Harry Potter Morning Light

Snowing.

While snow in Belgium is nothing compared to snow in Scotland, it's not a good thing for those without shelter.

At least there is no shortage of wood in the forest. Woodcutters and hunters will build cabins in the forest to burn charcoal or process prey. This kind of house is also common in colonies, especially in newly opened areas. Although life is hard, they can at least find peace.

"Why can't we live here!" asked a ragged old man.

No one agreed with him, but the eyes of people around him who were as ragged as him were silently condemning the official.

"We have provided shelter with food and hot water, and you can have a merry Christmas," the official said in a hoarse voice.

"Don't try to trick us!" said a young man in the crowd.

"Look at this." The official pointed to the side, where two policemen were clinking to nail a wooden board, and there was a notice on the wooden board, "As long as you agree to these conditions, you will not be forced to join the army."

"Don't listen to them, if we believe his nonsense, we won't even have a place to stay when we come back." Someone in the crowd shouted.

The crowd was discussing that the so-called "housing" of these people was actually some sheds, and the wooden boards that made up the walls seemed to be able to be kicked through with one kick, and of course it would be effortless to dismantle them. There are all their "properties" in the hut, and the villagers allow them to "stay" in this way.

A lot of land in the low countries is below sea level, and it is impossible to reclaim land from the sea by private individuals, especially seawalls. Unlike the land of some hereditary lords, Amsterdam would be gone without seawalls. Therefore, the Netherlands has a unique tradition that land is a public resource.

These public lands can be sub-leased to private individuals, but they will not be sold to private individuals, and private individuals cannot be used for purposes other than those approved by the land planning department. This system can not only guarantee the government a stable land income, but also avoid disorderly land development.

She didn't stop at this place much, the Netherlands also has the habit of drinking beer, but they don't tax beer, only other alcoholic drinks. There are two reasons why Belgium can currently implement it. One is because of the abolition of military service, and the second is for the sake of orphans and soldier widows. The Dutch parliament did not issue this decree. What's more, there is no official announcement on the use of alcohol tax for charity. This time, everyone is willing to pay it because they are in a good mood.

"Madame! Madame Sevres!"

Before she had run far, she heard someone calling her name.

She looked at the middle-aged man running over panting, and thought he looked familiar.

"Good afternoon, ma'am." The middle-aged man gasped and said, "What a coincidence."

Georgiana remembered that he was the Dutch patriot Rutger who had appeared by the lake with his horse while she was swimming, as if he belonged to the land company.

She glanced at the messy "camp" again, and asked, "What will be built here in the future?"

"No, no, I'm just here to see." Rutger straightened his hat.

"Look at what?"

"The attitude of the residents." Rutger looked back at the homeless people. "I heard that a new prison will be built in the future."

"I don't think they have to be caught and locked up for vagrancy," Georgiana said sternly.

"But France has vagrancy laws," Rutger said, almost choking Georgiana, and then he said, "Have you decided where you're going to build the prison?"

"What do you suggest?" Georgiana asked.

Rutger waved behind him, and a young man with a briefcase ran over.

"Give me the list."

Rutger reached out, and the young man quickly rummaged through the briefcase.

"What list?" Georgiana asked.

"Some vacant land," Rutger said, "including this one, but it's not as vacant as I thought it would be."

Georgiana glanced at the "residents" again. They seemed to be no longer interested in what the officials said, and scattered away.

"Let's change places," said Georgiana.

Rutger said something in Dutch, got into the carriage, and they left together.

In fact, she didn't know where she was going, and she stopped halfway through the run, waiting for Rutger's luxurious carriage to catch up.

"Any suggestions?" Georgiana asked.

Rutger poked his head out of the carriage to look around, and then asked, "I know there's a good restaurant nearby."

"You lead the way."

Rutger did not get into the carriage, but sat beside the coachman, and the others followed behind his carriage.

This is a complex forest area. Under the guidance of Rutger, they first passed a cemetery and then came to a small wine estate.

It is in French style, the main house is white, it looks small and exquisite, it is more like a country house than a restaurant.

There is an oval garden in front of the main house, and there is a fountain in the center. There is a bearded statue in the fountain, which seems to be Poseidon, the god of the sea. It should have been moved from elsewhere and looks antique. There is a church in the woods surrounding the villa. Its roof is in the ancient Roman style. If this style of church is not deliberately retro, it is estimated to be close to 700 or 800 years old.

They stopped on the broad steps in front of the villa, and Raggett got out of the carriage and Georgiana from her horse.

"What is this place?" Georgiana asked.

"It used to be the property of the church, St. Anne's Abbey. It was auctioned in 1798. Now it belongs to the owner of Bowdier Bank."

Now she understood why there was a cemetery next to the restaurant, and a vineyard and a church, and together they walked up the laurel-ringed steps to the main house.

It is generally believed that grapes grow in warm regions, but there are also cold-resistant grapes. Belgian wine is mainly sparkling wine, but because of its low quality, it is mainly consumed domestically and rarely exported.

Owning a wine estate, at least you can invite friends to drink two glasses of home-made wine, and eat some cheese and other appetizers by the way, which is a bit like a private party.

After walking into the restaurant, Georgiana found that the decoration here was no different from that of a home, and it was not full of tables like ordinary restaurants, and the floor was covered with thick carpets. For a moment, she even thought that she had broken into a private house.

"Raggette." Just as Georgiana was admiring the elegant decoration in the house with her hands behind her back, an elegant lady in an Ionian dress came to the living room, the two hugged and kissed each other, "Why are you here today?" ?”

"I miss your craft, Philippa, what's there to eat today?" said Laggett.

"Who is this young man?" asked the woman called Philippa, looking at Georgiana.

Georgiana turned around.

"I think you've misunderstood, ma'am." She took off her hat. "I'm just like you."

Philippa was a little taken aback.

"My name is Christine. I am the daughter of Mr. Raggett's friend. We happened to meet on the road today."

"Which friend? Why don't I remember you?" Philippa asked curiously.

"Prepare us dinner, we will return to Brussels later." Mr. Laggett said, "I will come to visit next time."

Philippa hesitated, but she turned and left.

"Please." Raggett motioned Georgiana to move to the sofa by the fireplace.

Georgiana took off the cloak and handed it to Figel, "Go to the wine cellar and bring some cases of wine, so that the others don't freeze."

Then she sat down on the sofa.

Raggett took the map out of his briefcase and laid it out on the table.

"All the color blocks marked in red are for auction," Laggett said. "The blue ones are allocated for sale or long-term lease."

"What about these?" Georgiana pointed to the land marked with a cross.

"These are teaching properties."

"I heard that confiscation of church assets has been banned," Georgiana said.

"That's true, and it also stipulates that the local authorities must maintain the church, but the buildings on these plots have been demolished, and we don't know how they will be used in the future." Raggett explained, "It is possible to rebuild the church, and it is also possible It is used for other purposes, please wait a moment."

Raggett took the documents handed over by the young man, "I have detailed information on these areas."

"You look like a broker," Georgiana sarcastically said.

At this moment, the maid brought sparkling wine. Georgiana couldn't help but let out a long sigh as she warmed herself by the fire and drank the cold sparkling wine.

"How does it taste?" Raggett asked.

"Like champagne," Georgiana complimented.

Raggett touched Georgiana's with his own glass, and they made a crisp sound that echoed through the living room.