Wang Xian turned around. Zhao Hu, the steward of the servants' hall, stood in the kitchen doorway with his hands on his hips.
A middle-aged man with a face full of flabby flesh, he took pleasure in abusing the servants and was staring coldly at Wang Xian.
"What are you spacing out for? Why have you only carried one load of water? Trying to slack off?" Zhao Hu snapped.
Wang Xian froze, but instantly remembered what was going on. He quickly hid the sharpness in his eyes. "Oh, I'll go right back to carrying water."
"Hmph!"
Zhao Hu snorted. "Remember, you're just a servant. Stop dreaming of making it big!"
He walked over and kicked over the bucket beside Wang Xian. "You spilled this water. Go fetch more!"
Clear stream water splashed across the ground and onto Wang Xian... If Wuyue hadn't spoken up in his mind, he would have nearly lost control.
Clenching his fists, he simply nodded, his expression indifferent. "I'll go now."
As he turned to leave, he heard Zhao Hu's smug laughter and the other servants whispering.
"That kid sure knows how to take it."
"I heard he offended the Valley Master. He'll never get back on his feet in this life."
"Shh, keep your voice down. Don't let him hear you..."
Wang Xian paid them no mind and silently headed for the mountain stream.
Since he'd chosen to be a servant, this kind of humiliation was only to be expected... unless he went back and obediently became Baili Shuangmo's disciple.
At first, he'd still get angry. Now, he simply pretended not to see or hear.
"Was it a mistake to come here and be a servant?" Wang Xian asked inwardly.
"What else? You want to become that woman's disciple, then marry her daughter?"
Wuyue chuckled.