rascal! Weren’t you just saying it’s dangerous?"
"Yeah, and you ended up being quicker than us!" they jeered.
"It might be dangerous," the man said with a good-natured smile, not minding their teasing as he quickened his pace. "But after this job, I’ll have money to buy some chicks. When they grow up, I’ll have eggs to eat."
Similar scenes occurred nearby, and soon the one hundred positions were filled. Those who missed out lamented their slowness.
Those who secured a spot were naturally overjoyed, ready to start work in the wilderness the very next day.
As the sun descended, workers busy at various construction sites finally laid down their tools for the day.
At this time of day, the foreman was particularly busy because he had to register the casual laborers and pay them their wages.
Most couldn’t read, so they only needed to press their fingerprint on the document and then collect their earnings from the foreman.
A man in line watched as the casual laborer before him collected just one copper coin after a day’s toil, a smile finally gracing the laborer’s face despite the meager pay.
Even one or two copper coins were precious assets to these refugees who had no family fortune whatsoever.
"Next!" the foreman called.
At the foreman’s shout, the man who had been watching quickly stepped up, pressed his fingerprint, and received his wages from the foreman.
His earnings were a little better—two copper coins—but his sweat-soaked clothes showed the price he paid.
"Foreman," the man said with a smile, "I won’t be coming tomorrow."
"Ah, you signed up for the development in the north, didn’t you?" the foreman replied. He wasn’t too surprised, having seen a few similar cases just moments before, and was actually happy for the man. "Make sure to work hard and don’t waste this opportunity. Contribute to the construction of Hamlet."