Chapter 217 A Visit

Among all the rulers of Macragge, Robert Guilliman is undoubtedly and will always be the most special one. His story gives people the impression of the truth of the empire, seemingly simple and correct, but when you look into its connotation, it contains many profound glories and hidden shadows. Conrad Curze, the Lord of the Eighth Legion, once commented that Macragge's efforts have been rewarded with equal value. This may be the simplest answer to all questions. ——"Robert Guilliman: The Second Torch That Never Goes Out"

Does the change in the upper political situation have anything to do with ordinary farmers like them? Jura didn't know.

She leaned against the porch and wiped the sweat from her forehead, shaking the baby wrapped in a thick cloth in her arms, and humming a little tune she thought of for the child.

The city of Macragge stood among the rocks in the distance, and the rumbling echoes of the war a few days ago were still echoing in the farmland under the blue sky. Or was it just the sound of the waterwheel and mill turning in circles, plus the rustling echo of the wind blowing through the vast green wheat fields? Jura thought aimlessly, pulling over a wooden stool and sitting down.

Her eldest son was originally a craftsman. Like his father, although he had little interest, he was good at fitting pieces of wood together to assemble those things that were indispensable in daily life. This stool was what the father and son left for her when they were called up to serve as soldiers under Robert Guilliman this year.

She didn't want those paper letters, gold and silver jewelry, which were useless. She just wanted this solid wooden stool. After being tired of tending the wheat fields, as long as she had a place to sit, she felt that life was still stable.

She privately felt that political changes still had some relevance to ordinary people like them - it shouldn't have, but Robert Guilliman was different, too different.

She couldn't say whether it was good or bad. After all, she hadn't seen the new young ruler in person. He was only a dozen years old? Really young. But Jura couldn't find fault with what he did.

Half of her barley field was land that had been abandoned by the original owner. There were electric fences and signs prohibiting farming, so weeds had been growing out of the cracks in the soil for years. She remembered that it was Robout Guilliman's people who took down the sign, called her out, and put a piece of paper with the ownership of the land into her hand.

"Where would you be when you were a teenager?" she said to the baby.

Suddenly, she heard a sound like wheels rolling in the countryside. This was unusual. If the families she often visited wanted to visit, they would often walk over in a pair of sandals without using any means of transportation... Could it be her husband and son?

By the way, the battle of Macragge was over, and they might have time to go home.

In any case, Jura hugged the child back to the house, smoothed her neat golden curly hair, took out a shiny long knife from the cabinet, and carefully turned the knife flower in her hand, preparing for the sudden accident that required self-defense. She was very skilled in using the knife, so this caution was not because she was afraid of cutting herself - she had never been injured by the weapon in her hand since she was nine years old. She was just worried about scaring the baby who had not woken up yet.

The dull thunder-like sound of the wheels came closer, and Jura saw that it was a transport vehicle manufactured in the Macragge Military Factory, and the model was newer than Jura could recognize.

She turned off the lights, drew the curtains, calmed down, and observed through the gap in the curtains.

The transport vehicle circled and moved along the road paved between the farmlands, driving for a while and stopping for a while, just like sightseeing.

Before long, the road became unsuitable for military vehicles to pass, unless they were willing to roll over the fields. The people in the car got off the ground and walked forward. Jura tilted her head and watched for a while, and found that those people didn't even step on the fields, so she put down her long knife.

A few minutes later, several people approached the only house in this area.

Jura rubbed her eyes and took a breath in surprise - she was not wrong, these people, one, two... a total of four visitors, all extremely tall giants, showing extraordinary nobility and vitality in their every move. Even if they were wearing a light plain gold-edged robe, there was an endless sense of power projected to the world from every wave and step they made.

Jura's heart beat quickly. She gently put the baby back into his wooden bed and soft quilt, and walked quickly to the door.

Robert Guilliman, and his rumored brothers! Of course, who else in the world has such amazing courage and irresistible beauty, like a flawless model, exuding such a profound superhuman attraction? How many people have never met these extraordinary creatures in their entire lives, and four of them appeared in front of her!

She looked back at her house and regretfully found that this small house could not accommodate four giants who were probably four meters tall. She jumped lightly onto the ridge of the field and approached the giants.

But when she really got close to them, Jura retreated in her heart and secretly despised herself: The Archon's family came here for a picnic, why did you go up to join in the fun. She even regretted not learning painting from her father back then, and now she couldn't even record this rare scene.

The blond giant in the lead was their Archon. Jura had seen him several times in the brochure, and now seeing him in person, she found that Robert Guilliman was much more lovable than in the brochure.

This is not to say that the printed leaflets did not fully print the giant's appearance. What was really missing from those leaflets was the infinite vitality and vigor in Robert Guilliman that Jura had never seen before. His blue eyes looking at the wheat field were filled with a deep love and approval, which gave people a sense of breadth and selflessness more than the clearest sky. Despite his huge stature, his well-defined face gave people a feeling of neither the perfection of a statue nor the coldness of a blade, but even a trace of incongruous persistence and sincerity.

Jura dared to say that Robert Guilliman was more vivid and lively than anyone she had ever seen. She had never thought that these precious qualities would appear in a supreme archon.

As for the other three giants behind the blond giant, the black-haired one was extremely majestic and oppressive, the white-haired giant was like a cold and solid stone, and the last one was particularly strong, but he didn't seem difficult to touch... Before Jura could seriously describe their appearance, Robert Guilliman saw her.

"Lady," the Archon called her, "according to the register, you are the owner of the land here. Do you mind chatting with us?"

His voice was as young and powerful as he was, with less choreographed intonations than the one on the broadcast, and more intimate and lovely. Using disrespectful terms, it always reminded Jura of her own children - hey, they were all heirs raised by Macragge, so what's wrong with that?

Jura responded, "My Lord, what do you want to know?"

"I want to know a lot." Robert Guilliman lowered his head and lowered his voice, with just the right amount of force, and skillfully controlled the volume within the range that mortals could adapt to. "For example, I am planning to lay railroad tracks here, but the tracks will have to pass through some fields. We will conduct an official public opinion survey in a week, but I also want to ask in advance, what is your opinion on this matter?"

"Our family must be very supportive, my Lord." Jura answered readily, "But you should pay more attention to the Gru family. They are all stubborn. , to convince them, we need to send an official with good eloquence to go. ”

“Okay, we will remember. In addition, how is the wheat sales volume in this area this year compared with previous years?”

“There was little rain this year, and the new fields approved by the adults for our family have not been harvested yet, so the harvest is worse than in the past, but we sold a lot, and the price is reasonable, which is better than last year in general. I was worried that the child at home would save some money on toys and snacks next year, but once the account is settled this year, I can buy two more sets of clothes for the child next year.” Jura calculated the drachma earned this year in his mind, and the smile on his face became more genuine.

"It fits the calculation," said the black-haired giant behind Guilliman. "The rising demand curve for supplies after the Ultramarines moved in overwhelmed the supply input to the agricultural product market brought by several agricultural worlds in Ultramar joining Macragge."

"The price your quartermaster offered for procurement was higher than the market price," said Jura. "My lord, I almost thought they had remembered the price wrong."

"You deserve it, citizen." Guilliman said, and when he looked at his brothers, his eyes seemed to be quite proud. "Macragge will not treat any of her children unfairly."

Jura smiled and shook his head.

"My Lord, please do not dislike my frankness. The Archon before Archon Connor Guilliman spoke more beautifully than you when he was running for election. His policies were bolder than the last, and he carved the previous shortcomings one by one on the stone slab, which was left hanging for months on the base of the statue of the War King at the city gate. When he took office, none of his promises were fulfilled, and they were just a few empty scrolls."

"You and Archon Connor are not empty at all. Once the slogans are issued, there are political orders to follow. I often think that if you had come to Macragge earlier, perhaps the development of this planet would be three times better."

Guilliman smiled and accepted Jura's praise.

He then asked a few more questions about life, some of which were so small that Jura herself usually didn't pay much attention to them. When Guilliman mentioned them, she realized that these trivial matters were the indispensable aspects of citizens' lives. She was not afraid, and she spoke directly about everything, trying to organize her and many people in this area's opinions into the most suitable way to report to the Archon.

In this not-too-long exchange, Robert Guilliman's three brothers often joined in, sometimes to provide supplements and evidence for Guilliman's words, and sometimes to come up with some new questions. Jura was surprised from time to time that she could discuss Macragge's political affairs with four giants. She had never thought of such an incredible scene for many years.

What woke her up was the crying of the child in the room. She subconsciously calculated the time, and it seemed that the child's nap time had just passed. Jura withdrew from this dreamlike opportunity and looked at her home awkwardly.

"We are leaving too, Lady Jura." Guilliman noticed the change in Jura's demeanor, "We still have many areas to visit this week. Goodbye, citizen."

"Wait a minute," Jura took a breath and mustered up her courage, "My husband and son are serving in your army this year. Please ask them..."

"Macragge respects every victim, ma'am. We never miss a death notice." Guilliman smiled, "It has been a few days since the Galan Rebellion. I think since you have this question..."

"They are safe." Jura blurted out, and immediately relaxed. "I knew they always have good luck..."

"It's not that good, ma'am. In the army, they often participated in some innocuous little gambling games, and were deceived by a new recruit Manicino out of half of their income. We are inventorying Manicino's property and preparing to transfer the money he earned. The remaining portion will be returned to all the deceived warriors."

"Don't pay it back!" Even in front of the consul, Jura could barely control his temper. "Let them improve their memory!"

"It doesn't matter, we can send the money directly to your home." Guilliman nodded calmly and agreed, "I also have one last question to ask."

"Speak, my lord," Jura said softly.

"Ms. Jura, the previous consul has been dead for many years, and the banishment resolution imposed since your father's generation has expired in Macragge's law. Now the Senate Council is in a period of reform and revival. If you are willing to inherit the title , return to Macragge and get a seat in the council chamber. What do you think?"

The Archon asked in a deep voice.

"What does politics have to do with us ordinary peasants, Lord Guilliman?" Jura bowed and said, "Farewell to you, respected Archon."

Guilliman looked at her deeply and left with several brothers.

Jula turned around and walked quickly towards her home.

This house was built by her husband and her. Every brick and tile was built by two people noisily discussing it together. There was a carpenter's handsaw on the fireplace, and three fishing poles were placed against the wardrobe. Used long wooden pole. In her desk drawer are several short articles she has written recently. In a few days, when she has revised the final draft, she will submit it to several newspapers in Macragge and choose one of her commonly used pen names. One to publish.

This is exactly how she lived her life for decades.

She picked up the baby, hummed a tune to her heart's content, and rocked it gently and rhythmically.

"Robert Guilliman is indeed an admirable man, but in more than ten years, I may still be here, freely writing some editorials, planting a few hectares of fields, and calling your father to repair the pillars and columns that were broken by the rain. Awning," Jura said to himself, "where will you be then, my Ionid, Ionid Hill?"