CHAPTER 99: CHAPTER 99: SALT MAKING_1

"My Lord, here is your breakfast for today." Susan presented Lance with a sumptuous breakfast: tender, sweet white bread exuding a milky fragrance, three boiled eggs, and a cup of milk. This meal alone was worth what an ordinary person earned in an entire day.

Ever since his strength had increased, his appetite had grown considerably. This small amount was merely an appetizer to him.

And today, Lance’s mood was noticeably good, as he had indulged in the rare luxury of a full eight hours of sleep the night before.

"If you have something to say, go ahead."

Susan knew he disliked being watched while eating. People should either join him at the table or leave. Standing aside usually meant there was something to discuss.

"Barton is waiting at the door; he wishes to see you, my Lord."

This is the first time he has taken the initiative to seek me out. Lance understood the decision Barton had made.

"When did he arrive?"

"This morning, but I did not wake you, my Lord."

"Then let him wait. Don’t bother with him," Lance said, waving Susan away dismissively.

He was curious to see how long the captain could hold out. If Barton gives up halfway, it will prove he’s not up to the task. Only those who have truly stared death in the face and are prepared to fight for their lives can withstand the monsters that lie ahead.

"Have someone go to the farm to notify Walter. Tell him to get the farm report ready and bring the account books to me for a briefing."

"Yes, my Lord."

Susan didn’t bring up Barton again, knowing the Lord would have his own considerations.

Work still needed to be done, and Lance found himself contemplating the town’s development even while eating breakfast.

Now that the bandits occupying the old road had been eradicated, the long-dormant channels for external communication were also reopened.

Honestly, he was reluctant to open it. With such a ticking time bomb beneath him, more people meant a higher chance of trouble. But sealing it off wasn’t an option—how else would they make money?

For the estate to develop healthily and sustainably, interaction with the outside world was imperative. Lance needed to access external resources and information. Furthermore, the estate’s products, like wool and hemp cloth, had to be sold to fund its operations.

The estate currently appeared to be thriving, but in reality, it was all being propped up by his constant infusion of money. He was losing a significant sum daily because these public works projects yielded no returns—or at least, no short-term ones. If the estate didn’t establish a stable income, all his money would eventually be depleted. Finding a sustainable path for the estate was essential.

With these thoughts in mind, Lance quickly finished his breakfast and then hurriedly left for an inspection by the seaside.

On the beach, squared-off plots of land had been marked out, and he could see people moving about on them.

He was creating the estate’s first signature product—salt fields.

The saying goes, "Draw sustenance from the mountains if you live near them, and from the sea if you live near it." Hamlet, being coastal, couldn’t afford to neglect this most straightforward channel for resources.

Much like fishing, salt fields required no significant investment in resources, nor did they present major technical barriers. A little labor was all it took to continuously produce pure salt.

As for the salt-making process, he had his early compulsory education in chemistry to thank. Additionally, he’d read enough novels where protagonists dabbled in salt production to remember the general procedure. Otherwise, he truly would have been like someone entering a treasure trove only to leave empty-handed.

Simply put, the salt field evaporation process utilized the differing solubilities of substances in seawater. As the water evaporated, relatively pure salt would crystallize out first as sodium chloride reached its saturation point.

They needed to collect a small amount of salt as the crystals began to form. This initial salt, mixed with distilled water, created a saturated sodium chloride solution. Subsequent batches of coarse salt were then washed in this solution. Because it was a saturated solution, the sodium chloride in the crude salt wouldn’t dissolve further; only the impurities would. After washing, the remaining crystals were of purer salt. Once a sufficient quantity of high-purity salt was obtained, they could scale up the production of saturated solutions. Repeating these steps would yield a continuous supply of high-purity salt.

To improve efficiency, he was now employing the salt boiling method. While other resources were scarce, cleared wood waste from various projects was abundant. What he truly lacked was time...

Moreover, the hut built for boiling salt, with its fires constantly burning for long periods, could also be used for smoking fish and meat.

Salt was always an essential commodity. Furthermore, it could be used to preserve food, such as extending the shelf life of caught fish. In this era, salt and meat were scarce resources, so there were no concerns about sales.

"Greetings, my Lord!"

The salt-boiling workshop was rudimentary. The heat from several large, boiling cauldrons inside was intense, so the workers toiled bare-chested, stirring the cauldrons and periodically adding seawater.

Lance had redesigned the flues of the stoves to vent into a thatched hut behind it. This hut was filled with various kinds of smoked fish hanging from the rafters.

"My Lord!"

"How are things?"

"All normal, my Lord."

"Accelerate production over the next few days," Lance instructed. "I need more salt."

"’Yes, my Lord!’" The workers, seeing their Lord inspecting, redoubled their efforts.

Lance then inspected the textile mill and the blacksmith’s shop.

In this world, the existence of Supernatural Power meant that religious institutions held significant sway. While some technological advancements had been made, progress was severely stifled, and steam engines had yet to appear. The cities he remembered naturally lacked steam-powered spinning machines. Manual workshops remained the most common, their efficiency entirely dependent on human labor.

This situation was actually more beneficial to Lance. If others were already advancing technologically, leaving him with no advantage, the value of his territory’s resources would be greatly diminished.

The blacksmith’s shop no longer lacked Iron Ingots; the confiscated scrap metal would last a long time. However, its efficiency was deeply unsatisfactory. To give a simple example, the armor Reynard wore, which had been pierced by the alpha wolf, still hadn’t been repaired.

Normally, one or two blacksmiths would suffice for a town of a thousand people, as there usually weren’t that many orders. However, Lance needed a large quantity of armor and weapons for his rapidly expanding forces. Entrusting this task to just one skilled blacksmith and an apprentice was indeed unreasonable, but under the current circumstances, they had to make do.

To formulate a sound development plan, Lance remained active. He busied himself visiting various parts of Hamlet, even venturing into the outlying fields and down to the docks, conversing with fishermen, farmers, and workers.

Until Susan came to call him back.

"My Lord, Walter has arrived."

Lance glanced at the time. It took Walter half a day to arrive. Could there be a problem at the farm?

"Let’s go back," Lance said, turning to leave.

Lance was known for his swift and decisive actions. He returned to his residence without further delay.

The situation at the farm was different now. He had soldiers and cannons at his command. More importantly, he was no longer the man whose arrows went astray. If those troublemakers dared to cause problems, he alone could fight his way through the entire farm. As his strength increased, so did his confidence.