Harry Potter’s Morning Light

   Chapter 2459 "Out of the Jungle" (4)

Snowing.

  Although Belgian snow is nothing compared to the snow in Scotland, it is not a good thing for people who have no shelter from the wind and rain.

  There is at least no shortage of wood in the forest. Woodcutters and hunters will build small wooden houses in the forest to burn charcoal or handle prey. Such houses are also common in colonies, especially in newly developed areas. Although life is hard, they can at least find peace.

   "Why can't we live here!" an old man in rags asked.

  No one agreed with him, but the eyes of people around him in ragged clothes like 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 lie to us!" said a young man in the crowd.

   "Look at this." The officer pointed to the side, and two policemen were clanking to nail a wooden board. There was a notice on the board, "As long as you comply with 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 discussed that the so-called "housing" of these people are actually shacks, and the wooden boards that make up the walls seem to be able to be kicked through with one foot, and of course they are easy to disassemble. The shack has all their "property" and the villagers allow them to "stay overnight".

   A lot of land in the Low Countries is below sea level. It is impossible to reclaim the land by private power, especially the seawall. Amsterdam is not like the land of some hereditary lords. Without the seawall, the city would be gone. So the Netherlands has a unique tradition that land is a public resource.

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

   She didn't stop at this place, the Netherlands also has the habit of drinking beer, but they don't tax beer, only other alcoholic beverages. Belgium is currently able to implement it for two reasons. One is the abolition of military service, and the second is that the Dutch parliament has not promulgated this decree for the sake of orphans and soldiers' widows. What's more, the use of alcohol tax for charity has not been officially announced. This time everyone is willing to pay because they are in a good mood.

   "Madame! Madame Sever!"

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

   She looked at the middle-aged man who ran over panting and thought he was familiar.

   "Good afternoon, ma'am." The middle-aged man gasped, "What a chance encounter."

  Georgianna remembered that he was the Dutch patriot Rutger who appeared by the lake while she was swimming with his horse, as if he was still from the Land Corporation.

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

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

   "Look at what?"

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

   "I don't think they have to be imprisoned because they wander," said Georgiana sternly.

   "But there are vagrancy laws in France," Rutger said, nearly choking Georgiana before he added, "Have you decided where to build the prison?"

   "What advice do you have?" asked Georgiana.

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

   "Give me the list."

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

   "What list?" asked Georgiana.

   "Some free land," Rutger said. "Including this one, but it's not as free as I thought."

  Georgianna glanced at the "residents" again, who seemed to have lost interest in the officials' rhetoric and left.

   "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, so she stopped halfway and waited for Rutger's luxurious carriage to catch up.

   "Any suggestions?" asked Georgiana.

   Rutger stuck his head out of the carriage, looked around, and asked, "I know there's a nice restaurant around here."

   "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 French style, the main house is white and looks small and small, 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 statue of a bearded man in the fountain. It seems to be Poseidon, the **** of the sea. It should be moved from elsewhere and looks antique. There is a church in the woods surrounding the villa. Its roof is in ancient Roman style. If this style of church is not deliberately retro, it is estimated to be close to 7 or 8 hundred years.

   They stopped at the broad steps in front of the villa, and Raggart got out of the carriage, and Georgiana got out of the horse.

   "What is this place?" asked Georgiana.

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

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

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

   Owning a wine estate, you can at least invite friends to drink two glasses of home-brewed wine, and eat some snacks such as cheese, which is a bit of a private party.

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

"Raguete." Just as Georgiana was admiring the elegant interior of the house with her hands behind her back, an elegant lady in an Ionian dress came to the living room, the two embraced and gave a veneer salute "Why are you here today?" ?"

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

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

  Georgianna turned around.

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

  Philippa was a little surprised.

   "My name is Christine, the daughter of Mr. Raggett's friend, and we happened to meet on the road today."

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

   "Prepare us dinner, we'll be back in Brussels later," said Mr. Laggette. "Next time I'll visit."

   Philippa hesitated, but she turned and left.

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

  Georgiana took off her cape and handed it to Figuele "Go and bring a few cases of wine to the cellar, don't let the others freeze."

   Then she sat down on the sofa.

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

   "All the blocks marked in red are up for auction." Raggett said, "The ones in blue are set aside for sale or long-term lease."

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

   "These are school assets."

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

"That's right, and there are regulations for local authorities to maintain churches, but the buildings on these plots have been demolished, and we don't know how they will be used in the future," Laggett explained. Use it for other purposes, please wait."

  Raggert took the document from the young man. "I have detailed information on these areas."

   "You look like an intermediary." Georgiana sarcastically.

   At this moment, the maid brought sparkling wine over, and Georgiana drank the cold sparkling wine while roasting the fire, and couldn't help sighing.

   "How does it taste?" Raggett asked.

   "Like champagne." Georgiana complimented.

  Raggert touched Georgiana's with his glass, and they made a crisp sound that reverberated in the living room.

   (end of this chapter)