October is coming to an end, and business in Xianyang Loutai is getting worse and worse.

Lacking the support of dignitaries and nobles, the nobles of the family only relied on commoners and wealthy merchants.

The beauty of the building, the concubine's body is empty every day, and she can't be filled once a day.

The jade arms of thousands of pillows can only be pillowed, and the red lips tasted by thousands of people can only be tasted by themselves, and the beauties who are as beautiful as flowers are panicked.

The building is a government institution, there is a performance appraisal, and the beauty who does not meet the monthly workload standard cannot stay in the building.

The concubines, who have a much lower status than the beauties, do not have this kind of trouble, they have no assessment.

Their lives are clearly marked and not protected by Qin Law, and they may be strangled to death, tortured to death at any time.

This is not the Maison's counterattack against Ying Cheng, but just self-preservation.

Everyone goes to the balcony to relax and indulge, and no one wants to appear in front of people, so that when they are teachers, they can think about what they can and can't say.

On the second floor of the building, in the steward's room.

The pretty steward with half a pound of flesh on her chest was full of sorrow, but she still forced a smile and sincerely congratulated the man who had just walked in and was dressed as a servant.

The man who still had a finger of terrifying scar on his chest and back said slightly, with a humble, flattering face on his face.

Talking and nodding like a poor pug.

"Don't be in charge and praise ......"

"You're not a subordinate anymore."

The steward looked at the man pitifully and reminded him.

Words are like a breeze, blowing away the haze in the hearts of men who have long been accustomed to being subordinates.

"yes, I'm not a subordinate anymore."

The man muttered to himself, slowly straightened his back, he was very difficult, like carrying a thousand pounds of burden.

Boom~

The man seemed to hear the sound of the perennial bent ridge in the body straightening, the sound of friction between bones was so pleasant, and the sound of broken vertebrae was so beautiful.

Two lines of tears unconsciously slipped from his eyes, and he was completely unconscious.

"Cry a lot!"

The Qin people did not recognize tears.

The performance of the building is poor.

The steward who was in a bad mood saw the man crying, and felt a little pitiful, but even more unproductive.

I'm going to be sentenced to prison and I haven't cried, you're out of slavery, you're crying!

Yue Nu's swordsmanship is unparalleled in the world, and the sword pierced the servant's body, but it only brought flesh and skin wounds to the servant, and did not hurt the servant's life.

When the servant opened his eyes again, he saw his sister, who could only say a word through the walls, week or month. His sister told him that Chang'anjun helped both of them get out of slavery.

The man said that he touched his eyes with both hands and felt tears, and only then did he realize that he had cried.

"So I can still stand up."

The man said.

He still didn't have the urge or feeling to cry, but the tears flowed down like a faucet with a switch turned on, and he couldn't stop it.

The steward looked at the man who had no emotions such as sadness and joy on his face, took off the mask of humility, and looked calm and wanted to wipe away his tears so that he would not cry anymore.

It is natural to think of the concubines in the tower who die every year, every month, every week, sometimes even every day.

Last week, a concubine who had just arrived at the balcony for less than a week was strangled to death in bed by a guest.

Double ten years, beautiful faces.

The snow-white carcass lay on the bed, but the smooth back lost the luster of life, and the concubine had a rope around her neck.

In addition to throwing the rope on the platform, the owner of the rope also dropped ten gold.

"Bad luck, it's really dead, and you wasted ten of my gold." The guests scolded impatiently.

"Why are you still playing dead? What did Brother Zhang play? "There is no respect for human life in the eyes of the companions, only curiosity about the cause of death.

"Hehe, Brother Li has never left Xianyang, only been to Xianyang Tower? This gameplay has long been spread throughout Guanzhong. This concubine picks up customers a day, with a few people and more than a dozen people.

"No matter how beautiful he is, he is loose and difficult to have passion underneath. Put a rope on its neck and tighten it, the tighter it is, the tighter it will be, it is comparable to a girl who has not been out of the cabinet......"

The body of the concubine who was strangled was collected by the steward and the steward in person, and there was no need for the guards of the building to dispose of it, and every concubine who died on the floor would be collected by the steward.

The steward remembered very well that the concubine's face was full of tears, full of longing for life, but there were no strangulation marks on her hands.

At the last moment of death, the concubine may have cried and shouted for the guests to let go.

But she never touched her neck with her hand, pulling the not-so-thick circle of death out of a little gap, she didn't dare.

There are not many secret guards in the building, except for the departed Qingmei, only the steward who was a prostitute before is left.

When the steward is a prostitute, he gets along with the prostitutes in the balcony and the concubines day and night.

The identity of the secret guard has been buried for a long time, and the identity of the prostitute has been with him for several years, and the steward has a deep affection for the building, and he has a deep affection for these prostitutes and concubines on the building.

Every time I heard that a concubine had died, the steward was very sad.

But there was only sadness, and the steward never thought of revenge.

This is not that the steward is a secret guard and has the basic quality of not revealing his body, but is limited by the basic rules of the game in this world - subordinate concubines are not people.

Not only the Qin laws stipulate this, but the laws and decrees of all regions under the world are stipulated in this way.

As long as you are born in this world, you cannot escape this rule.

The steward opened the window and looked down at the number of guests on the first floor.

Looking at those concubines who have no freedom, can't refuse, and have to accompany the guests to drink spirits with a smile as long as someone orders the menstrual affairs.

】

"You are very lucky, I have never heard of anyone who would pay for the ransom of his subordinate concubines, and this kind of thing can only be done by the monarch."

"Meeting Chang'anjun is the luckiest thing in my life." A heartfelt smile appeared on the man's face.

"I heard that Chang'anjun also gave you a name and surname."

How does the steward know? I haven't spoken to anyone since I left Chang'anjun's Mansion.

The man's heart flashed with doubts, and the joy in his heart squeezed away the doubts.

He said proudly: "Yes, Chang'an Jun gave the surname Ma, and he was listed."

Marty...... What a strange name.

The steward thought to himself, and once again said sincerely, "You are so lucky."

In this era when the vast majority of people only have a name but no surname, it is extremely proud to have a name and a surname.

"Yes."

Marxist-Leninist nodded heavily, once again affirming the stewardship, and finally there were no more tears in his eyes.

"What does Chang'an-jun want you to do?"

The steward closes the window.

"Chang'anjun wants me to stay here and tell all the beauties in the building about my deeds."

Tell all the beauties on the balcony?

The steward cast a puzzled look.

Marxist-Leninist also knew that this thing sounded a little outrageous, for fear that the steward would not believe it.

hurriedly explained: "Lie didn't see Chang'anjun, it was Chang'anjun's disciple who conveyed Chang'anjun's meaning on his behalf. Listening to the guest, Chang'anjun's original words were, 'Benjun finally did a good deed, and he didn't let the propaganda be announced?' Doing good deeds without leaving a name, how is it different from a night walk in brocade? ’”