After Felix left, his workload was temporarily transferred to Wei Wei. Fortunately, by this time, many people had come to pledge allegiance in Sardinson County. Inside the manor, stewards and servants helped out, while outside, newly joined talents provided support. Wei Wei only needed to oversee the big picture and make decisions on matters that couldn't be handled by her subordinates. Her daily tasks included reviewing documents, signing off, and occasionally summoning stewards for meetings or quick discussions. The actual operations were handled by others, making her feel more like a CEO presiding over a large company.
She had done most of these things before. The only difference now was that communication with the staff, which used to be handled by Felix, had fallen to her. Other than that, it wasn't much different.
However, beyond document approval, what drained her energy was the upcoming autumn harvest and the civil service exam originally scheduled for September.
It was impossible to handle everything alone. The harvest was still manageable—most of the labor fell to the residents and tax-collecting stewards. Wei Wei didn't have to get involved in the physical work. But the civil service exam was a different matter. Though she and Felix had already settled the format and content, the selection of candidates was something Felix usually oversaw. Without him there, she didn't feel comfortable moving forward. So Wei Wei issued another announcement, postponing the exam to October, waiting for Felix's return.
Not everyone was happy with the delay—especially those who had traveled from afar to take the exam. Postponing it meant they had to stay in the county longer. And recently, prices in Sardinson had risen, especially rent. Even staying in a guesthouse cost quite a bit, and accommodation was scarce. Many couldn't stay in Dingle and had to settle in smaller villages instead. Though conditions were worse, villages were cheaper, making them a practical choice for those with limited means.
But for every person who complained, there were more who breathed a sigh of relief. It was the classic "Oh, more time to slack off—no, I mean prepare" feeling, similar to when students find out an exam is postponed at the last minute.
Especially since the new announcement detailed the exam procedures and areas of focus, which gave people clearer direction on how to prepare.
Once the harvest began—buoyed by the success of the wheat season—everyone worked with great enthusiasm. All factories were temporarily shut down to let workers return home and help. Even young children participated, whether by picking up leftover grains from the fields or guarding the drying harvest from birds. Older kids took care of cooking, house chores, and livestock. Every member of every household, young and old, was busy from morning till night.
It was hard work, but everyone was genuinely happy. No matter how exhausted they were, they could fall asleep with smiles on their faces, knowing the harvest was better than ever.
"Back then, the harvest season was bittersweet—glad our hard work paid off, but worried the yield wouldn't feed the whole family. Now I'm just happy. Even after taxes, we've got enough to last us until the year after next."
"Exactly. We used to scrape by every day, barely daring to eat an extra bite in case we ran out in winter. Now, we've got a surplus! I plan to sell some and buy winter clothes for the kids and the elderly. Maybe even stock up on firewood. No fear of the cold this year."
"Right, I plan to sell too. The castles posted a notice—they're buying grain at prices higher than the usual merchants. It'd be a shame not to sell."
In previous years, famine made the locals reluctant to sell any surplus. They'd suffered too much to let go of the grain, choosing to hoard it instead. Only those who needed cash would consider selling.
But the price the castle offered was quite fair—though 20% below market rate, it was still better than what grain traders used to offer. Even those who had planned to hoard their harvests were tempted.
What made it easier to part with their grain was the knowledge that the castle's purchases were meant to feed the very people serving the Count—including themselves. Many locals were now working under the Count's employ, and everyone was assured at least one castle-provided meal per day. Selling grain felt more like setting aside food for their future selves.
And that sentiment was contagious. Those who sold grain chatted with others, spreading the idea. Eventually, even the hesitant ones began hauling excess grain to the castle.
When the castle finally acquired enough grain, they stopped buying. Other merchants had followed the castle's lead by raising their prices, but once the castle withdrew from the market, they dropped prices again—this time even lower than in previous years. Those who'd been waiting for prices to rise ended up losing out. They were forced to either accept the new lower prices or hoard the grain themselves. But they had far too much to finish before the next year, and keeping it too long would turn it stale, occupying space meant for next season's harvest.
Having suffered once, those folks learned their lesson. The next time the castle announced it was buying, everyone rushed to sell. They used the money to buy goods for their families, increasing merchant activity, spurring the local economy, and allowing the castle to collect more taxes—partially recovering the cost of buying the grain. It became a self-sustaining cycle of prosperity.
During this hectic season, Wei Wei was so swamped with responsibilities both inside and outside the castle that her feet barely touched the ground. Meals were often skipped, leisurely afternoon teas had been entirely canceled, and even her daily walk—something she had insisted on keeping—was now done while listening to reports from others. She hardly had a moment for herself.
It wasn't until Penny hesitantly asked whether she was feeling unwell that Wei Wei suddenly realized—that her monthly cycle hadn't come.
Of all her maids, Penny was the only one not tasked with other jobs. Her sole duty was to take care of Wei Wei, and she was also the one responsible for preparing menstrual supplies. As usual, she had everything ready this month, but Wei Wei never needed them. Concerned, she finally brought it up.
Even though she was a young, unmarried girl, Penny had been a maid in the castle long enough to hear the housekeeper's chatter and know full well what a missed period might imply.
Wei Wei was exceptionally healthy, and her cycle had always been precise. Ever since arriving in this medieval world, she had never once missed or had an irregular period. Now, her period was already a week late, and her body showed none of the usual signs that it was coming. Judging by her health, she had to consider the possibility—she might be pregnant.
And most likely, the result of those few fervent days before Felix left.
She immediately checked her pulse but, unfortunately, it was too early to detect anything for certain.
Still, that didn't stop her from beginning to make preparations.
"Don't tell anyone about this for now," she instructed Penny.
"I'll keep it a secret, Madam," Penny replied, eyes shining with anticipation.
Penny had changed a lot from the gossip-loving girl she used to be. She still liked juicy tidbits, but when it came to her mistress's privacy, a word from Wei Wei was enough to ensure absolute silence. Now, she looked at Wei Wei's flat stomach with a hopeful gaze, as if she could already see a tiny life growing there—one that would bring joy and new beginnings to the castle.
Though it wasn't confirmed yet, Wei Wei still began making changes in her lifestyle and diet, incorporating healthier routines and meals. Her schedule was adjusted to be more balanced, and she became strict with herself about going to bed early and waking up early. No more staying up late.
No one else noticed the difference. They had no idea that their lady's meals were subtly adjusted to support a pregnancy—they just thought her tastes had changed. Her preference for light, nourishing soups even inspired some others in the castle to imitate her. After a few days of this diet, she did appear more radiant, after all.
When Wei Wei first transmigrated, her character in the game was a young female physician—just sixteen years old, youthful, and delicate. After a year in Sardinson, she had grown taller and more filled out. Though she wasn't as voluptuous as the average European woman, she had curves in all the right places. Her figure was now graceful and captivating, and any slightly form-fitting outfit could accentuate her charm.
Her face, however, had remained mostly unchanged—youthful and exquisite, always making her look younger than she was. But now, when she smiled, there was a blend of elegance, poise, and gentle warmth in her expression. It shouldn't have suited her youthful features, but somehow it did—perfectly.
People had always said their lady was beautiful, though tastes varied. But after seeing Wei Wei in a snow-white wedding gown, fan in hand, speaking and laughing with elegance, the consensus shifted—she was the most beautiful woman in Pradi.
Even Queen Mirabelle, long proud of her beauty, had to begrudgingly admit it. And that only made her more jealous.
After witnessing Wei Wei in full wedding splendor, all the queen's earlier goodwill vanished. Always spoiled and temperamental, the queen had been indulged by her royal father since birth and rarely suffered setbacks—except for the brief period after her first husband's death. She had never learned to restrain her temper, and her increasingly volatile behavior had become the subject of many whispers among the nobility.
She was the kind of woman who only had her looks to rely on—not someone anyone would recommend getting close to. Countess Nelson had warned Wei Wei more than once about this, and time had proven her right.
Though Wei Wei's birthday gift had briefly won the queen's favor, her subsequent rise to fame quickly erased that goodwill, replacing it with jealousy and a sense of being threatened.
At first, when Wei Wei left the capital, Queen Mirabelle had been somewhat relieved. She basked in the king's renewed affection and enjoyed being flattered wherever she went, regaining the respect due to a queen.
But that didn't last.
The king's fondness—based on her looks—faded quickly, just as it had in the past. And it dwindled further once cosmetics from Sardinson began circulating in the capital.
Like most nobles, the King of Pradi was not known for loyalty. If he had started an affair with his sister-in-law while the previous queen lay gravely ill, then it was no surprise he would seek out new lovers once the spark faded. During the years when Mirabelle was out of favor, the king had no fewer than three mistresses. Even after her return to favor, they didn't disappear—just became more discreet.
Now, those mistresses were back, faces even more radiant thanks to Sardinson's cosmetics, dressed in the latest fashions, and competing to win the king over again.
Mirabelle couldn't stand to lose favor again. She pulled out all the stops to fight off her rivals, but her resentment toward Wei Wei only deepened. It even surpassed her long-standing animosity with Countess Nelson.
By extension, her anger extended to Felix, Wei Wei's husband.
Fortunately, Felix had come to the capital this time for an audience with the king and to investigate the kidnapping case. His schedule was packed, and aside from a few unavoidable social events, he declined most banquets. The queen only appeared at royal events or those personally hosted by the king, and during this season, there were few such occasions. With Wei Wei absent, she didn't even have the chance to make things difficult for her, and could only fume in private. Outwardly, due to the king's high regard for Felix, she had to act cordial.
It was almost unbearable for her. In private, she broke many things and punished countless servants to vent her anger.
Felix noticed that the queen's gaze carried a new hostility—not the flirtatious kind from before, but a much deeper animosity. She probably thought she hid it well, but to a battle-hardened knight, it was as obvious as candlelight in the sun.
Still, it didn't affect him much. His audience with the king went smoother than ever. Perhaps it was the sugar-refining formula he had gifted before, but the king treated him warmly—almost like a favored nephew. He even invited Felix to stay in the royal palace, a rare honor among nobles.
Naturally, Felix declined, citing private matters and revealing—just between them—that he was still investigating the kidnapping and had made progress.
The king didn't insist, but instead asked about his married life.
"We're doing very well," Felix smiled, genuinely this time. "She's the best wife I could've asked for."
His gifts were also well received. Aside from corn, potatoes, and sweet potatoes, he had brought expensive luxury items from traders. The most special of all was an oil painting.
Oil painting had emerged in the 15th century, replacing tempera as the dominant European art form. But in the 13th century—this story's current setting—not even tempera was widely used yet, let alone oil paint.
Wei Wei, having studied art, had dabbled in oil painting. Though it didn't yet exist in this world, pigments were plentiful. When she made eyeshadow, she had also acquired many colors, and on a whim, painted a landscape of Sardinson Castle. The realistic style and vibrant colors were refreshing to the locals.
After seeing it, Felix—half-jokingly—asked her to paint a portrait of the two of them. Wei Wei agreed, intending it as a sort of wedding portrait. But with so much going on, the half-finished, half-human-sized painting still sat in the studio, waiting to be completed.
That didn't stop Felix from hiring a painter to create a portrait of the king using the same materials.
The artist wasn't a master, and the work barely passed professional standards—but to those unfamiliar with oil painting, it was striking.
The king was very pleased, especially since the painting depicted him as younger and more majestic. He eagerly had it hung behind his throne.
Even so, he didn't overlook the less flashy gifts.
"These are crops my wife brought from the Silk Country. They taste great and yield well. Perhaps they'll surprise you come autumn," Felix explained.
The gifts included dried sweet potatoes and glass noodles—both popular, easy-to-love foods. The king was delighted and said he would try planting them next year.
Felix heard him instruct the stewards to store the seeds for spring and understood the king saw them more as exotic novelties than practical crops. Still, planted in the royal garden, they'd get enough care to thrive.
In return, the generous king rewarded Felix with silver and gold and then shared some news.
"You know our neighboring countries are always at war. One of them finally collapsed. Its land was carved up, and refugees were pouring into Pradi. If you want them, take as many as you like."
Back then, Europeans had little concept of "nation." Most only knew their lords. Borders shifted constantly due to noble feuds, and peasants rarely cared who ruled—just whether taxes rose or if they'd be drafted.
When lords were bad enough, many fled. Serfs couldn't, but free people could—and did, especially when war broke out. Now, many refugees are gathering at Pradi's borders. They weren't being welcomed by local nobles; many were driven off or enslaved.
The refugees posed a growing threat to nearby towns. The king worried they'd turn to banditry, so when Felix arrived, he thought of the man who had once taken in the capital's poor and bought up slaves—surely, he'd be willing to take in some refugees.
And the more, the better.