She was, after all, once the daughter of an official’s family. She had seen fighting between her father’s wives and concubines before.

Towards her stepmother, this xiaojie was considered to be polite. She only asked herself to compete for favor and not to harm her stepmother.

Of course she needed to fight for favor. Even if this xiaojie did not order her to, she would still give it her all. Only with the man’s love and doting would you have a leg to stand on in the house. Finally, she had to find ways to give birth to a son. That was what she could rely on for life.

Shui YouLian sat in the carriage, thinking about life in the future, at times looking forward to it and at times apprehensive, excited, and nervous.

No matter what, she was no longer a lowly geisha. Even if she was only the yiniang of a fourth-ranked official, it was still better than being a geisha.

Zi You looked at Shui YouLian’s bright eyes and revealed a cold smile.

Wang Yiping, the gift for Mu Ying Rui on the Mid-Autumn Festival night, would make you painful enough to crave death!

The horse galloped along. They soon arrived at Great Yan’s Jingdu’s Yue Cheng, the largest slave market.

Zi You took a look and couldn’t help but be depressed. It really was a hell on earth.

Males and females, old and young, all ragged, were mostly sluggish and desperate. They were all like living dead.

Only a few innocent children cried and were noisy. They didn’t know yet their futures would no longer be innocent or carefree.

The four maidservants, who did not know why their Xiaojie wanted to come here and see the slaves’ miserable conditions, were feeling empathetic. Only Zi You expressionlessly walked towards some eight- to twelve-year-old female slaves and examined carefully.

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