Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 302: Chapter 227: Night Talks_2

The people below did not possess such high awareness; they only wanted to enjoy power without taking any responsibility.

It was Lance who had to take the blame for their misdeeds, squandering the reputation he had built up.

That was why he had only advocated rather than enforced, and could only implement his policies in the training camp through his own authority.

As for cleanliness, the streets in town were now very neat and clean, without any signs of feces or urine flowing about. All excrement, even from cows and sheep, was collected for composting.

But the people themselves were still very dirty, and infestations of all sorts of lice were a very common affliction.

Lance truly detested their habit of not bathing, but he also found it difficult to enforce bathing practices. He couldn’t just behead people for not taking baths, after all.

He couldn’t exactly emulate some ancient tyrant and declare, ”No washing, no head!”

At first, Lance also thought of them as stubborn subjects, but after closer study, he realized the situation was not so simple.

The first thing he discovered was that, from their simple life experiences, people found that bathing frequently could lead to illness, or even death.

After Lance discovered this, he began to investigate and then realized that his understanding of bathing was different from that of the common folk.

In the summer, their version of bathing was to jump directly into the river, without any soap. They would simply splash around in the water; whether or not they got clean, at least the sweat was gone.

Moreover, they didn’t have the habit of drying their bodies, but rather let them air dry, or simply shook off the water droplets before putting on clothes.

At this point, Lance understood. With the commoners’ constitution, if someone was exhausted in the summer heat and then suddenly plunged into cold water, it would be strange not to get a cramp. If they were unlucky, it was even possible to sink and drown.

After washing, they would let their bodies air dry or get dressed while still damp. With such rapid alternation between hot and cold, how could they not catch a cold or fall ill?

As for winter, basically, no one bathed because it was so cold that they feared they wouldn’t be able to get out of the water once they got in.

And that was just the men, who could at least bathe in the river. What about the women? Their problem was even more severe.

They didn’t have many places available for bathing. Bathing outdoors would bring disapproval, especially in an era dominated by religious beliefs and powerful feudal conservatism.

After a round of visits, Lance found that it wasn’t that the people weren’t willing to bathe—who wouldn’t want to wash off the sweat after a summer’s day of laboring in the fields?

Who would want to emit a foul stench? Who would want scabs of dead skin on their bodies? Who would want lice driving them mad with itchiness?

The real problem was that they lacked the means to bathe.

Lance had a special bathroom, with people to carry and heat water for him, even with freshly picked petals strewn upon the water’s surface. But what about them?

By the time they finished their farm work, it was already dark, and they were utterly exhausted, hastily eating before going to sleep.

You expected them to haul water back and heat it for a bath?

What a joke.

Before Lance arrived, people lived in longhouses and even had to stay with livestock; where was the space for bathing?

And the water, the firewood—all required labor to obtain, and they simply could not afford such luxuries.

Lance still remembered deeply investigating this matter. When he asked them why they didn’t bathe, the profound look in their eyes was like asking someone why they didn’t eat meat.

It was a luxury that only the Nobility had the privilege to enjoy; these poor people were lucky just to survive and couldn’t dare to dream of such things.

Similarly, if you asked them to drink hot water, where would they find the time to heat water when most of their day was spent working? And where would the firewood come from?

It was then that Lance, who had never before held a governing post, understood that reality wasn’t like a game where a simple mouse click ensured perfect implementation.

What was really needed to implement policies was to understand the problem and then solve it. It wasn’t about deciding on a whim and then dumping all the problems onto the people; otherwise, good intentions could turn bad.

To promote widespread bathing was simple: reduce the cost so that everyone could afford it.

It was also necessary to build public baths for centralized management, and Lance even needed to provide soap and services such as scrubbing.

Similarly, he planned to set up a water station in town providing free hot water. Users would need to bring their own containers, which would create a market for the town’s craftsmen—makers of pottery, iron kettles, and glass cups.

By then, they could recoup money from the people, and the implementation of cleanliness policies would also significantly reduce the diseases caused by filth.

This initiative had started when he returned from Totnes, but now it was further propelled by the fear brought about by the epidemic.

Grendel’s arrival also provided a new direction for Lance. She could not only improve Hamlet’s medical system but, being proficient in Herbology, could also develop more recipes.

With her help, Lance could establish medicinal baths to strengthen the body and saunas to relax the mind, offering these more upscale services at higher prices.

Indeed, Grendel’s role was immensely significant. She could alleviate some of the villagers’ illnesses, and she was needed to formulate the recipes for medicinal baths and steam treatments.

The emergence of bathhouses would stimulate the economy, create a myriad of job opportunities, and also consume timber.

That’s right!

In the wilderness, some forests were indeed corrupted, but some were not deeply affected.

Though not directly usable, this wood could be felled to produce charcoal. He understood the process well: it involved heating wood in the absence of air, causing incomplete combustion. This would expel gases and liquids, leaving charcoal as the remainder.

This approach was not very difficult, and it also allowed the collection of a byproduct, wood tar, which was invaluable for its preservative and moisture-resistant qualities, especially in shipbuilding.

With more charcoal available, the production of military arms would be faster, and storing a supply of charcoal for winter heating could also turn a significant profit.

Lance was neither a civil engineer, nor a specialist in fields like biochemistry, environmental science, or materials science, nor an industrialist. However, he enjoyed reading novels and playing games, so he knew a little about many things.

No one knows or understands everything from the beginning. What people truly need is to learn, to research.

The moment Grendel left Lance, she immediately sought Boudica. Having been frightened and confined by the Witch, she felt that in this strange, alien land, only Boudica, a fellow member of the Barbarian Tribes, could offer her some sense of security.

Clearly, neither of them intended to rest—one did not dare to sleep, while the other had slept enough. Similar backgrounds made them feel closer as strangers in a foreign land.

”How did you come to be here?”

Boudica lay on the bed, her eyes covered with a bandage due to the potion that had been applied. This greatly alleviated her pain and allowed her to finally rest peacefully.

Ever since she became ill, the pain and blindness had initially tormented her, draining the energy from such a lively person—an ordeal more unbearable than death itself.

But she hadn’t become desperate, thanks to her trust in Lance. Instead, after enduring the anxiety, she gradually adapted.

During this ordeal, her suffering had not taken her sanity. Being blind allowed her to see herself clearly.

The restlessness and irritability from being exiled from her tribe gradually faded. She felt as though she had returned to the time when she lay motionless in the forest for two days, waiting to kill a wild beast.

Calmness is the true nature of a hunter.

When faced with Grendel’s query, had it been the Boudica of before, she might have simply refused to answer or even responded with rage and harsh words.

Whether it was her exile from the tribe or being captured by Slave Owners, those were memories she wanted to escape from, memories she never wanted to touch again.

But now, she didn’t react that way. Instead, she accepted her past and, after a moment of silence, began to share her story.

”It was a war...” Boudica began.

Grendel had asked the question, but it soon became Boudica’s narration.

Listening, Grendel couldn’t help but marvel at how strikingly similar their fates were.

Both were geniuses, standing out from a young age.

Both fled, surviving on their own amidst the horrors of war.

Both were blinded by guilt and hatred, blindly seeking revenge.

Both became trapped, and in the end, it was that man who rescued them.