Is this cheat code from Bika? Just do it!

In this way, the glistening, moist, and alluring "garden" was immediately and completely exposed to Link's eyes, exuding a fatal temptation.

"Quick, Link!"

Agnes's voice carried a hint of urgency and longing, like a lightning bolt streaking across the night sky, instantly igniting a flame in Link's heart.

Agnes, who hadn't had close contact with anyone for a long time, was actually quite impatient.

The longing surged into her heart like a tide, wave after wave, making her almost unable to control herself.

Link paused for a moment, then a knowing smile appeared on his face.

He held her soft, hot body tightly in his arms, aiming his "weapon" precisely at her mysterious entrance, then slowly exerted force, like a brave knight, forcing open her long-awaited, alluring flesh, and penetrating her deeply and powerfully—

"Oh--"

Almost simultaneously, a low, pleasurable groan escaped their throats, a sound that seemed like the most beautiful melody in the world, echoing in the air.

The long-awaited feeling of joy surged into their minds like a tide, instantly overwhelming all other senses.

They seemed to be in a dream world that belonged only to them, where only each other existed and there was only endless joy.

Agnes's gaze was dreamy, her eyes alluring, like two dazzling stars, shimmering with captivating light.

She stretched out her snow-white arms, like vines, and tightly embraced his neck, her bright red lips slightly parted, signaling her desire for his pleasure.

Her appearance was like that of a kitten longing to be pampered, making one feel tenderness and pity.

Link felt an indescribable, immense pressure emanating from both sides, tightly gripping his "weapon," a sensation so comfortable it almost made his scalp tingle.

He felt as if he were in a warm ocean, surrounded by endless tenderness.

“That’s wonderful, Agnes.”

Gazing at her thirsty and alluring appearance, he leaned forward slightly and kissed her soft and sweet lips again, while gently thrusting his hips and beginning to sprint cautiously.

Each sprint is like throwing a pebble into a calm lake, creating ripples.

Agnes reached the peak of pleasure time and time again, her whole body covered in fragrant sweat, as if she had been drenched in rain.

The glistening beads of sweat on her delicate skin added to her alluring charm.

When Link released himself inside her again, she was like a limp lump of mud, collapsing helplessly in his arms.

She lay quietly on the bed, in Link's arms, her face flushed, as beautiful as the sunset.

She was so weak that it seemed a gentle breeze could blow her away.

His eyelids were drooping, as if he might fall asleep at any moment. A sense of contentment emanated from him, an aura like the fragrance of flowers, filling the entire room.

157. The Merchant Arrives

In the early morning, the sky was still shrouded in a hazy gray-blue, and a thin mist, like a soft veil, silently spread, gently enveloping the vast expanse of water. Especially in the wide and open areas, the water vapor seemed to be gently stirred by an invisible hand, rising and swirling like a dreamlike wisp of smoke, drifting leisurely in the breeze, adding a touch of mystery to the tranquil morning.

A crisp, resonant sound, like a sharp sword, shattered the silken stillness of the early morning. A medium-sized sailboat, over twenty meters long, emerged slowly from the thick, milky fog, like a mysterious phantom. Its hull appeared and disappeared in the mist, its sails billowing in the wind, making a soft rustling sound, as if telling a story from afar.

Immediately afterward, another sailboat, like a colossal beast breaking through the fog, burst forth. Closely following behind were more than a dozen small and medium-sized sailboats of varying sizes, linked together like a winding, coiling dragon, appearing and disappearing in the fog, creating a mysterious and magnificent spectacle. The crew members moved about busily and methodically, some adjusting the sails, others observing the course ahead, each face showing focused anticipation.

On the foremost sailboat stood two men standing upright. One was tall and stern, with a composed and wise look in his eyes; this was Cliff. The other was obese, his round belly resembling a balloon about to burst, and he always wore a smile; this was Vikson.

As Vikson spoke, he stretched lazily, his obese body trembling slightly with the movement. Then, he licked his lips, his pink tongue leaving a damp trail. His mind involuntarily conjured up the mouthwatering delicacies mentioned in the letters Farahia had sent them: fragrant roasted whole lamb, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside honey cake, and rich, flavorful wine… Thinking about it, a look of anticipation crept onto his face, his lips curving upwards, and he almost drooled.

“Mr. Cliff, judging from the situation, we should be approaching the territory of Winter City soon,” Vikson said excitedly, his voice filled with barely concealed excitement.

Cliff frowned slightly, glancing at Vikson with a somewhat strange look, and muttered to himself: Why does this guy seem so excited about going to Winterfell? What could possibly be so appealing about this remote border town in the North? In Cliff's mind, Winterfell was nothing more than a remote, cold, and impoverished place, where people lived in hardship and the city was dilapidated—there was really nothing to look forward to.

"Yes, we're almost there," Cliff replied calmly, his voice utterly uneventful, as if he had little anticipation for Winterhold.

"I don't know why, but I'm filled with anticipation for my life in Winterhold." A bright smile spread across Vikson's plump face, his eyes narrowing to slits, as if he could already see the bright future of Winterhold. He continued, "You know, Princess Falashia spoke highly of the North and its King in her letter. Moreover, it seems that many of the best-selling goods from our merchant guild on the market were made by him. I've heard that he not only has an exceptional business acumen but is also very skilled at governing his territory, managing Winterhold with great efficiency, and ensuring the people live in peace and prosperity. I really want to see for myself what kind of person he is."

"Heh..." Cliff's lips curled into a slightly mocking smile, utterly baffled as he couldn't understand what had gotten into this guy. In his view, Vikson was simply misled by the exaggerated claims in Falashia's letter. What kind of ability could a lord of a small border town possibly have? To say he could govern Winterfell so well was simply a fantasy.

Looking at him like this, does he really want to settle down in Winterfell? This thought amused Cliff, and he couldn't help but secretly laugh at Vickson's naivety and childishness.

Cliff shook his head slightly, clearing his mind of those extraneous thoughts, and then asked softly, "Those merchants, were they all summoned by you?"

“That’s right! Some of the goods from the guild were resold to these merchants before, and now that they’ve heard we’re coming to Winterfell, they’re clamoring to come along and take a look.” Vikson spread his hands, a helpless expression on his face, as if the merchants’ enthusiasm was overwhelming him. “They all think that since our guild values ​​Winterfell so much, there must be a lot of business opportunities here. So, they all want to come and try their luck, maybe they can make a fortune.”

"Huh?" Cliff's mind raced with countless thoughts, but he never expected this reason. He had initially thought these merchants had come for other reasons, but it turned out it was because the merchant guild had business dealings with Winterfell. This made him even more curious about Winterfell; he wondered what kind of charm this small border town possessed that could attract so many merchants.

“Don’t be so surprised. Whoever comes to Winter City will attract even more people, especially those money-grubbing merchants.” Vikson’s tone carried a complex mix of emotions, an understanding of the merchants’ profit-driven nature, and an expectation for Winter City’s future development. “They’re like sharks smelling blood; they’ll pounce on any opportunity to make money without hesitation. But doesn’t that also demonstrate Winter City’s potential?”

“Indeed, it must be admitted that Winterfell has changed dramatically,” Cliff nodded slightly. Although they were both merchants, they each had their own intelligence organizations, and Cliff was well aware that Winterfell was changing almost daily, appearing a different scene every day. It was said that Winterfell was undergoing large-scale infrastructure construction, building roads, docks, and houses, giving the city a completely new look. Furthermore, the King in the North had introduced a series of policies to encourage commercial development, attracting many merchants and investors.

However, since he hadn't witnessed it firsthand, Cliff didn't feel much about it. In his view, these were just rumors, and he needed to verify the truth for himself.

The two stood quietly at the bow of the boat, gazing into the distance at the gradually dissipating mist. At that moment, the morning sun was slowly rising, like golden threads piercing through the thin mist and sprinkling its light on the water, creating shimmering ripples. That golden radiance draped the entire world in a warm and magnificent hue, as if dressing the earth in a brand new garment.

After about half an hour, the mist on the river finally dissipated completely. The sunlight shone brightly on the earth, illuminating every corner.

Looking up, the bustling scene in the distance instantly drew everyone's attention. The riverbank was teeming with people and vehicles, a scene of bustling activity. Some were carrying timber, others were carrying stones, and still others were directing construction; everyone's face radiated enthusiasm and energy.

"Those are... the commoners of Winterhold?" Cliff stood on tiptoe, craning his neck, his eyes fixed on the group carrying timber and stones. His eyes revealed a hint of surprise and curiosity; he hadn't expected to see such a lively scene in this remote border town.

“They must be expanding the docks!” Vikson said in a low voice, his eyes narrowing slightly. He carefully observed the situation on the shore and saw that the civilians were busy clearing the site and setting up scaffolding, clearly preparing for the dock expansion. “It seems that Winter City is developing faster than we imagined, even the docks are being expanded. This shows that trade here is becoming more and more prosperous, and the volume of goods is increasing.”

At this moment, the merchants also woke up from their sleep and came to the deck. Looking at the people working hard in the distance, their faces showed surprise. They had originally thought that Winterfell was a poor and backward small town, but the scene before them took them by surprise.

"What's going on here?" The merchants looked at the commoners who were digging sand from the river with puzzled expressions. They had never seen such a large-scale construction scene before, and their hearts were filled with questions and curiosity.

“They’re expanding the dock!” a portly, middle-aged man said with a grin. He had just stepped out of the cabin, rubbing his sleepy eyes, but answered faster than anyone else. This man was Solo, a bigwig in the business world and a wealthy merchant from the capital. He mainly engaged in the transportation business, transporting cheap and rare goods from various regions back to the capital for sale and making huge profits. He had traveled all over the country and seen a lot of the world, so he could see the situation on the shore at a glance.

Seeing this, the surrounding businessmen readily made way, their eyes revealing a hint of awe and envy. They all knew Solo's status and influence in the business world, and it was an honor to stand alongside him.

"Father, why did we come here? I want to go back to the capital. I miss the delicious pastries there." Just then, a child's voice came from beside them. Seemingly sensing the chill of the North, the little boy unconsciously tightened his clothes, his tone filled with strong disdain. This little boy was Solo's youngest son, Gol. He had lived a pampered life in the capital since childhood, never experiencing hardship, so he was full of resistance to Winterfell, this remote and cold place.

Solo smiled; his bearded face gave off a kind impression. He looked down at his youngest son, Gol. Gol, a seven or eight-year-old boy with gray hair, was pouting, looking unwilling. Solo gently patted Gol's head and patiently taught him, "Gol, every place has its meaning and its own value. We can't dislike a place or a person just because of external factors. Like Winterfell, although it seems remote and poor now, it has enormous potential. Look, the people here are working hard to build their homes; their enthusiasm and drive are truly admirable. As for the pastries, Father has a few in his bag; we'll eat them when we get ashore."

"Oh!" Gerd drawled, curling his lip in dismission. He couldn't hear a word his father said, his mind only on the delicious pastries and comfortable life in the capital.

Solo didn't care about his youngest son's attitude. He knew that children needed to be taught step by step. Lately, his youngest son had become far too unruly, spending his days eating, drinking, and playing without any ambition. That's why he decided to keep him by his side and discipline him properly, to make him understand the hardships of life and the importance of hard work.

158. Disgraceful

The fleet continued forward and soon came to a stop beside a pier that was still under construction. Since construction on the pier had only begun yesterday afternoon and only some simple cleaning work had been done so far, larger ships could not dock at all and had to transfer to smaller boats to reach the original small pier.

The crew busily lowered the small boats, loading the merchants and goods onto them one by one. The boats rocked and swayed forward in the water, splashing up white spray.

"The nobleman of this territory is a capable man." As they switched to a small boat, Solo looked at the smiling faces of the commoners working and couldn't help but sincerely admire them. He noticed that although these commoners' faces showed fatigue, they radiated happiness and contentment, indicating that their lives had hope and they were full of confidence in the future. "Commoners with such smiles show that this nobleman governs well, making people full of expectations for him. A nobleman who can make his people live a happy life must be a wise and responsible nobleman."

Vikson happened to be nearby, or rather, Solo had deliberately come to his side. Hearing this, Vikson nodded affirmatively and said, “Lord Link is indeed a capable nobleman; otherwise, Lady Farahia and Princess Safina wouldn’t have valued him so highly and chosen him. Lord Link not only possesses outstanding leadership skills but also deeply cares about the lives of his people. He has implemented many policies to benefit the people, encouraging farmers to cultivate wasteland and develop agriculture; supporting merchants in trade to promote economic development; and emphasizing education, establishing schools, and cultivating talent. Under his rule, Winterfell has undergone tremendous changes and become increasingly prosperous.”

"Eh? Lord Vikson rarely praises people like this. This makes me even more curious about the nobles in the territory." Solo's conversational skills were superb, making everyone feel very comfortable. He subtly expressed his curiosity and respect for Lord Link, while also bridging the gap between himself and Vikson.

"Hahahaha." Vikson laughed heartily and said, "We're here. Let's go ashore. Once you see Lord Link in person, you'll know what an amazing person he is."

Vikson was the first to leap ashore, his obese body arcing through the air before landing steadily. He reached out and pulled his wife down as well; she was dressed in elegant clothes, a gentle smile on her face. Then, he called out to the coachmen by the dock, "Carriage rental! Over here!"

"Hehe! Guests, it costs one copper coin per person to ride in the carriage!" A moment later, the carriage arrived, and the driver announced as usual. He was a middle-aged man with a simple smile on his face. He pulled the carriage, quietly waiting for the guests to board.

Vikson smiled and said, "I know the rules. Here, take it!" With that, Vikson handed a few copper coins to the coachman. His gesture was very generous, as if these few copper coins were nothing at all.

"Alright! I'll help you move your things." The coachman grinned and quickly joined the servants in helping to move the goods. They loaded the merchants and their luggage onto the carriage one by one, their movements skilled and swift.

Vikson was the first to be taken away by carriage, leaving behind a group of bewildered merchants. They watched Vikson's departing figure, their hearts filled with doubt and confusion. What was going on? Why was Vikson in such a hurry to leave by carriage?

Cliff's smile widened at the sight. He called out to the crowd, "Gentlemen, these carriages belong to the Lord of Winterfell. A ride into the city costs only a few copper coins, saving you a lot of effort. We learned this from a letter sent to us by Lady Faracia. The Lord of Winterfell specially arranged these carriages to facilitate merchants and travelers entering the city, and the price is very reasonable. Alright, without further ado, everyone, see you in the city!"

With that, Cliff waved for a carriage, then rode off, leaving dozens of bewildered merchants of all sizes behind. Watching Cliff's departing figure, they suddenly realized, "So that's how you get into town by carriage!"

However, with Vikson and Cliff setting an example, the remaining merchants followed suit and soon all boarded the carriages. They lined up and climbed in turn, their faces filled with anticipation and excitement, as if they were about to embark on a wondrous journey.

"Tch, just a clever trick!" Ger scoffed, looking around at the docks and frowning. "It's far inferior to the capital. This place is dilapidated and old, covered in dust and dirt. It has none of the prosperity and comfort of the capital."

The coachman was a little displeased upon hearing this. What? They actually look down on Winterfell? Don't be so surprised when we get inside! This is just a newly built dock outside the city, not inside. Winterfell's interior is incredibly prosperous and beautiful, with many skyscrapers, shops, restaurants, and various entertainment facilities—it's in no way inferior to the capital.

"Clatter, clatter, clatter..." The carriage slowly entered the city. All the merchants who had previously looked down on them, as well as those who had been grumbling about how Vickson and Cliff had deceived them, were now completely stunned, their mouths agape, unable to close them for a long time. It was as if they had entered a completely new world, the sight before them overwhelming.

As the carriage entered the towering, smooth walls built of bluish-gray concrete, a wide, flat, and clean road came into view. This road, like a black ribbon, stretched straight into the distance. Neatly planted trees lined both sides of the road, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze, as if welcoming their arrival.

"Even the capital city can't compare to this road," the merchants couldn't help but exclaim. They had never seen such a wide, flat, and clean road. In the capital, the roads were always narrow and crowded, littered with garbage and sewage, and emitting an unpleasant stench.

Solo stared at the scene before him, speechless. It wasn't just inferior; it was utterly incomparable. The main street of the capital was perhaps less than half the width of this road. Moreover, the roadsides of the capital were chaotic, filled with vendors and beggars, creating a disorganized atmosphere. In contrast, the streets of Winter City were lined with neat rows of houses, exuding an air of cleanliness. Each house was unique in design and style—some were rustic Chinese architecture, others ornate European buildings—making one feel as if they were in an architectural museum.

What impressed Solo most was the cleanliness. There was no garbage or excrement, and the air didn't have that nauseating, sour smell. No, there was still a sour smell in the air, but that was coming from their bodies. Solo suddenly realized that even the coachman smelled better than him. He subconsciously sniffed his own clothes, and a pungent stench of sweat hit him. It turned out that they had been on the ship for several days without bathing, and their bodies had become filthy, emitting an unpleasant odor.

It's only been three days since he last showered. He used to go one or two months without showering, and Solo never thought anything of it. In the capital, many people don't pay attention to personal hygiene and only shower once in a long while; it's a common phenomenon. But for some reason, he felt embarrassed now! Especially after seeing the coachman rubbing his nose every now and then, Solo wanted to take a shower right now and change into clean clothes.

"Hey, you there squatting in the corner taking a dump, didn't your family teach you not to poop or pee anywhere?" Suddenly, someone shouted, causing Solo to instinctively turn his head. He saw a well-dressed, overweight man—one of his business associates—squatting in a corner by the roadside. Solo knew exactly what he was doing: taking a dump.

In the capital, such things are all too common. When you urgently need to relieve yourself, you just find a corner to do it; it's perfectly normal to everyone, right? So why was that old commoner so indignant, as if the merchant had done something that would incur divine wrath?

"Hey! I'm talking to you! Didn't your family teach you? Only dogs poop and pee anywhere." The old man was really angry now. He put his hands on his hips and angrily berated the merchant. The city lord manages Winterfell so well; we can't let some people ruin it. He patrols the city every day, supervising everyone to observe public order and maintain the city's cleanliness and hygiene.

"This...aren't we all..." The merchant squatted there, eyes wide, mouth agape, looking utterly bewildered and at a loss. He never imagined that taking a dump in this remote border town would cause such a huge problem.

What's going on? He always did this in the capital and no one bothered him. Why can't he even take a dump here? He was filled with doubt and resentment, feeling as if he had done something very wrong.

Several merchants and servants who were about to defecate froze, wondering if they were going to die from holding it in. They had originally intended to find a corner to relieve themselves, just like the merchant had. But now, seeing what had happened to him, they dared not make a move and could only suppress their urge, their faces showing pain.

"What do you mean 'everyone'? Only you are!" the old man roared. He couldn't tolerate people defecating and urinating anywhere before, since everyone was young and immature, and he himself had done such things. But now that there were public toilets, this was intolerable. The city lord had specially built many public toilets throughout the city to solve the problem, and had even put up signs to help people find them. But this merchant ignored them and continued to defecate anywhere; this was utterly disrespectful to the city lord and a destruction of the city's civility.

"You..." The merchant's face flushed red. Anyone would feel embarrassed to be stared at while defecating, let alone be caught red-handed and confronted. He felt his dignity had been greatly insulted, and his heart was filled with anger and resentment.

"What do you mean, 'you'? Didn't you see that sign?" The old man pointed at a wooden sign by the roadside, spitting as he shouted, "Can't you read? It clearly says on it, 'No pooping or peeing anywhere. If you need to relieve yourself, go to the public toilet.' It even points you in the right direction. And you still poop here? Are you a dog?"

Illiterate? No, everyone here is literate. You can't be a merchant if you're illiterate. They frequently need to sign contracts and review accounts, so literacy is an essential skill.

"This..." The merchant turned his head and looked. The wooden sign seemed to say something like this, with an arrow indicating direction. He followed the arrow and saw a small house with a man and a woman drawn on the wall, and below them was a pile of excrement—the sign couldn't be clearer. He inwardly groaned. He hadn't expected this remote border town to be so focused on public hygiene; he had inadvertently made a mistake. He was filled with regret; he should have observed the surroundings and learned about the local customs first.

159. What I Saw and Heard

"Is that house used for defecating and urinating?"

The businessman asked in a hoarse voice, his tone tinged with disbelief and embarrassment.

His cheeks flushed slightly, and for some reason, he felt extremely ashamed of himself at that moment.

He had traveled to various places doing business and had seen a lot of the world, but this building specifically for using the toilet really shocked him.

"Otherwise what? That's called a public toilet, it's made for people like you."

The old man said with a look of disgust, raising his chin slightly, his eyes full of incomprehension and disdain for the merchant.

He is a staunch supporter of Winterfell and highly admires Lord Link's various ideals.

Take this small toilet, for example. In his eyes, it is a great innovation that can change the face of the entire city.

The old man spoke at length: "Think about it, what was our Winterhold City like before? Everywhere in the streets and alleys, there were traces of people urinating and defecating indiscriminately. The smell was enough to make anyone faint. Moreover, the filthy environment easily breeds all sorts of germs. What were we most afraid of? Undoubtedly, it was the dreaded infectious diseases, like the Black Death or the plague. Once they broke out, it was a truly catastrophic disaster! If people were hungry, they could find food or work hard to earn some money to buy food. But once an infectious disease broke out, it meant one death for an entire village, one death for an entire city. The whole city could become a ghost town—it was terrifying!"

He paused, then continued, "So how do we prevent the spread of infectious diseases? The first step, of course, is to maintain good hygiene. The city lord has ordered a city-wide cleanup, strictly prohibiting urination and defecation in public places, and forbidding the dumping of garbage and excrement into water sources. Moreover, it is stipulated that everyone must take a bath at least after a day's work. Therefore, public toilets and public bathhouses have been built. These public toilets are to ensure that everyone goes to a designated place to relieve themselves, keeping the streets clean and tidy; and the public bathhouses are to allow everyone to wash away the day's fatigue and grime, and feel comfortable."

At first, many civilians did not understand Link's actions, and they felt that it was really unnecessary.

“That’s how our ancestors have always lived, right? There’s no need for so many rules,” someone complained.

Some even thought that the city lord was deliberately making things difficult for everyone.

However, after a few days of implementation, the situation changed dramatically.

People have noticed that the streets have become clean and tidy, and the pungent stench of the past is gone. They no longer have to worry about accidentally stepping in feces or urine while walking on the street.

Moreover, taking a shower every day leaves me feeling refreshed, and I sleep much better at night.

Gradually, no one complained anymore. Everyone consciously went to the public toilets to relieve themselves, and in the evening they either took a shower at home or went to the public bathhouse.

Who doesn't want their place to be clean and tidy?

In the summer, there were no more flies swarming around, nor was there that nauseating sour smell, and the quality of life improved significantly.

"Alright, you need to clean up your shit and throw it in the toilet," the old man glared at the merchant and said loudly. "And pay the fine too; defecating anywhere is a ten-copper-coin penalty."

"Huh? We have to fine them copper coins?" The merchant was dumbfounded. His eyes widened in disbelief.

He thought he would just get a lecture and that would be the end of it, but he didn't expect to be fined.

"Of course, no one is allowed to litter in public places, let alone something as disgusting as defecating. This is a rule set by the city lord, and no one can violate it." The old man puffed out his beard and glared, as if to say, "If you don't pay, I'll make your life miserable."

"Alright, alright, I'll pay!" the merchant shouted awkwardly. Ten copper coins were nothing to him; he just wanted to get this over with quickly so he wouldn't be laughed at again.

"This..." At this moment, several other businessmen who were holding it in and in a hurry to relieve themselves heard their conversation and quickly ran towards the public toilet.

There was a middle-aged woman guarding the entrance to the public restroom.