With Irene's final, resounding cry of "Grand Opening," the heavy oak doors of the flagship store slowly opened amidst the bated breath of the crowd.
A fresh breath, intertwined with mint and a faint floral fragrance, instantly dispersed the original chill on the street.
Guided by the soldiers, the subjects, driven by awe and curiosity, spontaneously formed a neat, long queue, stepping into this sanctuary of civilization in batches.
The moment they stepped into the store, the first thing the subjects felt was not luxury, but an unprecedented respect.
The shelves were cleverly divided into two areas.
The commoner area on the left did not appear shabby because of its affordable prices. Instead, it was piled high with large-capacity, simply packaged yet exceptionally neat wooden boxes and porcelain jars.
The commoner soap had no expensive essential oils added, only the pure scent of oil and fat. The price of one bar was roughly equivalent to the food money of a strong laborer for three days.
Although it was not a cheap item that could be casually discarded, as long as one worked hard to save up a little, everyone in the family could wash off the dirt from their bodies in front of the washbasin.
The basic tooth powder in large jars was enough for a family of four to use for half a month, and the price was set at a threshold that ordinary subjects could afford if they gritted their teeth.
This was also the price Sophia had set herself. She believed that the things invented and sold by her own country should be sold cheaper to her own citizens, and sold more expensively to foreigners.
An old farmer who worked in the fields year-round, with black mud filling the crevices of his fingers, stared at the uniform price tags with trembling hands.
He had thought that for his entire life, he could only smell the fragrance on the bodies of nobles. He never expected that here, he could also afford a piece of decency.
"Your Majesty... Your Majesty truly wants us to become clean too."
The old farmer's eyes instantly reddened. He didn't even dare to touch the pristine white packaging, only bowing continuously towards the figure wearing a crown by the handrail.
In the very center of the hall, a counter covered in purple velvet, personally blessed by Daphne with Holy Light so that it shimmered with a faint glow, became the focus of everyone's attention.
Placed there was the so-called 'Queen's Special Edition'.
The essential oil soap had rose essential oil personally brewed by Irene added to it, and each bar was carved with intricate Black Rose patterns.
Although the golden tooth powder had no gold inside, its specially made porcelain bottle was inlaid with a shiny copper edge, making it sparkle seemingly like gold.
The prices of these items were more than fifty times that of the commoner area.
Several old-school nobles hiding in the crowd stared at that counter, cold sweat directly soaking their inner garments.
They had originally intended to just buy some ordinary items to make a perfunctory show, but seeing the four characters 'Queen's Special Edition' brightly written on the sign, they instantly understood that this was His Majesty's loyalty harvester.
"Buy!
Go... go buy three bars of that 'Queen's Special Edition' soap!
No, five bars!"
A declined Earl gritted his teeth, taking out his bottom-of-the-trunk coins.
He didn't ache for the money; he ached for his life.
If all the nobles in the city bought the 'Queen's Special Edition', and only his family used the ordinary version, then in His Majesty's eyes, wouldn't his loyalty also be discounted?
Chancellor Victor stood behind Sophia, watching the subjects downstairs shedding tears of gratitude, as well as the scene of the nobles trembling with fear as they paid their taxes. The notebook in his hand was almost pierced through by his writing.
"Your Majesty's move is too formidable.
She is using the commoner area to win people's hearts. Through the popularization of sanitary habits, she subtly shapes the scattered subjects into a unified, civilized ethnic group.
And that 'Queen's Special Edition' is a precise harvest of the old nobles' wealth!
Your Majesty is telling them: your privileges have ended. Now, your only value is to fill the National Treasury through high-level consumption, thereby proving your obedience to the Royal Authority.
With one fast and one slow, one pulling in and one letting go, the class contradictions of Mason have actually reached a bizarre balance in front of this tiny bar of soap!"
Delilah pressed the hilt of the sword at her waist, her gaze sharp as an eagle, repeatedly scanning the crowd.
Her gaze lingered for a moment on the tips of Irene's hair, which were bouncing due to excitement, then turned to the old farmer who was rubbing his eyes, and finally returned to Sophia.
'Your Majesty is changing the world in a gentle way, and what I must do is guard this gentleness.'
She noticed a noble revealing a trace of impatience from queuing too long. Delilah's eyes instantly turned as cold as polar glaciers. Her right thumb slightly pushed up the crossguard of her sword, emitting a crisp sound of metallic collision.
That noble shivered and immediately straightened his back, revealing the most professional and humble smile of his life.
'Despicable Tyrant, despicable Tyrant's lackey.'
The subjects gathered in groups of three or five, their tiptoes stepping cautiously on the Cement floor that was as smooth as a mirror, as if afraid that stepping a bit heavier would shatter this masterpiece of civilization.
Several women wearing faded headscarves were gathered in front of the neat soap rack. They extended their rough fingers, but just as they were about to touch the milky-white square block, they abruptly pulled back and wiped them vigorously on their aprons.
"Good heavens, is this thing the kind of soap Your Majesty uses?
It smells like morning dew, without the slightest stench of lye water!"
"I see written on the sign that this bar costs six copper coins.
I calculated it; if we save the money from two meals of Black Bread, it's roughly enough to exchange for a bar.
That deadbeat husband of ours reeks of the cowshed. If he doesn't wash up, come spring, I want to drive him to sleep in the haystack!"
"Six copper coins? That isn't too outrageous.
I heard from a friend working as a servant in the Palace that when this thing is rubbed on the body, the foam that comes out is whiter than winter snow, and after washing, the skin becomes as soft as a newborn lamb.
I have to bring a bar for my little daughter too; she always complains her body itches."
On the other side, the men were scratching their heads at that neat row of wooden toothbrushes. Several strong laborers working at the docks were pointing at this delicate object.
"Are these little sticks planted with pig bristles or horse tails? Lord Irene said this is called a toothbrush, and it's meant to be stuffed into the mouth to stir around?"
"Hey, you bumpkin! That's used together with this jar of tooth powder! See that white powder?
Smell it; this cold air rushes straight to the forehead!
I heard that if you use this thing, even if you took a bite of cow dung last night, when you wake up in the morning to talk to your wife, your mouth will be full of mint flavor."
"Really? You're the one biting cow dung. How much is this set?"
"Tooth powder is six coppers a jar, and the toothbrush is three coppers.
I think it's doable! Brushing our teeth every morning like nobles, we'll feel a head taller than those from the neighboring village when we go out to work!"
Several young girls were gathered in front of the porcelain jars filled with basic shampoo, staring at the flowing, transparent liquid and discussing in low voices.
"Look, this water is actually thick.
The salesgirl sister said this is called shampoo, and just a little bit can rub out a head full of bubbles. After washing, the hair is as smooth as silk and won't even knot."
"Oh my, then wouldn't we avoid pulling out large handfuls of hair just to comb it like before? How heartbreaking that was."
"The key is the price! This jar is enough for us to wash for a month.
Your Majesty is truly merciful and generous. For such a good thing, she actually only charges us this little money.
I heard from the traveling merchants from Leighton that over there, this kind of water requires silver coins to exchange for!"
Although soap and shampoo had been placed in some shops in the Royal City for sale before, the vast majority of the subjects still hadn't bought them.
Although the price Sophia sold to her own country's people was much lower than the price sold to people of other countries, for the subjects, it was still the money for a few meals.
But now it was very different. Sophia had people distribute Black Bread in the city every few days, and subjects who voluntarily participated in making the Black Bread could receive extra for free. Therefore, even if the subjects couldn't eat to their fill, they wouldn't starve.
Not starving, combined with the lowered tax rate, naturally led to a bit more desire to follow the trend of civilization.
Sophia looked down from the railing on the second floor. Listening to these murmurs, a strange sense of reassurance welled up in her heart.
Three copper coins, six copper coins... Although the profit per item was low, it couldn't be helped that everyone in the entire city wanted to buy them.
Watching these people enthusiastically discussing how to save money for a toothbrush, Sophia suddenly felt like she was managing a large-scale simulation game.
As long as they started to love cleanliness, infectious diseases would decrease, labor efficiency would improve, and the average quality of Mason would rise—in this wave of business, This Queen was guaranteed to make a profit without losing.
She turned her head and found Willow looking down with slightly reddened eyes.
"Your Majesty, did you hear?
They said that with these, they are living like humans.
What you have bestowed upon them is far more than soap; it is dignity."
Sophia pulled her black fox fur closer expressionlessly:
"Dignity is too illusory, Willow.
This Queen prefers seeing them have a better mood for work after brushing their teeth every morning.
After spring begins, the work that needs to be done will only increase, not decrease."
Leaning against the handrail, Sophia looked at the subjects surging in like a tide and leaving with a sense of sacred mission below. Listening to the endless voices of praise, her mood was surprisingly relaxed.
Although her face still held no expression, those pale golden pupils appeared exceptionally profound at this moment.
Watching these people have so much drive, she felt that the braised pork later... no, the various factories and schools next year, didn't seem so out of reach either.
As the setting sun completely sank below the horizon, the first day of the Black Rose flagship store's trial operation drew to a close.
Vasha, leading several cleanly uniformed female officials, was counting boxes upon boxes of heavy copper coins and a small number of silver coins in the rear with an excited face.
"Your Majesty, we've won a great victory on the first day. Shouldn't we have a... sense of ceremony?"
Irene slipped to Sophia's side like a nimble cat.
Her pink twin-tails were slightly messy from being busy all day, but those azure eyes gleamed with a sly light under the dim palace lamps, her hands subconsciously rubbing back and forth.
Sophia sat on the VIP chair on the second floor, currently enjoying a moderately forceful shoulder massage from Willow.
She raised her eyes slightly, her clear and cold voice carrying a trace of imperceptible laziness:
"A sense of ceremony? This Queen remembers the commotion from those few bundles of bamboo tubes this morning was already loud enough.
Speak. Which piece of land in This Queen's pocket have you set your eyes on this time, or the approval rights for what new invention?"
"Hehe, this time it's not for an invention. It's to reward our stomachs!"
Irene leaned in mysteriously and lowered her voice.
"Your Majesty, Delilah and the others brought back quite a bit of top-grade beef and mutton from Leighton.
Moreover... hehe.
I went to the greenhouses last night to check. The first batch of chili and potatoes are completely ripe. That redness is simply seducing people to commit a crime!"
Sophia's fingertips trembled slightly.
Chili? Potatoes? Beef and mutton?
Although on the surface she still maintained a calm appearance of 'This Queen is not interested in mundane desires', Sophia's inner heart had already begun to do somersaults frantically.
She had already guessed what Irene wanted to do.
"So, how do you want to eat them?"
Sophia asked with feigned coldness.
Seeing that His Majesty hadn't directly refused, Irene instantly perked up, gesturing with her hands and feet:
"I call this way of eating Hot Pot!
It's putting a large pot in the middle of the table, burning a charcoal fire underneath to let the broth boil.
It can be one large pot, but it's best to find someone to make a split pot, because everyone hasn't eaten things like chili before, and they might not necessarily be used to it.
Although I definitely want to eat the spicy pot!
We'll take those red chilies, Sichuan peppercorns, and spices, add some beef tallow, and boil it into a bright red base broth. Then, we throw in beef and mutton sliced as thin as paper rolls, along with freshly dug potato slices..."
As Irene spoke, she apprehensively observed Sophia's expression.
After all, in this era where aristocratic etiquette was emphasized and even drinking soup had to follow a rhythm, this way of eating where 'a group of people gathered around a large pot tossing things wildly' was simply trampling on traditional teachings.
She was even prepared to be reprimanded by Sophia as vulgar.
However, what she waited for was a crisp response from Sophia without hesitation:
"Permitted.
Since it was your proposal, then you will lead people to prepare it.
Incidentally, call everyone along too."
Daphne's eyes lit up upon hearing this.
"Hot Pot! Such a nostalgic flavor."
Even the Saint couldn't help but swallow a mouthful of saliva.
In her Magical Girl world, the post-battle gatherings were often precisely this kind of steaming hot format.
Although she was here to spread the Holy Light, at this moment she felt that the steam of the Hot Pot was the holiest light.
Compared to Daphne's anticipation and Irene's drooling, Willow was somewhat confused.
"Gathering around a charcoal fire, boiling water to cook meat?
Lord Irene, isn't this the way soldiers eat when camping in the wild?
Isn't... isn't this wronging Your Majesty too much?"
Willow's face was full of worry, already imagining in her mind the scene of Sophia condescending to cough amidst the smoke and fire.
Delilah, on the other hand, furrowed her brows without saying a word.
The God of War's logic was always online, although not on the same wavelength as the others.
Eating from the same pot meant no distinction between high and low status, and it required extremely high trust.
'Irene, are you testing our loyalty, or do you want to use this method to familiarize everyone with collective survival in war?'
Victor was surprised by the Girl Queen's straightforward agreement.
Just because of a casual mention by the Inventor miss, His Majesty actually agreed!
'What a great concept! You only saw eating, but I saw politics!'
'Your Majesty is forging the Mason community!'
'This single pot symbolizes the Empire's melting pot. These different ingredients symbolize the subjects, nobles, and the military.'
'Everyone rolling in the same pot means sharing benefits and bearing destinies together!'
'This way of dining that breaks class barriers is the ultimate means of civilizational integration!'
'Your Majesty, every bite of food you chew is for the sake of the state!'
"Victor, put away that expression of yours that looks like you're about to kneel to the pot."
Sophia stood up, the black fox fur cutting a cold arc behind her.
"Since we are going to eat, let's go to the side hall next to the greenhouses in the rear garden.
It's warm there, and also convenient for fetching vegetables."
She turned her head, looking at the excited Irene:
"Prepare it as you described, but the ingredients must be handled well. That soup base you mentioned must also be mixed flavorfully.
If you let This Queen taste even a hint of the mutton's gaminess, your title of Great Inventor will be suspended for now."
"As you command! Your Majesty! I guarantee it will be so fragrant it makes you doubt your life!"
Irene cheered, pulling the still-dazed Willow and Delilah to rush towards the rear kitchen.
Meanwhile, Sophia stood on the steps, feeling the faint coolness in the air, the corners of her mouth hooking up extremely lightly into an expectant arc only she knew about.
Finally... I can eat a meal with some real flavor.
However, just when Sophia thought she could quietly wait to eat, the next second Irene ran back playfully and pulled Sophia's hand.
"Your Majesty, you must come along too! The sacred ceremony of picking the first chili must be done by Your Majesty personally!"
Irene blinked, extending a finger beside her face:
"This is also a sense of ceremony!"
Sophia was helpless and could only be pulled along by Irene.
When they reached the door of the greenhouses, Victor stopped his footsteps, his old yet astute eyes scanning the surroundings.
He knew deeply that this was not only Mason's granary but also His Majesty's private miracle.
"Lord Vasha, the space inside the greenhouses is narrow. It's better for this old bag of bones to stand guard outside, so as not to disturb the spiritual energy of the plants."
Victor chuckled. Although his tone was amiable, it carried an unquestionable rule.
Vasha, as a smart person who had just recently defected from Leighton, immediately revealed a docile smile:
"The Lord Steward is right. Such a sacred moment should naturally be witnessed by Your Majesty and the Lords closest to you."
She stood in the snow, watching the back of the silver-haired, snow-like girl being pulled by Irene. In her heart, her awe for Mason deepened another layer, while also feeling some involuntary envy.
Knowing when to advance and retreat was her first rule for surviving long under this Tyrant.
Actually, sometimes she also wanted to take a step further.
But could she really abandon everything of Orr? Even if she said so, surely everyone would not believe it.
Clack—
The heavy wooden door closed, blocking all the severe cold behind.
Inside the greenhouses, the moist heat instantly caused a fine layer of water droplets to stick to everyone's eyelashes.
Sophia was pulled by Irene to the row of fiery red chili racks.
"Your Majesty, look!
This one is the reddest. It was simply born for tonight's soup base!"
Irene pointed at the bright red, pointed chili on the branch, her azure eyes full of urging.
Sophia sighed helplessly.
She had originally wanted to directly order the attendants to pluck it, but under the gaze of several sparkling, expectant eyes, she could only extend her fair, porcelain-like slender hand.
As her fingertips touched it lightly, a vibrant sense of resilience transferred over.
Sophia snapped it gently, and that touch of fiery red fell into her palm.
Clap, clap, clap!
Irene was the first to jump up and applaud. Delilah also revealed a rare smile, the sound of her hands clapping heavy and powerful. Willow's face was even redder, acting as if she had witnessed some Genesis ceremony.
Following Irene's guidance, Sophia walked to the mature onions and reached out to pull the emerald leaves, bringing out the round, purple-red fruits from underground.
"Woah—!"
Daphne let out a cute exclamation of praise. Onions!
Although it wasn't the first potato, Irene said since they were already here, they might as well pick everything.
When that potato covered in moist dirt was personally dug out of the soil by Sophia, the surrounding cheers almost blew off the roof of the greenhouses.
"Enough, enough. With you acting like this, how do you look like important ministers and a Saint of the Empire?"
Sophia looked at the little speck of mud stuck to her hand and shook her head, somewhat amused.
"You've all been led astray by this little girl Irene."
Irene giggled, sticking out her chest proudly:
"This is called a sense of participation! Your Majesty, this is the first winter harvest of the Mason civilization!"
After speaking, Irene even muttered softly:
"Besides, I'm clearly around the same age as Your Majesty, why does it always sound like I'm an elementary school student every time."
Watching Sophia half-squatting amidst the green shadows, her fingertips pinching that dirt-covered potato, her silver hair slightly fluffed up by the hot steam, her side profile looking as beautiful as an illusion under the faint light of the ores, Irene suddenly blanked out. She subconsciously touched her pocket and sighed with some regret:
"Sigh, if only I could have invented the camera earlier.
This kind of moment, this kind of beauty... if it could be frozen in time and hung in the Palace hall, those Leighton nobles would probably fall directly to their knees at Your Majesty's feet with just one glance."
Although Delilah couldn't understand what a camera was, she understood 'freezing beauty', and nodded seriously in agreement:
"If it is to record Your Majesty's appearance, this subject is willing to seek out the most expensive alchemist.
Or a painter. I heard there are painters in the Imperial Capital who can draw people vividly and lifelikely."
And Daphne, coming from the Magical Girl world, had her eyes light up even more, nodding deeply with emotion:
"Exactly! This kind of beauty of Your Majesty, if not recorded, is truly a massive loss to civilization!
In my hometown, such moments are usually carved into the most radiant spirit stones!"
Sophia stood up and patted the dirt off her hands. Listening to their increasingly outrageous praises, the corners of her mouth couldn't help but hook up into an extremely tiny arc.
"Alright, enough standing there.
Willow, Irene, you guys harvest the rest.
Delilah, help them carry the basket."
Sophia took the warm towel Willow handed over and wiped her hands. Sitting on the small stool, her gaze turned back towards the direction of the side hall, the thirst for the beef tallow spicy flavor already boiling to its peak in her heart.
A camera, huh... what a distant word.
However, Delilah's words did remind Sophia.
Before the camera was invented, she could indeed find a painter first.
"Your Majesty, why am I the one carrying the basket?" Delilah asked softly.
"Do you want to pick too?"
Sophia's gaze met Delilah's pale red eyes, the corners of her mouth curling up in a small arc. She took the basket: "You go pick too."
"No, Your Majesty."
Delilah hurriedly tried to grab the basket back, wanting to tell His Majesty it wasn't that she didn't want to work. However, the next second Sophia gently patted her and said:
"Go on."
Delilah's face turned slightly red, and she nodded somewhat stiffly.
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