Now Pete walked down the street, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by crowds and followed by their gaze.
This feeling was wonderful.
He was no longer a humble adjutant; he had beco the backbone of these thousands of people, their guardian in their eyes.
This sense of accomplishnt made him feel that all the cold he had endured and all the nights he had stayed awake were worth it.
The more he enjoyed this honor, the deeper his gratitude grew towards that person.
Pete instinctively looked at the distant red flag fluttering in the air and took a deep breath in his heart.
"Without Lord Louis, I am nothing."
It was Lord Louis who gave him this uniform, these resources, and more importantly, the Red Tide thod that could change the world.
He had rely followed the blueprint drawn by Lord Louis to construct such a miraculous town.
All the prestige he possessed was but a reflection of the brilliance of the Red Tide.
"May the Sun always shine upon you, my Lord."
Pete silently prayed in his heart, straightened his back, and walked more confidently towards the end of the street.
There, the dical officer stationed by the Red Tide was posting the winter health report.
Death toll: six people.
Pete stopped and his gaze lingered on that number for a long ti.
Those unfamiliar might think it was just a cold statistic, but for those who had lived in the Northern Territory for over a decade, this number was practically a miracle.
In past winters, this number was usually no less than two hundred, sotis even more.
Whenever blizzards blocked the roads, Cold Sand Territory beca an isolated island, where the elderly would quietly pass away on cold kang beds, miners succumbed to coughing disease in the dead of night, and children who couldn’t afford dicine died of fever. Back then, the end of winter often ca with the thriving business of the coffin shops, the funeral processions stretching from the street to the alley.
But this year, only six.
And Pete knew well who these six were, three were elderly, and the rest were already terminally ill.
Not one died from the cold, not one from hunger, and not one was left to freeze because they couldn’t afford treatnt.
All this was thanks to that dical station at the street corner, adorned with the Red Cross and Sun flags.
The doctors sent by the Red Tide charged no consultation fees, and that bitter dicine was forced into the mouths of every frail lord’s subject daily.
"Lord Louis said human life is more precious than gold in the lands of the Red Tide."
This, the Red Tide achieved.
"Mom, look! I have a Sun!" A crisp child’s voice broke the people’s reverie.
A group of children wore ill-fitting thick cotton coats, holding small wooden windmills painted with the Sun’s emblem on their blades.
They weaved through the crowd, singing a short song composed by the bard from the relief team: "The red flag rises, ice lts away, the Lord’s grace is like a spring breeze passing through..."
Their cheeks were rosy, no longer a frostbitten bluish purple from the harsh cold.
The adults watched these children, their gazes becoming distinctly gentle.
On both sides of the street, torches soaked in pine resin and banners bearing the emblem of the Red Tide swayed in the breeze.
This was more than just a festive decoration; it was a complete allegiance.
Every person here, from the badge-bearing baker to the grateful miners, to Pete’s upright silhouette, they all beca the steadiest cornerstone of the Red Tide order in this market full of red elents.
The wind was still cold, and life was not yet affluent, but as long as they saw the omnipresent emblem of the Red Tide Sun, people’s hearts were ward.
Because they knew that as long as the red flag still flew, the harsh winter of Cold Sand Territory was already over.
User Comments
0 comments from readers