Training Phrolova (Part Two)

The air fell silent for a second.

Luna looked down at the clothes on the ground, then looked up at Phrolova, and the smile on her lips widened even further.

She slowly walked forward, stepped on the clothes on the ground, and then moved close to Phrolova, so close that they could count each other's eyelashes.

"Okay, that's unique."

Luna's voice was low, tinged with an indescribable excitement, "But I have to make this clear. Being a maid in Montelli is fine; you can have a personality, but only if the master allows it. If the master doesn't allow it, your personality will only get you slapped."

She straightened up, turned around, took a small silver bell from the cabinet, and waved it in front of Phrolova. The bell made a crisp sound, like teasing a cat.

"Have you seen this before? It's worn around the neck. It makes a jingling sound when you walk, a really nice sound." Luna tilted her head, smiling at her. "We don't tolerate idlers here. If you don't want to learn, I'll hand you over to Steward Lucia. She's not as easy to talk to as I am."

Phrolova scoffed, "You call that being easy to talk to?"

"Otherwise what?" Luna shrugged. "I haven't even made you lick the floor yet."

Phrolova's lips pressed into a thin line.

Looking at her expression, Luna suddenly clapped her hands, as if she had thought of a brilliant idea.

She leaned closer to Phrolova, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I've thought of a job that's perfect for you. We have a few chickens in the kitchen, and we need to feed them three times a day and clean up their droppings. You can go and keep them company. You can come back and learn to be a maid whenever you've thought it through. How about that? Isn't that thoughtful?"

Phrolova didn't speak, but she took half a step back.

Luna reacted swiftly, grabbing her arm with surprising strength.

She held Phrolova in one hand and pulled a white apron from the closet with the other.

"Don't run away. You're the one the young master assigned me, so I have to teach you something. Come on, let me take you for a walk in the kitchen first, so you can get to know those chickens. Once you've gotten some of the smell on you, come back and change your clothes; it'll be even better then."

Phrolova was dragged outside by her, her steps unsteady.

Her face was filled with humiliation, but now that she had lost all her strength, she couldn't break free from Luna.

Luna hummed a little tune as she walked, which sounded like an old-fashioned melody praising the sun, a tune completely out of sync with her behavior.

"You'll definitely like it there. The air is fresh, and the view is great, though the chicken manure smell is a bit strong. But it's okay, you'll get used to it. Once you get to know them, they might even follow you to lay their eggs."

Luna dragged Phrolova through the long corridor and turned into a small courtyard on the side of the kitchen.

Before you even get close, the smell of feed and chicken manure hits you.

Several speckled chickens were leisurely pecking at the ground, leaving behind piles of their "masterpieces" scattered throughout the yard.

"We're here." Luna released her grip and gestured for the chickens to go. "Go on, say hello to your new colleague."

Phrolova stood there, his face ashen.

She has lived for hundreds of years; when has she ever suffered such an insult?

She never even went into the kitchen, let alone chicken manure.

Now this blond girl dressed as a maid is actually making her feed the chickens and even smell chicken droppings.

"What's wrong? Can't you move your legs?" Luna tilted her head to look at her, her smile like that of a tutor giving a struggling student a lesson. "It's okay, I'll help you."

As she spoke, she went around behind Phrolova, placed her hands on her shoulders, and pushed her forward.

Phrolova struggled, but the inhibitor was too restrictive; her strength was now no different from that of an ordinary, weak girl.

Luna pushed her all the way to the edge of the chicken coop, and she almost stepped on something soft and mushy.

"Come on, let's get acquainted with them first." Luna smiled so sweetly that her back teeth were showing.

Phrolova turned her face away, her nose wrinkled so much it could trap a mosquito. The smell was so strong it made her eyes red.

"I've brought some new chickens for you all, come and get to know them." Luna clapped her hands at the flock of chickens, and the few speckled chickens actually raised their heads and strode over towards her.

Phrolova froze completely.

She wasn't afraid of chickens; she was afraid she wouldn't be able to control herself and would strangle these feathered beasts.

But she couldn't use any of her abilities right now, and could only let the stench slowly seep into her nose.

"That expression isn't right," Luna peeked out from behind, looking at her tense profile. "Be friendly to your colleagues. Come on, smile."

Phrolova ignored her. She clenched her teeth, her lips so tightly pressed together that they paled in color.

"Not laughing? Fine." Luna nodded, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Then let's be more direct. See that fresh puddle on the ground? Go squat down and smell it."

Phrolova whirled around, her eyes so cold they seemed to smother the courtyard with snow. "Say that again."

"Smell, smell, smell." Luna repeated each word clearly, her tone light and cheerful, her eyes like she was teasing a ruffled cat. "Tell me your impressions after you've smelled them. This is part of the maid training. Only by fully understanding the scent of every creature in the manor can you better serve the young master."

Phrolova didn't move.

Her shoulders were trembling slightly, whether from anger or nausea, it was hard to tell.

Seeing her like this, Luna didn't soften at all; instead, she became even more excited.

She walked over to Phrolova and reached out to press her hand against the back of her head.

"What are you trying to do?!" Phrolova's voice finally cracked slightly.

"I'll lend you a hand," Luna said.

She pressed her arm down, causing Phrolova's upper body to bend over.

The pungent smell hit her face like a wall, and she could almost feel the hot, foul odor burning from her nasal cavity all the way down to her throat.

Her face drew closer and closer to the ground, and the yellowish-white mass grew larger and larger in her vision, its edges still emitting wisps of heat.

"You... you let me go!"

Phrolova finally couldn't hold on any longer.

Her voice trembled, her body trembled, and at that moment her pride was rubbed into the ground by a pile of chicken droppings.

She gritted her teeth, trying hard not to make any more embarrassing sounds, but tears were already streaming uncontrollably from the corners of her eyes.

"What did you say? I can't hear you." Luna didn't loosen her grip; instead, she pressed it down another half inch.

Phrolova's nose was less than a fist's distance from the lump of something.

She craned her neck with all her might and shouted, "I was wrong! Let me go! I'll learn from you! I'll learn anything!"

Luna released her grip.

Phrolova slumped to the ground as if his bones had been removed, his chest heaving violently, his face deathly pale.

She turned her head away in a fluster, not wanting Luna to see the tear stains that hadn't quite dried at the corners of her eyes, but Luna had already seen them, and seen them clearly.

"Why didn't you do this earlier?"

Luna squatted down, took a clean handkerchief out of her pocket, and handed it to her.

Phrolova didn't take it. Luna wasn't annoyed; she put the handkerchief away, stood up again, and dusted off her hands.

"Now that you've figured it out, come back with me to change your clothes. Remember what you said today; when you're in front of the young master, don't act like you're about to die. The young master likes obedient girls, and he also likes pretty girls. You have one of those qualities now; if you improve the other, you might still have a chance to survive."

Phrolova sat on the ground, head bowed, her long hair falling down from both sides, obscuring most of her face.

Her fingers dug deep into the soil, and her whole body trembled.

After a long while, she slowly stood up from the ground.

Her legs were still a little weak, but she didn't let Luna help her and steadied herself.

Luna looked at her and nodded in satisfaction. "That's more like it. Come on, go wash your hands first, they stink. Then I'll teach you how to serve tea to the young master."

Phrolova followed behind her without saying a word, his steps heavy as if he were walking on knife points.

Her tears had dried, but a trace of red remained at the corner of her eye.

In all her years, this was the first time she had been forced to smell chicken droppings by having her head held down.

She never imagined in her life that the word "humiliation" could be so deeply ingrained in her bones.

What she didn't expect was that this was just the beginning.

Luna led Phrolova back to the side hall and tossed her a brand-new maid outfit.

This time, Phrolova didn't argue and took the clothes into the changing room.

It took quite a while before the door reopened.

She stood in the doorway, wearing a black and white short skirt suit, with white over-the-knee socks that made her legs look straight, and even the ties of her apron were tied neatly.

"Hey, that's pretty much how you look." Luna circled around her, patting her on the back. "Stand up straight, chest out, chin tucked in. You're a maid in Montelli now, not some young lady."

Phrolova did as instructed without expression.

She had figured it out: resisting before the Resonance Suppressor was removed would only make her look worse.

Rather than being forced to smell chicken droppings, she'd rather endure it for now. Once her strength returns, she'll shove this Luna's face into the pigsty.

Luna didn't care what she was thinking.

She glanced at the time, then slapped her forehead. "Oh right, the young master also said he wanted to eat. Come on, let's go to the kitchen."

The kitchen was much cleaner than the back kitchen; the stove was so clean you could see your reflection in it.

Luna took a lump of rested dough from the dough rack, then took out a rolling pin and a cutting board, her movements as practiced as a master craftswoman who had been making them for decades.

"Watch closely. The young master loves ramen. The noodles have to be pulled very thin, the broth must be thick and rich, and the toppings have to be arranged beautifully. You're new here, so I don't expect you to be an expert. You'll be my assistant for now. You know how to wash vegetables, right?"

Phrolova didn't say anything, but walked to the sink, turned on the tap, and started washing the vegetables.

Her movements were slow, as if every single leaf of vegetable was her nemesis.

Luna was busy slapping, kneading, and pulling the dough on the cutting board, all the while directing Phrolova to hand her this and that.

"Bring over that bowl of chopped scallions. And the soy sauce, not that one, the one on the left. Hurry up, the noodles are almost done."

Phrolova did as instructed, his face expressionless.

While Luna turned around to adjust the soup base, she glanced down at the lump of raw dough left on the cutting board.

The white dough lay there quietly, limp and lifeless, like a lump of trash to be kneaded. Her fingers slowly clenched.

She grabbed the lump of dough and slammed it to the ground.

The dough hit the floor tiles with a dull thud.

Then she took off one shoe, lifted her foot, and stomped on it forcefully.

"I'll let you eat noodles! I'll let you eat! I'll let you eat! Eat!"

She gritted her teeth, each step feeling like she was stepping on Kexi's hateful face.

The noodles were flattened into a sticky puddle under her feet, clinging to the floor tiles.

She was stomping along enthusiastically when a voice suddenly sounded behind her.

What are you doing?