More importantly, the daily work at the trading estate was assigned based on each person's physical ability. From the very first day, there was no forced labor, no beatings, and no killings. This shocked the refugees who had been prepared to die, and they were deeply grateful.
As news spread, more and more refugees came. Those who were taken in looked at Damon and Elara with awe and gratitude. In this era, just staying alive was already a luxury.
To live like a human being after losing their homes and fleeing for their lives was something most people didn't even dare to dream about. Yet after they sold themselves, they were given something that far exceeded their expectations. How could they not feel awe and gratitude?
In this era, the lowest form of contract was a slave contract. A slightly better one was a craftsman contract.
Then came the civilian contract, and the highest was the scholar contract. Craftsman contracts were for those who had a skill and could be officially recognized for it.
Children of those who signed craftsman contracts would not automatically become slaves. If they inherited the craft, they could sign a craftsman contract at age twelve.
The biggest difference between slave contracts and craftsman contracts was that the owner had to provide basic food and shelter and could not beat or kill the craftsman at will. They also had to pay them a small monthly wage, just enough to support their families.
Even so, craftsman contracts were still half-slavery. The owner could still sell them if they wished or if the craftsman made them unhappy.
"If skilled people can sign a craftsman contract, more craftsmen who are drifting and fleeing might be willing to come," Damon said while staring at Elara's faint figure behind the curtain.
Elara nodded. Though she disliked the concept of slavery, it was still a part of this era. Until they were fully prepared, it couldn't be changed easily. As for Damon's idea of the craftsman contract, she naturally agreed.
"Yes." After looking at some ancient and plain handicrafts, Elara turned to Damon and said, "Later, bring me some bamboo slips. I'll draw a few new design samples. No matter if they are stonemasons, carpenters, or embroidery workers, give them the designs and let them try to make them. If they succeed, great. If not, it's fine. But have them come up with different styles. If someone manages to create a good new design, reward them. Encourage them to innovate. Don't let them stick to the same old things."
If the skills weren't good enough, art could help make up for it.
Especially for things like hairpins and necklaces. As long as the designs were pretty and new, there would always be rich buyers.
After hearing this, Damon's eyes lit up a little more.
"Yes." She always seemed to have endless ideas. Like the day she saved him under the city wall, or how she built this estate and turned dying refugees into a fresh new force.
Elara didn't notice Damon's gaze and continued observing the estate's activities.
Besides the craftsmen and laborers, the scholars that Damon had separated early on now had their own roles. Some held brushes and bamboo slips, recording the production details of each craft.
Some planned and organized the estate's items and recorded where everything was stored. Some stood at the gate with the estate's literate old servants, checking the identities of refugees and speeding up the recruitment process.
"Among these people, only two have taken the county exam, but they both failed. The rest just know how to read and write," Damon said.
He watched these scholars working hard but didn't seem very pleased. His expression showed a hint of dislike.
Elara looked at him and asked, "But what?"
Damon pressed his lips together before replying, "Since they arrived, they've acted superior just because they've read a few books. The two who took the county exam came to me on the first day after you left and demanded scholar contracts. They said they wouldn't work without one. Hah. But I'm not as kind as you, Miss. I threw them and the ones who sided with them into an empty room and left them hungry for two days. I only let them out this morning. They've calmed down now."
Kind and soft-hearted? Even in her past life, Elara had never been called that. In this life, she'd only been labeled things like "pervert," "madwoman," and "evil." Damon… Elara couldn't help but glance back at him again. He looked so serious, as if he truly believed she was gentle and kind-hearted. His words even seemed a bit hesitant, like he feared she would be upset at him for punishing the scholars.
Elara couldn't help but smile. She raised her hand and patted his shoulder.
"Well done. Once someone joins the estate, they must follow its rules. If they don't, it doesn't matter who they are. They must be punished."
Just two men who hadn't even passed the county exam dared to act arrogant?
In her past life, Elara had experts and doctors under her in every field. None of them dared to bargain with her over their talent.
Of course, if someone had real talent, she would treat them well. A leader should always reward those who contributed. That was basic leadership.
Elara never believed in burning out her resources. That was a waste and a dead end.
Still, the mention of the "county exam" made her curious.
In this world, even the feudal system hadn't fully formed yet. How could an exam system that belonged to a later era already exist?
Unfortunately, she had limited information. Using the intelligence network to ask about such things would be a waste and might expose her "ignorance," damaging her cover as the Third Miss. So Elara decided to hold back for now and investigate it later when she had the right resources.
After inspecting the general situation of the estate, Elara continued walking toward the back courtyard.
Damon, who had just been comforted by a pat on the shoulder, felt the warmth again. His worried expression disappeared, and he smiled as he continued guiding Elara through the estate.
But just as they passed the front courtyard and rounded a corner, Damon's expression suddenly changed. He instinctively turned to Elara.
She had also stopped walking. Her eyes were fixed on a huge tree not far away, thick enough for three people to wrap their arms around.
There were more than ten people, their bodies bloodstained and covered in wounds, swaying from the largest branch of the tree. From a distance, it looked eerie and horrifying, like a haunted tree covered in corpses.
Damon carefully peeked at the girl beside him, who was hidden behind the curtain. His expression, which had just calmed down, turned stiff again.
"These... are people who tried to cheat, deceive, or act two-faced. To warn others who might think of doing the same, I had them whipped and hung here as an example..." As he spoke, he quickly added, "But don't worry, they're not dead..."
Damon's voice grew smaller and smaller. Regret began to fill his heart. He had been so busy these past few days that he forgot these people were still hanging here. He hadn't expected her to come and see them directly like this.
Even though she had just said that those who broke the rules of the merchant manor should be punished... this kind of bloody and terrifying sight wasn't something Damon wanted her to see. The rules written when the manor was first set up didn't include this kind of harsh punishment. It was just that he couldn't bear those animals, so he had them beaten and strung up in secret.
Would she think it was too cruel? Would she think he was also a violent and harsh person in private?
Right now, Damon had already forgotten that the girl in front of him, though honored as a noble princess, had a reputation known for brutality. What he did wasn't even one-tenth of what she had done in the past. He also forgot that when she had rescued him, this same girl had whipped a group of people and hung them on the city walls. Though those people were also beasts, the scene was just as cruel.
But unfortunately, Damon had missed those years when Elara had gone mad. Now that she had saved him and stayed with him these past days, he no longer believed the outside rumors. He only trusted what he had seen and heard for himself. In his heart, Elara was already the opposite of what the public said. That was why he was now even worried she would be scared by this scene, or think he was secretly a cruel person, and then distance herself from him.
"I see..."
Hearing the girl's calm and careless tone, Damon's lowered hand clenched slightly tighter. His mind started spinning fast, trying to find something else to say to fix the situation. But the girl had already walked under the swaying figures and looked up at them for a while. Then she turned to him and said:
"If it's for warning people, why not just hang them at the front gate? That would be even more effective."
Sometimes, punishments that looked cruel were actually more direct and effective. Elara had always preferred high efficiency. As long as it didn't cross the line or harm the innocent, she didn't mind.
Damon hadn't expected that kind of answer. He froze for a moment and looked at the graceful figure turning to face him. Her expression was completely normal. There was no fear or disgust in her voice either. His tense heart finally relaxed, and the corners of his lips lifted slightly under his beard.
"Yes, understood."
She hadn't drawn back. She hadn't shown any disapproval of what he did. Damon slowly loosened his clenched fingers and let out a long sigh of relief.
As for all the worry he just had, and how calm she had been...
Did it really matter?
As long as her opinion of him didn't change. As long as she didn't become distant or cold because of this. Then everything was fine. He could only feel grateful and happy.