After drying the water droplets from his body, Aegon picked up the clothes delivered by the servants: a Night's Watch-style all-black long robe, but the material was velvet, clearly not a uniform—both in texture and craftsmanship, it was worlds apart from what the Night's Watch foot soldiers wore. Putting it on and feeling it against his skin, the touch was so comfortable it almost made him groan aloud. In Westeros, only the Night's Watch wore all-black clothes, but the size didn't seem custom-made for him, so it must have been Benjen Stark's own clothing.
(Following the leader on a business trip is indeed much better than staying at The Wall.) Aegon thought with a bitter smile.
Of course, he hadn't always worn worse clothes. Before coming to this world, while his family wasn't nouveau riche, they at least owned a house and a car, and his mother was a clothing store owner who was originally a tailor, making her a genuine expert. He couldn't say anything else for sure, but any item he picked from his wardrobe was definitely a good, practical, and presentable piece... From childhood to adulthood, wearing "good clothes" was simply a matter of course. But that life felt like a distant past, like a previous life. He, who was recently still striving for a higher standard of living, was now reduced to feeling satisfied just by wearing comfortable clothes. Among transmigrators, he was probably among the worst off.
Winterfell was built atop a hot spring, with hot water transported through pipes within the walls. Even the worst rooms without fireplaces were at least twenty degrees warmer than outside. After showering and sitting in a chair, Aegon was so comfortable he barely wanted to move a finger... But there was still something to do tonight, so he roused himself, tidied his clothes, and left the room.
...
The Night's Watch being "welcome guests" in Winterfell was just a nice way of saying it. With the King's arrival, no one had the time to bother with a mere foot soldier like him. Following the impatient directions of a servant, he arrived at the banquet hall, found his place in a corner, and began waiting with a large group of other early arrivals.
The hall was steaming with heat, filled with the aroma of roasted meat and freshly baked bread. The grey stone walls of the hall were hung with the banners of various houses: the grey and white Direwolf of the Stark family, the golden crowned stag of House Baratheon, and the crimson roaring lion of the Lannister Family. A singer was strumming a harp and singing a ballad. Aegon was already unfamiliar with the language of Westeros, and being at the far end of the great hall, he couldn't make out the content of the song at all.
Jon Snow was at his table. At this King's banquet, regardless of whether his father was Rhaegar Targaryen or Eddard Stark, as long as he wasn't a legally recognized heir, a bastard's status was the same as that of a certain Night's Watchman: "welcome," meaning eligible to enter and be seated, but the lowest level of participant. This was the cold hierarchy of the Ice and Fire World, but the young man didn't seem troubled by it; on the contrary, he appeared quite at ease—occasionally feeding the little Direwolf hiding under the table, and sometimes eagerly asking Aegon next to him about various details concerning the Night's Watch, looking carefree and optimistic.
Besides the bastard and the Night's Watchman, there were many young squires at the same table. Some served the Stark family, some were loyal to the royal family, and others came from Casterly Rock or Lannisport. Among these lowest-tier participants of the banquet, there were no old family feuds or long-standing grudges between the elders. Despite coming from all corners of the realm, they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, sipping the fine wine in their cups and chatting about their experiences in the same language—Jon asked him with great interest about The Wall, and he answered each question. As he narrated, more and more people put down their knives, forks, and wine cups and joined the conversation.
"Do Giants really exist?"
"Do the people North of the Wall really have sex with goats?"
"I heard the Wildlings eat their own children when they're hungry!"
Aegon knew that talking about the White Walkers would only be seen as bragging, so he simply avoided the topic altogether, instead choosing interesting topics that could serve as conversation starters.
He was already in his twenties this year. The Eastern characteristic of looking young allowed him to blend in with this group of teenagers, but the accumulation of age and experience made him the most mature and steady person at this table, at least. Some popular psychology books he had read before transmigrating made him understand how to cater to others... In his original world, he wasn't considered slick, but dealing with a few kids in this world, where the common theme was fighting and killing, was effortless. In no time, the Night's Watch Ranger in his brand-new black clothes became the center of the table. The teenagers gathered around him, constantly toasting him and asking questions. The atmosphere was extremely lively, and even people from the next table moved their benches closer to listen to Aegon's stories.
"However, The Wall hasn't been very peaceful lately." Having said enough interesting things, Aegon began to turn the conversation to serious matters. "The weather is getting colder by the day, and one hundred thousand Wildlings, led by the King-Beyond-the-Wall, are starting to gather, preparing to break through The Wall and come South—for them, everything South of The Wall is the South—to survive the winter. Rangers have begun to spot humanoid figures suspected to be White Walkers in the Haunted Forest... Since the beginning of this year, several brothers have gone missing while patrolling the North."
Speaking of such matters to this group of bastards and young squires was naturally meaningless, but news spreads. Behind the bastards were the heads and future heirs of the Stark family, and the squires served knights, nobles, and other people who actually held resources in Westeros. Spreading the plight faced by the Night's Watch through various channels would, in the long run, surely benefit the Night's Watch.
The high-ranking officers of the Night's Watch are upright and brave men, but the environment and atmosphere of the era they were born and raised in meant they had limited understanding of the role of "public opinion"... Aegon had a vision and insight far surpassing theirs, and he ultimately wanted to use what he knew to make a small contribution to the corps—in this cruel world, one had to be prepared for multiple possibilities in everything. If he couldn't find a way to leave the Night's Watch, he would still have to rely on his comrades to survive. What was beneficial to the corps was beneficial to himself.
"One hundred thousand Wildlings?" Some listeners didn't believe it at all, while others showed expressions of astonishment and nervousness: "Can the Night's Watch stop the attack?"
"This is just a rough estimate. Among the one hundred thousand, there are old and young, dragging their families and driving livestock. At most, there might be ten thousand fighting men." Aegon raised his wine cup and drank it in one gulp: "If they attacked head-on, one hundred thousand elite soldiers couldn't even get onto The Wall. The problem the Night's Watch faces now is that The Wall is too long and the manpower is too scarce; it's impossible to defend every single point. If the Wildlings choose an undefended area to cross over and attack from both sides, we would be vulnerable."
"Then what can be done?"
Aegon gave a bitter smile: "Good question. The First Ranger's trip to Winterfell this time is precisely to discuss this issue with the Warden of the North."
A group of young people were about to ask more questions when the main characters of the banquet arrived.