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As the Minister of the Interior, Dinia supported both sides, so they had to give something in return. They had to find a way to lure them to the Ministry of the Interior.
“Okay,” Dinia replied.
Afterwards, the two simply wiped themselves down with hot water and then cuddled together to sleep.
The next morning, Ronan and Dinia both overslept. They gave each other an awkward smile, admitting that what happened the night before had gone a little too far.
After quickly washing up and getting dressed, Dinia ate some pancakes for breakfast at a nearby stall, then turned Ronan into a mushroom and teleported to the Ministry of the Interior for work.
As a result, I was still late.
Fortunately, the boss's lateness wasn't considered late.
In the morning, the Ministry of the Interior held a meeting where Dinia officially announced her upcoming itinerary. After she left, Ronan took over the work of the Ministry of the Interior.
Chapter 440 Before Departure, the Anti-French Alliance: Too Much Money Won't Do
Five days later, the day before Dinia's departure, in the Ministry of the Interior office.
Dinia's snow-white and light golden hair was styled into a neat ponytail. She was wearing the Ministry of the Interior's spring uniform, with a white shirt underneath and a blue-purple fitted military-style cotton coat on top. The coat was stretched taut and made her chest look even larger. The two breast pockets had a golden eagle embroidered on the left and a sword and shield embroidered on the right. A wide black belt around her waist outlined her slender and strong waistline.
She wore a similar blue-purple knee-length skirt.
Inside were black pantyhose. Although they were very thin, they had a delicate texture and an even color. They were thin but not see-through. The calves, ankles, and the insteps of the high heels were all a completely consistent matte, hazy black. They didn't feel like fabric at all; they were more like a thin film.
Just now, Ronan held Dinia's legs and squeezed his own penis between them, stroking it until it was hard and erect.
At this moment, Dinya sat sideways on her desk, her hands supporting her on the surface, her two bare legs draped over her shoulders. Ronan, on the other hand, was half-squatting on the desk, cupping her face in his hands and fucking her mouth as if it were his genitals.
Finally, after his blast, Ronan hurriedly left, not having had his fill of fun, as he had to rush to attend the Imperial Council meeting.
The recent diplomatic situation is quite severe.
The pirates of Weyland attacked the trading fleets of the Kingdom of Fass many times, but they only attacked and did not rob. They then put forward a new trade agreement proposal, wanting the kingdom to lower the export prices of distilled wine, porcelain and silk textiles, and reduce tariffs on wool fabrics.
On the other side, Villa also stepped up his efforts.
It creates friction on the border itself, and also gets the Netherlands, the Svetsky Union, and Austeria to cause trouble.
The Switz Alliance is roughly equivalent to Switzerland in Ronan's original timeline, while Austeria is equivalent to Austria. Both are states of the Will Empire, with Austeria being the hereditary territory of the current emperor's family.
It has that Happinburger vibe.
Although the history of the people, families, and individuals in this world has been completely altered, and the King of Villa no longer holds the title of Emperor of the Empire, and his family is not as powerful as the Habau family in Ronan's original timeline, he is still the Emperor of the Empire's brother.
If we hadn't defeated the princes of the Rhine region a few years ago, they probably would have joined the fray by now.
The anti-French alliance was formed; it belonged to that group.
In fact, when the Kingdom of Fas dealt a heavy blow to the three princes of the Rhine region, Wieland and Villa had already wanted to form an anti-French alliance. However, at that time, the two countries were vying for maritime trade rights in the East and could not reach an agreement.
At that time, the Netherlands in the north dared not move, fearing that its fate would be even worse than that of the three Rhine princes, and that it would be directly destroyed and unified.
The Svets Alliance had been brutally beaten hundreds of years ago and was long neutral. If it weren't for the large sum of money offered by Villa, he wouldn't have wanted to play the role of a cheerleader. He was prepared that the Kingdom of Phos wouldn't be able to occupy his territory, because he would surrender immediately if the Kingdom of Phos attacked.
Austeria was truly determined to target the Kingdom of Phos, because their lord was the true emperor of the empire, and he had been preoccupied with quelling rebellions and defending against Suleiman's attack, leaving him unable to spare any resources.
"The pirates of Weyland attacked us, but they didn't rob us. It's obvious they were just trying to cause trouble without actually fighting. These troublemakers are disgusting."
“Villa only wants to provide money, not troops.”
"Both the Netherlands and the Switz Alliance are our neighboring countries, and we want to fight them but dare not."
"The one who really wants to crush us is the Emperor. That guy has some mental issues; he's a real believer."
The Permanent Secretary of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs wrote and drew on the blackboard while explaining the issue briefly.
“Ultimately, it’s because we’ve developed too fast and too well in the last two years,” Ronan said.
In the real world, no one will allow you to focus solely on farming and development, especially when they see you developing rapidly. The situation in the Western Continent is like the Warring States period: whoever stands out, the others will unite to suppress them.
Ambrina glanced at everyone. "To fight or not to fight?"
“Defense,” Prime Minister Alexander said.
"Whoever crosses the line, beat them to death. No warnings, just beat them," Ronan added.
"What if they don't fight, but just maintain the threat?" the Minister of Foreign Trade asked.
"Maintaining the threat without spending money?" Ronan retorted.
After being rebuffed, the trade minister asked again, "What if there's a trade war?"
"Does our country have to fear a trade war? We have more than 20 million people, and we are a country, not a federation. There are more than 10 million poor people. At worst, we can make life a little better for the poor. The domestic economic cycle can sustain us for a few years without any problem. If these rotten fish and shrimp don't trade, they'll probably have to dig shit out of the toilet to eat."
Ronan said casually that he couldn't be happier with a trade war.
Those present frowned at these words, not because they were unreasonable, but because they were too vulgar and inelegant.
Ambrina covered her mouth and chuckled.
"Then shall we deploy full defenses?" asked Philip, the foreign minister, who had once been so overwhelmed by Ronan's influence that he was practically nauseous.
“How is that possible? How much would a full-scale defense cost?” Ronan retorted.
"Let them fight, let them break in, kill some poor people and even nobles and wealthy merchants, it would be best to carry out a massacre. We will take advantage of the situation to launch a propaganda campaign, proclaiming that this is a tragedy, that foreign heretics and old-fashioned believers are preventing us Protestants from living a good life, and stir up patriotic and religious fervor. No matter who attacks us, we will pick one from the Netherlands or the Switz Union, pin the blame on them, and fight them to the death in the name of revenge and in the name of God the Father."
"As for Weyland, Villa, and those few dogs from the Empire, let's put them aside for now."
Ronan's words were blunt, but they struck a chord with the bureaucrats. First, it would cost less money, without increasing military spending too much. Second, they could target the weak and not worry about the situation becoming unmanageable. As for the possibility of many poor people dying, well, are poor people even human? If they could sacrifice themselves for the country, they might barely qualify as human. What an honor it would be to build a memorial for the massacre, have their names engraved on it, and have a bishop preside over some memorial services.
"Any other comments?" Ambrina asked the group.
No one answered.
"Then you all discuss it carefully and come up with a concrete plan. I haven't had breakfast and I'm feeling a bit dizzy, so I'll be leaving now." After saying that, Ambrina left directly.
Excuses like not having breakfast or feeling dizzy are just that—excuses. She simply doesn't want to stay and discuss the specifics of the plan; that would be too tiring. It's second only to taking care of children.
After Ambrina left, the meeting became a two-person show between Ronan and the Prime Minister.
People have gotten used to this, and some even think it's fine.
The late king appeared gentle, but was actually a ruthless, vicious, and ungrateful person. Ronan appeared to be tough, but in fact everything was negotiable, and he was principled and measured. Within the framework he established, officials could legally and legitimately obtain sufficient benefits.
Looking at the clock, Ronan saw it was already ten o'clock. He stood up and said, "It's getting late. Everyone has worked hard. Let's stay for lunch at the palace. I'll go and tell the kitchen."
Being allowed to dine inside the palace was a privilege never granted by the late king.
Chapter 441 A Serious Person, A Serious Diary: People "Grow"
May 17th, sunny.
I don't know why, but I, who had never written a diary before, started writing one.
There's not much to write about. I left the capital as planned, accompanied by Camille and Grand.
The route is to first go north, then south, passing through western coastal cities, finally reaching the south, then east, then north, and finally back to the capital.
May 19th, cloudy.
We arrived in the canton of Flanders. Although it is called Flanders, it was only the southern part of the Duchy of Flanders a few hundred years ago, and it was the territory of a county that broke off from Flanders.
Three hundred years ago, Oranz turned this place into a province of the Kingdom of Fass.
Instead of visiting the port trading cities here, we went to a small place.
The former residence of the founder of the Reformed Protestant Church is actually a man-made landscape. He left this small town for the capital when he was young and was later declared a heretic and expelled.
He wasn't a magician, yet he changed the world. Grand said it was a pity he wasn't a magician. Camille said that it was precisely because he wasn't a magician that he was spared; those with both power and intellect easily become public enemies. Grand disagreed, saying that Ronan had both power and intellect, yet wasn't a public enemy. Camille retorted, "I am the one with both power and intellect."
Am I? I don't know.
May 23rd, light rain.
We have arrived at the Strait, which faces Weyland across the sea and is adjacent to the Netherlands.
Then we turned back south.
The towns here haven't been very peaceful lately. The Dutch have created some friction on the border, and war could break out at any time. However, there aren't many troops stationed here, with the majority of the Northern Legion stationed around the iron ore mining areas of Lorraine.
I know this was Ronan and his men's doing. They wanted to use the destruction of a prosperous city and the bloodshed of tens of thousands of people as a catalyst to unite all the citizens and make the country a truly unified nation-state.
But, sigh...
I wanted to do something, but in the end I did nothing.
May 27th, sunny.
We have entered Normandy.
May 29th, sunny.
We arrived in Cavallo, in southern Normandy, where I was picked up. The apple brandy here is quite good. Unfortunately, neither Gallan nor Camille can hold their liquor very well.
I'm starting to miss Ronan. I suddenly realized that the last time we were apart was ten years ago when he went from New Sea City to the capital. In the past ten years, we've rarely been apart for long periods of time.
June 1st, sunny. I left Normandy and arrived in Brittany.
June 2nd, sunny. We stopped disguising ourselves and began acting as officials.
June 3rd, sunny, banquet.
June 4th, another banquet. The only takeaway is that, even after hundreds of years, the people here still have an independent spirit, and men, when drunk, dare to say anything.
On June 5th, it was another banquet, so I decided not to write in my diary for now.
On June 15th, we arrived in Rennes, the first place to implement the land-for-shares system. Later, a farmers' association was established, and there were ranches everywhere with dairy cows.
On the 16th, I visited Luc Martin, who had won the cow beauty pageant years ago. He specially hosted me at his old house with his wife. Both of them were dressed in very simple clothes, but unfortunately, he forgot to change his shoes. Those exquisite leather boots were not something an ordinary dairy farmer could afford.
I didn't pay much attention at first; I've seen too many of these pretentious things over the years.
But his wife kept eating meat during dinner, which made me suspicious.
On the 17th, I went to the local branch of the Industry and Commerce Security Bureau to learn about his situation.
Sure enough, thanks to the fact that Queen Ambrina, who is now the queen, personally presented the award, and because he already had some influence among dairy farmers, Luc has become very successful over the years. He has become a large rancher, a cheese merchant, the vice president of the farmers' association, and a guest of honor at the city hall. The ranchers who once tried to coerce and entice him to buy cattle to compete are now under his feet. He has also divorced his wife and married the daughter of another large rancher.
His rapid rise to wealth was undoubtedly marked by blatant extortion and plunder. The incriminating evidence against him from the past two years alone is a thick stack, and the letters of complaint don't even fill a box. This man, who once helped other impoverished dairy farmers, has become a villain. He has repeated, and even worsened, the exploitative practices of the ranchers who once oppressed them against his former associates.
On the 18th, Luc Martin was arrested.
He was the first person to fall because of me, and probably won't be the last.
The dairy farmers were cheering; they were overjoyed.
I'm also very happy.
But I know there will be another him, and perhaps the next him will be the same young rancher I praised and commended this time.
On the 20th, the letter to Ronan was mailed.
I knew this letter wouldn't do any good, and I could even guess how Ronan would reply.
"Dear Minister, considering that the current system of farmers' associations is already relatively complete, with management composed of members, local civil servants, and centrally dispatched specialists, if we want to implement stricter management and supervision and protect the rights and interests of dairy farmers, then we will have to establish a special department. This will be a huge department, and it is foreseeable that its administrative expenses will far exceed its effectiveness and benefits. I personally suggest that you consider this issue from the perspective of the country. As for the welfare of dairy farmers, there will be some; welfare is like water in a sponge—you can always squeeze some out. Finally, I wish you a safe journey."
I really know Ronan so well.
On the 21st, I left Rennes with Camille and Grand. I didn't want to wait for Ronan's reply, nor did I need to.
On August 22nd, a month later, I wrote in my diary again. In the month before, we traveled all over Brittany. During that time, many businessmen were arrested and many officials were dismissed.
I have a new nickname, the White-Haired Witch. So many years have passed, and I am no longer the person I used to be, but these people have not improved at all. All they know is how to use the trick of demonizing.
On August 23, they entered the Loire Valley, and on the 24th, they arrived in Nantes.
The most striking feature here is not the historic castles, churches, or flower plantations, but the people—or more precisely, the slaves.
Nantes was the center of the kingdom's slave trade.
The port is home to countless Rag slaves; a small number will remain, but the majority will be sold to the New World.
It was very dirty, but also very clean.
Because there are no bureaucratic methods, no capitalist exploitation, and no evil disguised as "fairness and freedom," there is only the most barbaric and primitive thing: treating another kind of person as livestock.
I met Ronan's student named Chip in the New World, and I also met many Raga people. Raga people are not born stupid, lazy, or barbaric, but they are indeed stupid, lazy, and barbaric, which is hard to describe.
Camille and Golan, unusually, reached a consensus that it was fortunate for these Rag people to become slaves and receive the baptism of civilization.
On September 1st, we arrived in Aquitaine by boat.
A new wave of banquets is here, but luckily the wine here is quite good. Nothing more to say, just drink!
Chapter 442 Between Husband and Wife, Translate This: What the hell is this "democracy"?
In October, Dinia and her group arrived in New Sea City. Here, they disguised themselves again, which was no challenge for Dinia.