industrial lord

Chapter 812 "Our Own People"

The winter sun shines through the stained glass windows, casting colorful spots on the tabletop.

Polina sat at the table with a freshly cut piece of grilled meat in front of her, and an older woman placed a freshly boiled ginger ale in front of her.

The elementary school across the street was bustling with activity. After a thorough cleaning this morning, they were about to begin their winter break.

Polina ate her breakfast at a leisurely pace, holding a newspaper in her hand and carefully reading each word.

Pavel had told her that there were reports in the newspapers about the political developments in the Duchy of Wessen, but she didn't believe them.

Politics is something that nobles discuss in private rooms; it's never discussed publicly.

It wasn't until that day, when the front page of the Vissen Daily featured a photograph of the Grand Duke and Duchess of Vissen, and the pattern on Duchess of Vissen's dress resembled the design she had drawn on the anonymous letter, that people began to believe it.

Polina has now developed a habit of going downstairs every morning to eat breakfast while reading the newspaper, and a news item in the White Stork Times today has caught her attention.

"Welcome!"

The auntie had a heavy accent and could only speak a few simple words, which was barely enough.

She came from the Ghazi Empire, and it is said that she and the new queen came from the same city. However, the slave market where her son worked sold the queen in a cage, and the whole family boarded a ship overnight to seek refuge with distant relatives.

Pavel walked to the menu on the wall, ordered a set meal, paid, and then sat down opposite Polina.

"How is your father?" Polina asked.

Pavel's father was in poor health. Doctors at the Vessen Military Academy Hospital and the Vessenburg General Hospital diagnosed him with weakness, saying he needed to rest.

“It’s alright,” Pavel replied. “One of my instructors suggested that I rent a vegetable garden near the city and hire one or two people to help. The main thing is that it’s quiet, and working in the garden myself is also a good form of exercise.”

“My father found it interesting, and these past few days he and that instructor have been looking at places through real estate agents.”

Polina smiled and said, "It looks nice. I've heard about vegetable gardens like this before."

"I also heard that some people rent out gardens to grow flowers and then sell the dried flowers to teahouses."

"I'd like to try it too."

For a young girl like her, who comes from a family of pharmacists, growing and selling herbs is a common occurrence.

Now that she has "sneaked" to the Duchy of Weisen, she can't just sit around and do nothing; she's been thinking about making money lately.

“Take a look at this news article.” Polina handed over the newspaper.

Pavel took the newspaper and stirred the oatmeal in the bowl with his other hand, steam rising and carrying the aroma of honey and nuts.

He carefully read the news that Polina had shown him.

The front page of the newspaper featured a black-and-white print illustration—a young woman standing behind a machine that was spitting out noodle-like substances, surrounded by shimmering lights.

Since telegrams couldn't fax photos at the time, Paul could only describe the images in words, leaving the newspaper's graphic designers to work with them.

The graphic designer had seen a noodle machine, so he assumed that crystal noodles were made by pressing "crystal dough" like regular noodles, and therefore drew them as if they were made noodles.

The news story tells of this legendary Bohemian woman who, after arriving in the Duchy of Wessen, followed her husband to the south to develop the country. After discovering a business opportunity, she obtained a loan and established a crystal noodle factory in Golden Bean Port.

Paul's writing is vivid, describing how, with her husband's support, she went from the living room and kitchen to the factory workshop, and how she transformed from a young housewife into a factory owner.

"You wouldn't believe it, would you?" Polina's eyes lit up. "The inspiration for the opera 'Princess Crystal Slipper' was actually a Bohemian!"

"I never imagined she would open a factory so far away, a crystal noodle factory at that!"

"It's the crystal noodles you brought back!"

While watching the news, Pavel said, "It is indeed based on a true story. I passed through Iron Mine Town on the train a while ago and heard about it from the locals."

“It looks very interesting,” Polina said. “I’d like to go there sometime.”

Pavel laughed and said, "I heard that a travel company is planning to arrange tours to the Bohemian region at a very cheap price, cheaper than my travel expenses home."

Polina said with some envy, "I never imagined she would become a factory owner."

Pavel smiled slightly. He had seen this reaction many times before. Every Bohemian who came to the Duchy of Wessen for the first time was amazed by the possibilities for the future here.

In their homeland, nobles managed the land, commoners tended to it, and magicians explored its mysteries.

But here, there are countless choices.

“In the Duchy of Wessen,” he said calmly, “anything is possible.”

Polina ate her breakfast quietly, seemingly lost in thought.

After more than ten minutes, she said, "I wonder if it's easy for Ella to get that small and medium-sized enterprise support loan. It would be great if I could use my father's collection as collateral."

“The land for the factory needs to be allocated by the municipal government, and I’m afraid my father will lose face here.”

Pavel asked her curiously, "What kind of factory do you plan to build?"

Polina paused for a moment, then said somewhat blankly, "I don't know either."

“As you saw in the news, Ms. Ella stated that her products will be prioritized for food aid programs in Bohemia. ‘My homeland nurtured me, and now it’s time for me to give back,’ she said.”

“I admire her very much for being able to do so much for her hometown.”

She continued to think as she spoke.

Pavel said earnestly, "Investment requires caution; don't easily venture into areas you're unfamiliar with."

Investment failures are occasionally reported in newspapers, but are often ignored by many people.

Polina looked up, her eyes filled with complex emotions, and said, "I can find someone to cooperate with. The key is that we are not from the Duchy of Wesen. I didn't expect to be able to get a loan and an opportunity."

After swallowing the roasted meat, Pavel said, "Because the Duchy of Wessen has always considered the Bohemians as one of their own." "Not mountain people, not fugitives, but one of their own, just like the locals."

Polina was suddenly stunned. The words "one of our own" had a strong impact on her. If Pavel hadn't said it, she would have thought he was just trying to fool her.

At the same moment, in the city of Budvis, Mayor Holleček had the same thought.

Holleček put down his newspaper, stood up, and paced around the office, the thick carpet absorbing the sound of his footsteps.

A map hangs on the wall, showing the latest construction progress of the industrial park, a symbol of hope for the city's rise.

Today, the newspaper brings even greater hope: a Bohemian woman who built a factory with a loan from the Duchy of Wessen, using the products to give back to her hometown's aid program.

what does this mean?
This means that ordinary people can become builders, and that aid is not a one-way giver and receiver, but can form a cycle.

This means that the Bohemians were truly considered one of their own by the Duchy of Wessen.

In the evening, the mayor walked into his usual beer hall, which was jokingly referred to as his unofficial office.

The venue was crowded tonight, with workers, small shop owners, and railway staff sitting around the wooden tables.

The air was filled with a mixture of smells from beer, grilled sausages, and sweat.

Holleček greeted an acquaintance and accepted a beer that had been brought from elsewhere.

"I want to see how other beers compare to mine!"

He often says that.

With the first bite, the rich aroma of caramelized food melted on his tongue, and he closed his eyes to carefully analyze the taste.

After a few drinks, the effects of the alcohol began to set in.

He overheard people at the next table arguing about today's news.

Holleček felt a rush of heat to his head, suddenly stood up, stepped onto the chair, and straddled the table.

The hall fell silent instantly, and everyone looked at the mayor—he was obese, like a beer barrel, but his movements were not clumsy; he stood steadily in the center of the wooden table, holding a beer glass high in his hand.

“Friends!” His voice boomed, cutting through the crackling of the firewood in the fireplace. “Let me say a few words! About opportunity! About gratitude! About this!”

He pulled a newspaper from his pocket and waved it around, the paper rustling.

"Look at this! Ella! Our daughter of Bohemia! She built a factory in Golden Bean Harbor! Producing noodles—as clear as crystal, as strong as leather rope! How did she do it? The Duchy of Wessen gave her the opportunity! Gave her land! Gave her the technology!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the faces that were turned upwards.

What were we like a few years ago?

"Shops are closed, granaries are empty, and children are crying from hunger."

"Then Grand Duke Wessen arrived—and the Grand Duke declared that our beer was the best under the sun!"

"With just that one sentence, orders came in! Jobs came in! Railways came in! Gold coins came in!"

A round of enthusiastic applause erupted in the tavern.

Holleček took a swig of his drink and continued, "This year we suffered from disaster, and then there was food aid."

"I've lived for so many years and suffered countless disasters, but this is the first time I've ever seen disaster relief!"

"As long as you are strong and willing to work on the construction site, you can earn enough to feed your family!"

A chorus of approval erupted in the tavern.

Holleček slammed the newspaper on the table and shouted drunkenly, "She came from Bohemia too! She too once had nothing!"

"But now, her factory is going to supply food for our aid program!"

The intoxication made his language more direct and his emotions more intense.

“My father’s generation said that Bohemians were like weeds on the ground, and people from all directions could come and trample on them.”

Everyone sighed. Based on their own experience, the Osmagor Empire and the Kingdom of Piast had fought countless battles here, resulting in the deaths of countless locals.

Holleček's voice was lower, but every word was clear as he said, "But Grand Duke Wessen said—no, he didn't say it, he did it!"

"He built the railroad, he promoted our beer, he provided food, he gave loans, he got Hojenproz and others to help us, and he helped people like Ella stand up and make a fortune!"

He raised his glass, the wine shimmering with an amber light in the firelight.

"Why? Because in his eyes, Bohemians are not outsiders, but one of his own!"

"This land is not a hunting ground for plunder, but our own home!"

"We are not weeds, we are builders!"

"What we are welcoming is no longer war, no longer plunder, but the kindness of Grand Duke Wessen!"

The atmosphere grew increasingly lively, and the entire tavern stood up, glasses were raised high, and the sound of clinking glasses rose like a tidal wave.

Someone began to sing—an old Bohemian folk song about wheat fields, rivers, and family.

Holleček stood on the table, watching all of this.

In his drunken state, he seemed to see no longer a tavern, but a not-too-distant future: railway networks extending, factories being built, and gold coins flying in endlessly...

Ultimately, with the help of Grand Duke Wessen, this city will completely emerge from the shadow of war and build its own future.

(End of this chapter)