When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1130 Beetles and Candy

"Have we already entered Jeanne d'Arc?" Looking at the flat square and houses outside the port, Bondo, who was visiting for the first time, still couldn't believe it.

As for Morocco, who looked around after disembarking, he couldn't believe it.

When he last came here, the port was just a dilapidated little fishing port surrounded by barren land.

But what about right now?

The tree-lined avenue, shaped like the Chinese character "丰", stretches from the fishing port into the distance, with rows of two- or three-story buildings on both sides.

The road uses elevation markings to clearly distinguish between pedestrian walkways and vehicle lanes.

Blue and white painted water delivery wagons, dark green painted postal wagons, black and red painted bank cash transport wagons guarded by seven or eight cavalrymen...

There were no cattle or sheep mooing or bleating, not much animal manure on the streets, and no beggars.

The residents may be simply dressed, but everyone is very clean, with no dust or years of grime on their faces.

Children, carrying satchels filled with writing boards and books, and wearing fedoras, chased each other down the street.

As for those street vendors commonly seen in cities—

The vendors who had set up thatched huts and piled up on both sides of the street, hawking their wares with their big black teeth, all gathered near the square.

The streets are straight and wide, and the houses are neat and uniform.

There were none of the serpentine streets, dark alleyways, and filthy, stinking markets typical of imperial cities.

"Uncle, is this Beetle Harbor?" Moloka asked, randomly stopping a well-dressed passerby.

The middle-aged man glanced at him and pointed to the sign at the port: "Isn't that what it says? There's even a beetle picture on it."

“Beetle Harbor…” Morocco repeated the Leia word, frowning and stroking his chin.

"You don't even know Beetle, Bitto!" The passerby thought he didn't know, so he recited the Elvish version of Beetleport in his thick Thousand River Valley dialect.

Moloka was stunned, while Kuvask next to him couldn't help but laugh.

Moloka couldn't help but ask in surprise, "You can read?"

"How novel!" The passerby uncle was both smug and annoyed at being looked down upon. "I was the top scorer in our village's literacy exam."

"You're a farmer?!" Morocco exclaimed in surprise. He looked at the linen shirt and the vest he was wearing, and he didn't look like a farmer at all.

"What do you mean? What's wrong with farmers? Did farmers eat your bread?" The passerby was genuinely a little angry. "Even the Holy Grandchildren are farmers. In our Holy Alliance, farmers are the most honorable!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was just talking nonsense." Moloka quickly explained and apologized, which finally calmed the man down.

The farmer didn't hold it against them because they were all immigrants.

As the saying goes, once you come, you're a member of the Holy Alliance. To express his enthusiasm, the farmer uncle simply explained the Holy Alliance's literacy policy before leaving.

This finally answered the questions that had been on their minds.

"Goodness gracious..." For the first time, Kuvask had a clear understanding of the financial resources of his hometown. "A nationwide literacy campaign, how much money would that cost?"

Bondo stroked his sparse beard: "Actually, this doesn't count as a nationwide literacy campaign. I just asked, and their literacy exam only requires knowing five or six hundred words."

At this level, one can only understand some simple notices and documents; reading newspapers would probably be difficult.

Like that guy just now, he learned this Beetleport El language from the newspaper.

"At least if I can understand the notice, I won't be taxed arbitrarily by the tax collectors." Moloka was very fond of this policy.

But behind them, a voice of dissent came from Hanzhong, who was without trousers: "Even if we understand the notice, what can the tax collectors do to us if they collect taxes arbitrarily?"

Moloka glared at the man who was spouting nonsense: "What do you know? Literate adults are voters, and voters can complain to their representatives."

If the representatives don't take action, voters can file a complaint with the opposing party's newspaper, ruining the party's reputation, and everyone will vote for someone else the following year.

These representatives are mostly from the local upper-middle class. They still have some say over a low-level tax collector, especially when the tax collector has violated regulations.

Even if they can't destroy you, they can still annoy you to death by using their power to control the government.

As instructed by the passerby, they all knew that they had to take a horse-drawn train to reach Joan of Arc.

As for the train station, it is located at the very end of the Feng-shaped street.

Carrying large and small bags, the group set off without stopping.

Walking on the wide street, you can clearly see the shops on both sides.

These row of street-front shops mostly have paneled facades reminiscent of Ernst architecture, but are essentially still small red-brick houses.

Under the eaves, there is often a long pole with a wooden sign hanging from it.

This is common in the cities of Fran and Leia, but what's different here is that the wooden signs of the Saint-Union shops, in addition to being engraved with patterns representing the goods and services sold (such as beer for taverns and hammers for blacksmith shops), also have words engraved on them.

This is because, as the economy of Saint Union develops, there may be more than two shops selling the same goods in a town.

Furthermore, Saint Union also has chain stores, such as the Enqing Department Store, which also has a grocery store.

These changes to the signboard were made in order to create a brand effect and differentiate the brand.

At the same time, more specialized and niche shops have also begun to emerge.

Examples include glove shops, hat shops, eyeglasses shops, watch shops, sword shops, and so on.

The original system of symbols naturally became less effective.

“Although we haven’t reached Jeanne d’Or yet,” Bondo said breathlessly, “even though this is my first time here, the Holy Alliance is indeed different from other places.”

Moloka didn't respond. Compared to Bondo's initial amazement upon his arrival, he was even more surprised by the speed of the Holy Alliance's development.

In seven or eight years, a small town sprang up from the ground.

Despite having only a thousand or so inhabitants, it was cleaner and more orderly than any major city in the empire.

As if talking to himself, Moloka uttered the newly coined word from the Holy Alliance: "...Advanced."

After walking for a short while, we arrived at the train station. The horse-drawn train runs about once every half hour and operates for about ten hours a day.

Thanks to government subsidies, the price is very cheap; a round trip can be done for just one dinar.

If you miss it, or there are too many people, you either have to walk there yourself, or rent an expensive horse-drawn carriage from the roadside.

Moloka and his group arrived at the right time; there were fewer people, so they didn't have to queue and boarded the carriage.

Today's horse-drawn trains are quite different from those of the past.

In addition to adding a spring-loaded auxiliary power unit, spring shock absorbers were also added, and a passenger compartment was also added as a result.

However, given the size of Morocco's population of over a hundred, it was impossible to transport them all at once; they had to leave in two batches.

The first group of over fifty people paid their fees, boarded the bus, and then sat down on the benches, clutching their packages tightly.

As the bell rang, the coachman cracked his whip, and the tall, muscular horse began to gallop forward, its strong legs unleashed.

The wheels churned and spun on the rails, and you could hear the clicking of the spring.

The scenery on both sides rushed past, and the men without trousers who were riding a horse-drawn train for the first time were very curious.

You know, for many of them, it was their first time riding in a horse-drawn carriage, so how could they not be excited?

However, compared to the other quiet and scattered passengers on the carriage, their excited chatter and strange shouts made Moloka feel somewhat embarrassed.

"Cough cough cough cough cough—" He coughed heavily several times, glared fiercely behind him, and then the carriage quieted down.

"uncle."

Moloka turned his head and saw a little dwarf suddenly stand up on the front row of seats.

He looked no more than ten years old, holding up a piece of candy wrapped in paper: "This is a cough syrup. I've had a sore throat before, it was so uncomfortable."

"Oh, my throat is fine."

"Uncle, don't force yourself. I just heard you coughing. This candy is very effective and it's very sweet." The child stubbornly handed over the candy.

"This……"

Moloka could only look at the child's parents, who were gazing at the child with admiration and nodding slightly at Moloka.

As the saying goes, when the granaries are full, people know etiquette. In recent years, while Horn has focused on industry, he has not neglected spiritual development.

Under the advocacy of the Holy Church of Sylph, cultivating good character in children has become the highest principle for the urban class of the Holy Union in raising their children.

Moloka was unaware of this and simply accepted the candy made of white sugar and herbs.

The child and his parents smiled when they saw him accept the candy.

As for the father, who was wearing a round-brimmed hat, he nodded to Moloka before turning back.

He paid no attention to the commotion that had just occurred, and there was not a trace of mockery on his face.

Moloka popped the candy into his mouth, and a sweet taste instantly filled his mouth, then coolly moistened his throat.

They disembarked at J.J.B. station and waited for their next group of companions to arrive.

Suddenly, someone exclaimed, "The people of the Holy Alliance are of higher quality than the people of France. I'm not just praising the people of the Holy Alliance!"

(End of this chapter)