Chapter 7 — On the Snowy Night of Bereavement, I Used the Golden Token of Immunity to Overturn the Whole Family

In the following days, life in the Co family palace became extremely "regular". It's not yet dawn, all masters must wake up like servants. Put on your own clothes, wash your face and gargle yourself. Then it's off to the dining room, eating hard-to-swallow cornflakes and bland boiled vegetables. After eating, I immediately started working. Men have to chop wood and carry water. Women have to wash and clean. These jobs were previously done by the lowest servants in the government. "That's it" But now, it has become a daily thing for young masters and ladies who are used to living comfortably. On the first day, they dared to protest and strike. Co Canh Van's wife, the second young lady, directly kicked the washing basin over.

"I am Thi Lang Bo Lai's biological niece! Do you dare to force me to do this kind of rude thing!"

She pointed at the supervisor's wife and shouted loudly. That woman was found from the family of the former ministry under his father. The husband died on the battlefield, his character was extremely determined. Without saying a word, she picked up a washing stick as big as her bicep and placed it next to her, aimed it straight at the second young lady's legs, and fiercely brought it down. The second young lady let out a miserable scream, hugged her legs and fell to the ground.

“Miss has orders.”

The lady said without expression.

"Those who don't work, don't have food to eat, and still have to be punished."

“If you dare say one more word ‘no’, the next stick… will fall on your face.”

The second young lady looked at the woman's emotionless eyes and was so scared that she didn't dare say another word. All I could do was cry, get up, and obediently wash my clothes. There is this example of "killing the chicken to scare the monkey", other people... no one dares to protest anymore. They began to learn how to split firewood, how to carry water, how to use bone-chilling river water, and how to wash piles of dirty clothes that would never be finished. Their hands quickly became filled with blisters, covered in frostbite. The skin, once smooth and white, became red and swollen, like a carrot. The back, which was once straight, is also forced to bend down by hard work day after day. The most miserable person... is the old lady. She is old and cannot do heavy work. So I "mercifully"... gave her the lightest task.

—— go clean the toilet. "what the hell, 'ay"

When she carried the compost bin and smelled the stench rising to the sky, she finally collapsed. She threw down the tools, ran to the front door of my hospital, knelt on the ground, crying and cursing.

"Hua Tri Y! You are a scoundrel who deserves to be destroyed by heaven and earth! You will not be allowed to die in peace!"

“If I become a ghost, I won't forgive you!”

At that time, I was in front of my son's grave, burning paper money for him. Hearing her curses, I never turned back. I just leisurely said one sentence to Phuc Bo next to me:

"The old lady is old and has such a strong fire... it's not good for the body."

“Pass my word, from today onwards, the old lady's rations… will be reduced by half.”

“When she learns to speak human language, please restore it.”

Phuc Ba was ordered to leave. Very quickly, the old lady's curse... turned into a plea. But I didn't want to listen anymore. I asked someone to close my hospital door tightly. No matter how miserable she is out there, screaming and crying... me Everyone pretended not to hear. And Co Canh Minh. I don't let him work. I just imprisoned him... in his own study, the most elegant place. The study room window was closed with wooden boards. Outside the door, there are four of my father's soldiers, guarding day and night. Every day, I told someone to bring him... a bowl of water, along with a dry, hard manjuum. After that, I will let someone... tell him everything that happened in the palace. Tell him that his mother slipped and fell in the toilet today, her whole body covered in filth. Tell him that, in order to fight for another mandarin, his brothers fought until their heads were torn and bleeding. Tell him that because his younger brother was lazy when washing his clothes, he was punished by kneeling in the snow for an hour and almost froze to death. I just want him to... hear clearly, see clearly. Look at how this family... because of his stupidity and arrogance, step by step... fell into hell. I want him… in endless darkness and regret, slowly… rotting, withering away. That night, I was sitting under the lamp, looking at the books of the stores under my name that Phuc Bo had just brought back. Phuc Bo stood next to him, reporting in a low voice.

“Miss, this afternoon, Co Canh Minh was in the study room, hitting the wall with his head, wanting to commit suicide.”

“It was promptly stopped by our people.”

My hand, which was flipping through the notebook, stopped slightly.

“Want to die?”

I laughed coldly.

“It's not that easy.”

“Uncle Phuc, go get some of the famous paintings from previous generations that Co Canh Minh treasured the most from the warehouse, bring them here.”

Phuc Bo paused for a moment: "Miss, what you mean is..."

"Bring it out into the yard, one by one... burn it for him to see."