No amount of cleaning could hide its dilapidated wooden house, and the inferior incense was lit: the rich smell mixed with cheap additives was already disgusting, and this god-killing effect reached a new peak when the spice was combined with the rotten aura that he was supposed to suppress rather than fornicate.

Anyway, Amber felt like she was really about to throw up.

As for the idea of the commodity itself, it is not more important than the black goat outside the window who is rummaging in the grass for the roots of the plant.

Sitting upright for long periods of time made Ample's back ache, and the loose girdle she had tied with her own hands seemed to gradually start to compress her breathing over time. The bargain between her fleshy mother and the graceful countess on the other side seemed to be endless, and Amboer's ears were filled with chatter. She stared at the burner for a moment, but the mist that came out of the hole quickly made her lose interest. Somewhat absent-mindedly, Amber suddenly looked away with some envy of the brute who was munching on the grass through the glass window.

At least you don't have to sit around like an idiot and listen to this nonsense.

“...... Ambore. Feeling his body being pushed, Amber was finally dragged back from the conjecture that he no longer knew where the fugue was: "Amboer!"

Slightly confused, she looked at her mother, who was already secretly pinching the soft flesh on her arm, and An Boer still looked a little confused for a while.

"What's wrong?"

"Why are you so rude, child, Madame has called you several times!" the peasant woman who turned her head to the countess was already full of flattery, "Madam, this girl is good at everything." You see, this shoulder, this hand, and this leg are good materials for work at first glance!

Looking at the parts of her body in order, the slender Amber couldn't figure out how she came to the conclusion that she was "a good material for work". But it doesn't matter, don't the aristocratic families come out to buy girls just to serve themselves?

"I need a maid, not a handyman. As if she did not appreciate the peasant woman's earnestness, the countess set her eyes on Amboer's face: "It's not bad to be born, and it can be considered to be out with you if you dress up well." ”

"That's, that's!" The peasant woman changed her tone of speech without even thinking, and the peasant woman never mentioned the work again: "Look at this little face, pink and pink! And this breast, this waist, this ass, not to mention serving you, even if the lord is interested one day, it is definitely qualified to take my daughter to warm the bed!"

"You don't have to worry about our family's housework. Displeasure flashed in the beautiful green pupils, the countess beckoned gently, and the servant who had been standing behind her for a long time immediately untied a small cloth bag from his waist and placed it on the table: "Sign the deed of sale, these are all yours." ”

"Okay, good!" he rubbed his hands excitedly, and the sound of the coins colliding in front of him was the most pleasant sound a peasant woman had ever heard in her life, but then she was embarrassed by the parchment roll handed to her: "Look, look, the old woman is illiterate. What can I do? What can I do?"

"If you don't know how to write, just put a fingerprint here. Turning his head to ask his master's opinion, the servant took out the ink from his pocket: "Here, here!

After tossing for a long time, the betrayal ceremony that decided where she belonged finally came to a perfect end in front of An Boer's eyes, and she participated as a bystander throughout the whole process without saying a word until the end. The servant first raised his hands in the air and shook them, then blew them close to his lips to make sure that the ink stains and mudras were really dry, and then brought the parchment to the countess.

"Will you take a look again?"

Waving her hand without squinting, the Countess stood up: "Let's go, go home." ”

The servant nodded, raised his hand and took Madame's arm and walked out. Soon the whistling of the whip and the neighing of the mount sounded outside, but Amber remained standing in the middle of the room.

"Go, go, go, go!" The moment the seller walked out of the door, the peasant woman rushed forward impatiently and hugged the bag of coins tightly in her arms, and the affection on her face would have thought that it was her daughter if she was seen by someone who did not understand. Counting the twenty silver coins with the emblem twice, she looked up again and realized that Amber had not left: "You are already from the earl's family, what are you doing here? Go quickly! Don't let the master's family wait any longer, lest you have time to eat the whip! I can't protect you!"

Amber rubbed on this for a while, in fact, just to see what price his biological mother sold him for. The price of twenty silver coins was much higher than the average price of the slave market, and she felt that she really had nothing to be dissatisfied with. After the last thought, without waiting for the other party to urge the second time, An Boer turned around and stepped forward, without any nostalgia.

Whether it is the house that once gave her eaves to shelter from the rain, or the mother who treats the blood of her children as goods.

The door of the carriage was open, and the servant standing nearby motioned for Amber to get on the carriage as well. The moment she stepped on the pedal and sat down across from the countess, Amber swept the black goat again, which she remembered as if it was one of the price the Count's family had paid for herself.

I'm worth twenty silver coins and a sheep, which is not bad.

She thought.