Obtaining the king's permission was indeed as simple as Felix had imagined. Recently, Felix had paid substantial taxes to His Majesty and was already well-regarded by the king, so the king was willing to grant him this favor.
The most crucial point was that despite knowing the kidnappers targeting Wei Wei had noble backing—after the initial panic, the king realized they weren't targeting him—the investigation team had failed to catch the mastermind. Even the retrieval of the possibly dead kidnappers' bodies was handled by Felix's people. The incompetence of his subordinates left the king feeling somewhat awkward and guilty when facing Felix.
But no matter how awkward or guilty he felt, the king was already considering dropping the matter. The earlier searches of noble residences had provoked dissatisfaction among the nobility, and with no culprit caught, continuing the investigation would likely lead to collective protests.
This left the king feeling somewhat apologetic toward Felix. Out of consideration for this—and the fact that Felix had also sent him a sum of money—the king generously approved his request.
Even kings need money.
After accepting the compensation, the king turned a blind eye to Felix's recruitment of freemen. After all, if those people couldn't survive, they'd end up in the slave markets anyway. Who they were sold to didn't matter much.
With no one obstructing them, the recruitment process became much easier. Though coming to the capital had been an accident, Felix had long planned to recruit freemen from various regions, and the capital was no exception.
Kinsley personally led a team to the lower districts to recruit freemen. Those willing to become serfs would receive a "sale fee," based on current slave market prices. The amount varied by age—for example, an adult laborer was worth about one gold coin, equivalent to a draft horse, while older or younger serfs were priced at half that, with differences between men and women.
(From this, one could see just how lucrative Wei Wei's business was.)
Of course, those with specialized skills or those selling themselves as slaves would fetch higher prices, but since they were recruiting serfs, the current rates were already quite favorable.
Thus, the lines were long, though not everyone was willing to give up their status as freemen. Compared to selling themselves, more people chose to sell their children.
Whether in the East or the West, the poorer the family, the more children they tended to have—because they needed as many children as possible to ensure some survived to adulthood.
Moreover, in many cases, children were also seen as assets. When survival became impossible, selling children of the right age could provide a lifeline for the rest of the family.
No one saw anything wrong with this. Such situations were common every winter, and most of those sold were girls.
The children brought by their parents wore numb expressions, clearly resigned to their fate. Some of the prettier girls even showed a hint of relief. If not for the earl's recruitment of serfs, girls like them would most likely have been sold to brothels run by the church or nobles.
By comparison, becoming a serf was the better option.
Standing behind a makeshift table, Kinsley frowned at the long line of girls, all around ten to twelve years old.
The reason they were all this age was simple: older girls had either already been sold or married off.
Though the County of Sardinson needed people, could girls this young work? Kinsley doubted they'd even survive the journey to Sardinson.
From a practical standpoint, Kinsley had no intention of taking these girls. They looked too frail to be of any use—each one little more than skin and bones as if a strong wind could blow them away.
Children this young shouldn't have been accepted at all. They needed laborers, not a group of children who'd require extra food and care.
But the knight's code made it impossible for him to ignore them. So, Kinsley sent someone back to ask for Felix's instructions.
The dispatched soldier hurried back with the reply: they could take them all, but children under twelve would be priced even lower.
The soldier added, "The earl is out. This was Miss Wei's decision."
Having narrowly escaped kidnapping, Wei Wei used the incident as an excuse to decline some invitations, staying home to read and draft new plans. Felix wasn't so lucky—he was swamped with banquets every day. With his fiancée absent, he also had to fend off even more enthusiastic admirers. Eventually, he had to bring Dolores along as his dance partner, effectively introducing her to high society ahead of schedule.
The girl rose to the occasion. Believing Wei Wei had been frightened by the ordeal and seeing so many women vying for her brother's attention, she mustered her courage to overcome her shyness and became his protector. After a few days, her confidence had grown noticeably.
Though it wasn't the earl's direct order, Wei Wei's word carried the same weight. With her approval, Kinsley relaxed the recruitment standards, turning a blind eye even when some families tried to pass off children clearly under ten.
Meanwhile, upon learning that many parents in the lower districts were selling their children, Wei Wei summoned the steward and instructed him to contact merchants for shoes and warm clothing.
"The fabric doesn't need to be high-quality, but it must be warm. The shoes should be sturdy for walking. Contact several merchants—we'll likely need a large quantity."
She couldn't predict the exact number, but it was best to prepare early.
Wei Wei's preparations proved wise. About two hours later, Kinsley sent another messenger to inform her that the parents who'd sold their children had taken the food and left the kids at the recruitment site, with no intention of letting them return home to wait for pickup.
Their reasoning was simple: since the children had already been sold, they were no longer their responsibility. Bringing them back would only waste what little food they had left.
The soldier reporting back couldn't help but mutter, "How heartless."
Wei Wei frowned. "How many children were left behind?"
"Around forty when I left. Probably more by now." The soldier thought for a moment. "There were about eighty-six children in the initial line. More came later."
The soldiers had been there mainly to maintain order. Though this particular soldier couldn't count, his companion had tallied the numbers out of boredom, and he'd remembered the figure.
Wei Wei now had a rough estimate. "Go see which knights are free at the residence. Have them send a squad to watch over the children. I'll send others to take over later."
"Yes, miss." The soldier nodded and left.
Wei Wei turned to the maid behind her. "Penny, could you—Penny?"
Penny, who'd been lost in thought, snapped back to attention. "Yes, miss?"
"Is something wrong?"
Penny smiled sheepishly. "I was just remembering my past."
Wei Wei understood. Penny had also been sold by her parents. If not for Steward Patton taking her to Sardinson Castle, she would've ended up in a brothel.
She patted Penny's hand reassuringly. "Don't dwell on the past. You're doing well now, aren't you?"
"Yes, miss!"
Penny perked up. Her life now was indeed good—plenty of food, warm clothes, a monthly salary, and kind employers. It couldn't get any better.
"Miss, what did you need me to do?"
"I'd like you to organize the maids. Later, have them go and take care of the children."
Since they were all girls, it wouldn't be appropriate for the soldiers to look after them. Wei Wei had no choice but to send the residence's maids. Fortunately, the household had recently hired more help. With the four maids brought from Sardinson, there were now fourteen in total. Qin had been sent to the riverbank to oversee the cooking staff and wasn't home, so Penny would have to lead the group.
Wei Wei instructed, "Go there first, take a headcount, and then bring them to Qin for a meal—notify her in advance. Once the steward has arranged for the clothing, have them change to avoid freezing."
Penny noted everything down, then asked, "Miss, where should we house them? The earl's residence doesn't have enough space."
That was indeed a problem. Wei Wei had no solution herself.
"I'll ask Felix when he returns."
Knowing she was being watched, Wei Wei couldn't leave the house. She could only delegate tasks and wait for Felix to come back.
Today, Felix had been invited to lunch by a noble and returned earlier than usual. Upon arrival, he noticed the residence was unusually empty. The steward, who usually appeared immediately, was absent. After removing his cloak, he went straight to Wei Wei.
Doloris tactfully retreated to her room to rest.
"What's going on? Where's the steward?"
"There's an issue in the lower districts." Wei Wei poured him a cup of hot malt sugar ginger tea—a brew made by simmering ginger slices and malt sugar for twenty minutes before straining. It warmed the stomach, dispelled cold, and prevented illness, perfect for winter.
Felix tested the temperature, found it just right, and downed the cup in one go. He poured himself another, sipping slowly as Wei Wei explained the situation in the lower districts.
Hearing her concerns about housing the children, Felix thought for a moment. "I can ask Allen for help. He has an unused manor house outside the city. We can borrow it temporarily."
Allen's manor was just a house with no attached land. Felix had visited before—the stone building was dilapidated inside and out, with only two elderly servants tending to it. Given their friendship and future partnership, borrowing it wouldn't be an issue.
Felix acted immediately, heading out to ask Allen for the manor.
Meanwhile, Penny led the maids, escorted by soldiers, to the lower districts.
Compared to other areas, the lower districts were truly wretched. The roads were pitted dirt paths, the houses ramshackle and on the verge of collapse. Every doorstep was piled with what might've been trash or "treasures," and the stench in the air made it hard to believe such a place existed in the capital.
The capital was a bustling metropolis, the most populous in Pradie, but its permanent residents (excluding the serfs living on noble estates nearby) numbered only around 30,000. Of these, over 16,000—more than half—were impoverished residents of the lower districts.
The lower districts' poor owned no land and struggled to find steady work, making life incredibly hard. Beyond occasional odd jobs, many resorted to illegal activities. To residents of other districts, this was a den of thieves, robbers, and prostitutes.
While some maids wrinkled their noses and covered their mouths, unable to tolerate the environment, Penny remained composed. Sardinson Castle hadn't smelled much better initially, and before becoming a maid, she'd lived in conditions no better than these.
Fortunately, the recruitment site was at the lower districts' gate, sparing them from venturing deeper into the chaotic area.
"Sir Kinsley." Penny curtsied and explained their purpose.
Kinsley, who'd been fretting over the children, brightened at the sight of reinforcements. "You're just in time. Take them away, please."
Perhaps due to the unusually harsh winter, life in the lower districts had become even harder, leading to an unusually high number of families selling children. In just one day, they'd taken in nearly a hundred, mostly girls but also quite a few boys.
This wasn't because the families valued boys over girls—it was because Kinsley's team refused to take children under ten. Boys on the older side of that range were already contributing to household labor, whereas girls of marriageable age required dowries. Without dowries, they couldn't marry, and keeping them at home didn't provide much labor. Selling them offered a way out for the rest of the family.
Of course, many families did favor sons over daughters. Some even raised daughters explicitly to sell them later.
Penny and the maids took charge of the children. According to the assisting soldiers, these were all individually sold children. Those from families who'd collectively become serfs had been taken back by their parents and weren't present.
Following Wei Wei's instructions, Penny planned to take the children to the riverside first. Though the likely dumping site for the bodies had been identified, the remaining four kidnappers hadn't been found, so stretches of the river were still being searched. Along the banks, people were boiling water for ginger tea and porridge daily. Having been notified earlier, extra batches had been prepared. The maids' task was to get the children fed.
For transport, they'd rented several cargo carts from a livery stable. The children were so emaciated that twenty could easily fit in one cart.
Under the maids' and soldiers' direction, the poorly clad, shivering children climbed aboard. Huddling together for warmth, they looked even more pitiful, softening even the most reluctant maids' hearts.
But Kinsley warned Penny, "Keep an eye out. Some might try to escape."
He not only cautioned her but also assigned extra soldiers to prevent escapes.
"Why?" Penny asked, puzzled. "Weren't they sold by their families? Even if they ran, where would they go? If they tried returning home, they'd know we could track them down, right?"
"Not all were sold by family." Kinsley gestured to the boys mixed in with the girls. "Some are orphans who lived on the streets. Not all came willingly. They're cunning and might bolt at any moment."
Kinsley's implication was clear. The orphans were likely street urchins involved in petty theft, controlled by criminal organizations. The people who'd brought them weren't relatives but their handlers, aiming to double-dip—selling the children, then having them escape back to continue working.
These orphans had no homes, possibly not even legal identities. If caught outside the lower districts, they could be enslaved without consequence. With nowhere else to go, they had no choice but to obey their handlers.
In short, it was a scam, and these orphans might've pulled it off multiple times before.
Penny grew wary. Scanning the children, she noted a few whose darting eyes seemed especially restless.
Sighing, she said, "We'll need your soldiers to keep a close watch."
"Of course. They'll stay on guard."
Once all the children were loaded, the soldiers marched alongside the carts, ensuring no escape attempts. This left the would-be runaways no opportunity to slip away.
Especially once the carts left the lower districts, escape became impossible.
"Brother, what do we do?" A boy clearly under ten huddled against his older sibling, eyeing the spear-carrying soldiers fearfully. "Are we still running?"
The older boy, Hank, hugged his brother and glanced at the receding lower district gates. "Don't worry. I've got you."
Hank and his brother, Kimmy, were orphans—the kind Kinsley had mentioned, controlled by a criminal group.
This wasn't Hank's first time being sold. He'd been sent to slave markets before, helping his handlers scam money before escaping back. If not for his quick wits, he might not have made it the first time.
Impressed, his handlers sold him twice more, and each time, he escaped. This was his fourth sale.
Since the recruiting noble was accepting younger children, the handlers decided to include Hank's eight-year-old brother. Given how small children were these days, they simply claimed Kimmy was ten. Hank pleaded to stay with his brother, and the registering soldier, swayed by their willingness to accept a lower price, turned a blind eye like with the other underage children.
Before, Hank had fought to return because his brother was held hostage. Now that Kimmy was with him, he had no intention of risking an escape.
The carts soon reached the nearest riverside spot, where the hired cooks had prepared a large pot of porridge as instructed. The pot, brought from the earl's residence, had been purchased earlier for banquets—large enough to feed all the children at once. Along with it came wooden bowls and spoons bought nearby.
Women wielding ladles banged them against the pot's rim, shouting at the disembarking children, "Line up, everyone! One at a time!"
The children, still anxious about their uncertain future, hadn't expected their first welcome to be a hot meal.
The air was rich with the aroma of barley—a scent familiar to lower-district children but one many hadn't tasted in so long they'd nearly forgotten it.
Their empty stomachs quickly overrode their fear. They obediently formed lines, those at the back craning their necks for a glimpse of the food.
Especially upon seeing those who'd already received their portions digging in, the sight of the thick barley porridge made their mouths water.
Mindful that the children might've starved for days, Penny relayed Wei Wei's warning: serve modest portions to avoid overeating. Each child received only half a bowl, but for shrunken stomachs, it was a feast.
Many forgot their spoons, gulping straight from the bowls despite the scalding heat, unwilling to waste a single drop.
Hank and Kimmy got their shares and wolfed them down. Even as controlled orphans, such meals were rare—usually, they were lucky to get a dry crust of black bread.
After a few bites, Kimmy offered his bowl to Hank.
"No, I've got enough."
Hank had often lied to share food before, but this time, it was true.
As the barley porridge's warmth spread through him, Hank thought that if meals like this were guaranteed, he'd gladly become a slave.
But was that possible?
The notion flickered briefly before being swallowed by the food.
A life without theft or deceit, with full bellies every day—perhaps only in dreams.