Deloris's carriage was parked at the door. Her plump and white hand was placed on the window, and an emerald green ring was as bright as water. The base was covered with pure gold, which was very suitable for her green eyes. She caressed the curtains casually and looked at the yard. After a while, she turned her head and said to the maid beside her: "Yuri attaches great importance to this slave."

The personal maid whispered: "Madam, see, is it because of Viscount Herron..."

"Don't call him viscount." Deloris's eyes turned cold and he said sternly.

A person who betrayed the Braden family was not qualified to be treated with respect by her servants.

The maid changed her words and lowered her hands respectfully: "I mean Helun."

"Maybe," Deloris slowly narrowed his eyes, looked at the young man in the yard bent down, and kissed the boy's toes with almost respect. "Yuri is kind and not much wary - but the same thing must not happen again."

She loosened her hands and lowered the curtain.

"Tomorrow morning," she ordered slowly, "send me a letter home."

The night was already deep, and there were not many pedestrians on the street, only the exchange was still lit. The waiting carriages were all decorated in a magnificent row and stopped in front of the door. Deloris looked back and knew very well what was auctioned on the exchange at this time - but she clearly saw these darkness clearly, but she was unwilling to bring Chuchu’s adult nephew into such darkness.

When the boy finally got on the car, Deloris leaned out and reached out to test the temperature of the boy's hand - the delicate and smooth hand had already cooled down. The boy blinked, and even his platinum eyelashes were covered with thin frost at night.

"You shouldn't have come in person," she said with a hint of blame. Seeing that the other party had lost his cloak, she immediately frowned even more, "Where is your cloak?"

Just now, Kou Qiu didn't dare to say such words directly when he saw my man pouring cold water.

He had no choice but to raise his jaw and said lightly: "It's dirty, so I took it off."

"Nothing!" said Deloris, "You are in poor health, what if you catch a cold?"

Kou Qiu curled the corners of his lips, smiled, and said, "My aunt is too worried, how could I be so delicate?"

At this time, he didn't know how big a flag he had set up.

He had learned from the people on the exchange that after a brief renovation, the next day, the purchased slaves would be sent to his mansion. Kou Qiu leaned in the carriage, thinking about his lover's current appearance, he didn't know whether he was happy or sad in his heart.

Joy is natural, and the bond between him and this person becomes deeper and deeper. Now there is no need for certain specific words or things, and you can tell the other person out of the crowd at a glance.

There are also sadness. Young people can become slaves. Obviously, in the days before this, they lived a life of food and clothing, and they didn’t know how much hardship they had suffered. When he put his cloak on the other party, he even saw obvious disbelief in the other party’s eyes.

Kou Qiu felt a little distressed.

[But no matter how sad you feel, you can't show it too clearly.] The system reminds him, [This world is not our socialist harmonious society, and many people still believe in witchcraft. If you really treat yourself as the successor of socialism, you will be pushed to the guillotine in a few days!]

【…】Old Cadre Kou did not speak, but Old Cadre Kou was frustrated.

What is the difference between a day when you cannot serve the people and a salted fish?

The Blyden family's mansion was built on the west side, hidden in the shade of green trees, and built majestic and grand. The purchased slaves were all loaded into carriages, rolled across the road, and drove all the way through neatly trimmed trees to the mansion. About a dozen people sat in the car, most of whom were hanging their heads without saying a word, and hurriedly pulled their worn clothes on their bodies, wondering what else they would encounter next.

Many of them have been turned around in the hands of different masters many times. The masters with special habits have seen them before, but the slaves are the lowest class in this country, and even the servants who serve the same people are nobler than them. If the servants serve them well, they have the opportunity to start a family and start a business alone, but the slaves cannot get married or get married. Their feelings and even their bodies are in the hands of the master.

A beautiful female slave stroked her belly and couldn't help but sobbed in a low voice. The others clearly heard her voice, but they just leaned against the wall of the car, without saying a word, and their expression was so cold that it was almost numb.

Among the people in this group, the young man was the only one who was different. His fingers were always pressed on his lips, as if he had even trimmed his light golden hair, revealing his handsome and clean face. His other hand firmly protected a package, slowly smelling the smell on his lips, as if he wanted to find the breath left by the young master from above.

"I, I don't want to go!"

As the car got closer and closer, the girl finally seemed to be unable to hold it anymore and burst into tears.

"I don't want to fall into the hands of these demons again - they should all die, they should all die!"

Before she finished speaking, she felt a chill suddenly in her neck, and her hair with small twigs of fists beside her cheeks fell in response to the wind. The girl's figure shivered suddenly, and she couldn't say a word, so she just raised her head in a daze.

The young man opposite had a silver-gray eyes that were filled with a huge iceberg that could not melt. The color there was so shocking that she was panicked. He had no expression on his face, but his eyes seemed to be looking at an enemy with an irreconcilable hatred.

"Don't let me hear you say this again," he stood up, slowly retracted the thing that had just been thrown out, put it back into his palm, and sat down, "Otherwise, it won't be hair next time."

The girl's fingertips were scared to death, and for a moment she felt the huge panic arising from her heart. She turned her head and did not dare to look at the young man's eyes anymore.

They were greeted by the butler who had been at the Braden's house for nearly forty years. Although he was old, his back was still straight. His snow-white shirt was washed straight, his black tuxedo was buttoned meticulously, and his cuffs were neatly worn with obsidian cufflinks. He opened the pocket watch on his chest, then raised his eyes again and glanced at the group of newcomers in front of him.

Even a slow person can feel the scrutiny in his eyes.

"Who is the last person the young master bought yesterday?" he said slowly.

The young man with silver-gray eyes took a step forward.

"It's you?"

The butler glanced at him and noticed that the other party had obviously had a fighting temperament, and he became more and more displeased. He put the letter from Deloris that he received today into the depths of his pocket and said lightly: "Come with me."

The young man was led all the way to the dark and wet ground, with a full pot of clothes waiting to be washed. The slave working next to him raised his eyelids and looked down, then quickly lowered his head and continued to work. The housekeeper stood at the door and ordered: "These clothes must be cleaned in the morning. Otherwise, you will have no need to stay at the Blyden's house."

The young man paused, then bowed and stopped talking.

He didn't complain a little, so he rolled up the sleeves at his sleeves and stood in front of the pile of clothes.

——It's just work.

Compared to those days when he had no peace of mind and needed to fight to make a fortune, he no longer knew where his happiness was. Even working in this house, he could occasionally see the noble young master.

His master.

The slave beside him looked up carefully. Seeing that the butler had walked away, he leaned over and asked in a low voice: "What's your name?"

The young man said: "I don't have a name."

The slave was surprised: "Your parents haven't named you yet?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he thought of something, and laughed dryly and interrupted, "This is normal. Many of us don't have names, or if we do well, we can get one for our master."

The young man's silver-gray eyelashes trembled, his eyes gradually became a little vague, and he didn't know what he was thinking. After a while, he suddenly said, "Young Master...will you give the slave a name?"

"Young Master?" The person standing next to him was stunned, and then his expression changed, "Which young master are you talking about?"

The young man hesitated and whispered: "I don't know how many young masters there are in this mansion."

He rubbed his clothes with his powerful fingers. Out of some selfishness, he did not want to share the dazzling posture of the young master with the other party.

"Who else can?" said the slave next to him, "There is only one real master here, Master Ulysses!"

He turned his head back, still a little disbelief, "But are you all bought back by Master Ulysses? - This shouldn't be true. After experiencing such an incident, why did Master Ulysses buy people from the exchange?"

Ulysses.

This is the first time a young man has heard this name.

He chewed these four words secretly between his lips and teeth several times, feeling that this name was enough to match his master's green pupils as if it were jade. His fingers were soaked in the cold water, but the palms were burning hot, as if there was a hot tube that connected the temperature to his heart.

"Master Ulysses..." The slave beside him was rubbing his clothes, and his tone slowly became full of longing, "So, have you seen him? - I bet that you can't find such beautiful eyes and slender neck anymore, even those ladies will never have such beauty."

He is a unique rose.

The young man listened silently to the people beside him praising his master, his pupils so wet, as if he had sunk into the bottomless sea.

He worked in the house for a day and could only stay underground without any right to go up, let alone meet the delicate young master. It was not until evening when all kinds of servants were busy preparing dinner that he heard a few kitchen maids say a few words.

"The young master is sick," said one of the maids, "the housekeeper told me that I hope to prepare tonight's dinner lightly, boil it with soup, and let Baier take it upstairs."

"Young Master is sick?"

Another maid said in surprise, "No wonder I didn't see him downstairs today. Has the doctor been here?"

"Bayer said he was having fever," sighed the maid who had spoken before, "I'm afraid he just came back last night and got a little cold..." Before she could finish her words, she glanced at the young man standing in the corner of the wall, and couldn't help but scolded, "What are you still standing there? Don't work?"

The young man, who was like a sculpture, then moved his steps, lifted his heavy feet again, and walked towards the place where he worked.

He was absent-minded in his remaining work. He was clearly slashing firewood in his hands, but his mind had long been floating where he had been.

It was not until this time that he hated himself as a low-ranking slave.

If he was not a slave, even if he was just a servant, he would have the opportunity to open the door and see how his master was lying on the hospital bed. He might be able to approach the sacred bed, slowly hold the other person's back, let him sit up, and get his loose collars in order for his young master-

But he was just a slave.

The young man's actions became heavier.

The winter is short, and shortly after dinner, the owner of the house went back to the room to rest. The young man slowly walked into the small room where he was resting, but suddenly heard a cough and turned around. It was the butler standing at the door.

"You go up now," said the housekeeper, "exhale the stoves on the first and second floors, pick out all the waste firewood and throw them away-be careful not to dirty the carpet, and never wake the owner up."

This is a thankless job and cannot be seen by the master. He also needs to kneel on the ground and carefully dig out the ashes. Only slaves with low status will do it. But when the young man heard this, his body suddenly trembled, and something seemed to flash in his eyes quickly.

He reluctantly held his trembling finger, stood at the dividing distance between darkness and light, and whispered: "Yes."

The butler looked at him in surprise, as if he had noticed his strange attitude; but even the butler who had seen all the Fengshuang didn't know what the light was in the young man's eyes, so he had to wave his hand and signal the other party to hurry up.

The young man, carrying a bucket and a small shovel, disappeared at the end of the stairs in a blink of an eye.

There were only a few candles in the hall, and the jumping candlelight made his body long. He quickly dispose of all the stoves on the first floor, and then paused without making any sound, and stepped onto the steps to the second floor.

There were soft embroidered carpets under my feet, as if I had stepped into the clouds.

The fireplace was in the study room on the second floor. The young man silently wiped it out and looked at the corridor. There was no one in the corridor, quiet.

He slowly took out the tools in his hand, hesitated for a while, then washed his hands with the water in the bucket, and approached another room.

On the sign hanging on the door, it was clearly written "Ulysses".

"Master," his hand gently knocked on the door and whispered, "Master?"

......

No response.

The young man seemed to have a deep fire ignited in his eyes, and then he put his hands on the door and turned it gently.
To be continued...