Lu Youyi miraculously drew a master card. Although Jiang Luo felt a stab of resentment, a better plan formed in his mind.
He no longer tried to stop them. Instead, he pretended to be extremely displeased by a poor person drawing a master card.
“Why are there still master cards in the commoners’ box?” he demanded.
The attendant wasn’t surprised by his attitude and replied soothingly, “Sir, please understand that the results of the draw are beyond our control.”
Jiang Luo gave a cold snort and crossed his arms, standing aside. “Then I’ll just stand here and see what else they manage to draw.”
Though the group had come together, they acted as pairs and pretended to be strangers. Soon, all six of them had drawn their cards. Just as Jiang Luo expected, aside from Lu Youyi, the others all got slave cards.
Jiang Luo let out a scornful laugh. “Figures.”
Looking thoroughly uninterested, he turned to go back to the ballroom. Before leaving, he seemed to remember something and turned to ask the attendant, “What if two masters take interest in the same slave?”
“That would depend on how the two masters negotiate,” the attendant said. “There are no hard rules here—if it’s not explicitly forbidden, anything can happen. We don’t interfere.”
Then he added, “Sir, would you still like to draw again?”
Jiang Luo asked, “If I’m unhappy with the second card, can I keep drawing until I get one I like?”
The attendant shook his head. “Even for someone like you, there’s only one chance to redraw.”
“Then forget it,” Jiang Luo said bluntly. “Might as well go find the crown card I lost.”
The attendant smiled. “Then I wish you luck.”
The group split into two smaller ones and entered the hall. Soon, all eight of them had gathered in an unnoticed corner.
Wenren Lian whispered, “Did you really lose your card?”
Jiang Luo shook his head. “I drew a slave card. Claiming I lost it was just an excuse to redraw. That plan failed, but I didn’t expect it to work anyway. I had a second and third plan in place. Originally, only Ge Zhu had a master card, so I could’ve partnered with him. But the roles of master and slave can shift, so that plan wasn’t stable.”
Faced with such a precarious situation, the others couldn’t help showing concern. But Jiang Luo suddenly smiled.
“Originally, with just Ge Zhu holding a master card, I couldn’t do much. But now we’ve got two master cards. That gives us plenty of room to maneuver.”
His eyes lit up as they landed on Lu Youyi. “First, we need to make sure everyone knows that a commoner drew a master card.”
***
The wine was rich and fragrant, figures swayed in the ballroom, the sea breeze outside was brisk, but indoors it was as warm as spring.
The scent of young women mingled with the sharpness of men’s tobacco. Among the shifting crowd, the rich were clinking glasses, eyeing others like hunters sizing up prey, passing judgment with their gazes.
But a sudden commotion stirred in the crowd.
The rich looked up. “What’s going on over there?”
A waiter holding a tray replied, “A master took a liking to a commoner, but the commoner claimed they’re not a slave.”
A commoner who’s not a slave? Interesting.
The wealthy, curious, drifted over. The scene of the commotion was already surrounded. In the center stood a wealthy man with a silver mask and a thick gold chain, speaking gruffly: “You say you’re not a slave? Then show me your card.”
Lu Youyi did his best to carry out Jiang Luo’s request to attract attention. He suddenly smashed the wine glass in his hand to the floor, glared at Ge Zhu with an exaggeratedly fierce expression, and shouted, “You think I’m lying?”
Ge Zhu was startled by the shattering glass. Luckily, he was wearing a mask and managed to deliver his line, “Hurry up, let me see your card. Or are you too scared to show it?”
Lu Youyi snapped, “Why should I show it to you?”
A rich man with a beer belly, watching the scene unfold, snorted coldly, clearly convinced this was a lying slave. “Look at the wall—first rule of this place: you can’t refuse if someone asks to see your card.”
Lu Youyi’s expression changed. Just when people thought he was about to admit to lying, the commoner reluctantly pulled out his card and shoved it in Ge Zhu’s face. “Look! See? I told you I had a master card!”
He made sure the surrounding onlookers also clearly saw the card. As if worried someone might miss it, Lu Youyi held it up so long his arm grew tired before lowering it.
The rich all saw the card in his hand.
Their interest immediately deflated. One by one, they dispersed. Many whispered among themselves, their tones disapproving.
“They really let a commoner draw a master card? What kind of planning is this?”
“Just looking at that commoner’s face makes me sick. And now there’s this rotten apple mixed into our group of ‘masters.’”
Ge Zhu and Lu Youyi quietly slipped away and returned to Jiang Luo’s side.
Lu Youyi handed his card back to Jiang Luo. Jiang Luo whispered, “Take care of yourselves. Whoever needs it can use the master card in Ge Zhu’s hand. In the eyes of outsiders, you’re both now master-card holders—no one will bother you anymore. You can each protect one slave, which eases some of the danger for now. Be cautious when gathering information. As for the rest, just follow the plan.”
Jiang Luo quietly slipped back into the ball.
Once his companions were out of sight, he straightened his clothes and approached a group of elegant women chatting together, wearing a charming smile.
“Good evening, lovely ladies,” Jiang Luo lifted his chin slightly, the arc of his dark hair brushing gracefully across his shoulder. “May I join you?”
The noblewomen gave him a quick once-over, exchanged glances, and burst into delighted laughter. “Of course you may.”
Jiang Luo waved over a nearby waiter and personally handed drinks to the three ladies, smiling warmly. “What were you talking about?”
The black-haired youth gave off the air of a wealthy gentleman. But more alluring than his unknown fortune were his refined manners and striking looks. Even though half his face was concealed by a mask, those beautiful eyes and the curve of his smiling lips were stunning.
“We were just talking about beauty treatments,” one red-haired lady said uncontrollably. “Saying how youthful skin is always more supple and firm.”
Jiang Luo said in surprise, “Aren’t you in the prime of youth right now?”
The three women covered their lips, giggling again. The red-haired lady, delighted by the compliment, touched her face and tried to remain modest. “You flatter us. We boarded this ship to try to look younger. If we were truly still eighteen or twenty, we wouldn’t even need to come.”
Jiang Luo narrowed his eyes slightly and smoothly kept the conversation going.
“I wonder if the rumors about the blood eels are true,” another woman said with concern. “But look at Madam Xue—she looks twenty years younger. When I went to a massage with her, all her sagging fat was gone. She looks like a different person.”
“Her personality’s changed too. It’s enviable… I told my husband I wanted to be twenty years younger, and he just laughed at me. Look who’s on the ship now?”
“Those men didn’t board to look young. In their eyes, money means endless beauties.”
“Hah! I think the rumor that blood eels grant longevity is even more absurd than the one about beauty.”
Blood eels that grant youth and longevity and beauty.
Jiang Luo pondered silently. But instead of leaving after obtaining this information, he steered the conversation further, using it to meet and familiarize himself with several more masked wealthy attendees.
Soon, the ballroom lights suddenly went out. Three seconds later, a dim light came on, and a spotlight shone on the center of the stage. A waiter stood in the beam of light, smiling warmly at the microphone: “Everyone, the master-slave performance stage is now open!”
With a bang, a party popper burst above the waiter’s head, colorful confetti raining down from above.
The crowd below the stage burst into enthusiastic applause. Beside Jiang Luo, he heard a rich attendee exclaim excitedly, “Finally, the best part is starting.”
The server’s voice rang out, loud and full of energy: “There is only one rule on the master-slave performance stage: the ‘master’ must ensure the ‘slave’s life is not in danger. Beyond that, the stage is completely controlled by the master who holds a Crown Card! Now, is there any pair of master and slave who would like to be the first to take the stage?”
Hidden within the crowd, Kuang Zheng shielded Wenren Lian and Zhuo Zhongqiu behind him, afraid a master-card holder might pick them as their slaves.
Wenren Lian said helplessly, “Big guy.”
Kuang Zheng lowered his head. Wenren Lian looked at him sincerely and said, “You’re actually the one in more danger than us.”
Kuang Zheng: “?”
Wenren Lian patted his muscles and said meaningfully, “You don’t know how many people would want to drag a muscular guy like you onto the stage to train as a slave.”
Kuang Zheng stood there blankly for a moment, while Zhuo Zhongqiu clicked his tongue, “Wenren, that’s a pretty dangerous thought.”
Fortunately, before anyone could lay claim to them, the first master had already taken the stage with his slave.
This master-slave pair had a stark contrast in appearance. The master was a greasy old man who looked like a pig, while the slave was a curvy, timid-looking young woman.
The server walked up to the master, whispered a few words to him, then nodded. Soon after, someone handed the rich master a dog leash from the side.
The server stepped off the stage.
The rich master cleared his throat in front of the microphone and, with an affected posture, clasped his hands behind his back, his belly nearly pressing against the mic stand.
“In the past, I raised a female dog,” he said, his large yellow teeth glaring, “but that dog bit me once, so I sent her to the kitchen and she became my lunch. Today, I’ll put on a show for everyone—a scene of a well-behaved b*tch and her master.”
He looked at the young woman and grinned, his jowls shaking. “Come here. Kneel. Put on the leash.”
The woman trembled as she knelt and fastened the dog leash around her neck. The rich man pulled the leash, laughed twice, and stretched out his hand like he was calling a real dog. “Lick your master’s hand.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she obeyed.
The man dragged her around the stage for two laps, occasionally barking, “Faster!”
Zhuo Zhongqiu and the others were seething with anger as they watched. Just as they were about to carry out their plan and stir things up, they saw the young woman’s husband already trembling with rage. The next moment, he charged toward the stage. “Don’t touch her!”
The server stopped the husband. “Sorry, you’re not allowed to interrupt the master-slave performance stage.”
The watching civilians shivered at the scene, snapping out of the intoxicating dreamlike ball. They looked at the humiliated young woman on stage and felt a chill run down their spines. If it was her this time, would it be them next?
Fear and anger churned in their hearts, but they still didn’t dare to defy the rich. They stared in silence, none daring to speak. Only the husband’s furious roar echoed: “You’ve gone too far! Let her go! Let her go!”
The rich man on stage laughed uproariously at the husband’s cries, then went even further and kicked the young woman.
In the crowd of commoners, someone suddenly shouted boldly, “Why is it that most of the masters are rich, and most of us are slaves?”
Hidden in the crowd, Lu Youyi lowered his voice, “Yeah, why is that?”
With more people speaking up, the murmurs among the commoners grew louder and more chaotic.
On stage, the rich man looked like he had been publicly slapped. His face twisted with rage. Jiang Luo overheard someone beside him whisper nervously, “We still need these poor people later. What if we push them too far now?”
Another replied, though uncertain, still scoffing, “What can they do?”
Jiang Luo sneered coldly and stepped to the front of the crowd.
The rich man’s breathing grew heavier. He had been completely infuriated by the poor people’s dissent. Being the first master-slave act and already drawing civilian ire—it was humiliating. His eyes turned sinister as he looked at the young woman. She sensed the danger and shrank back in fear.
Just as the rich man grinned and raised his hand to strike her, a lazy voice rang out.
“Mr. Wilton, you may stop now.”
The rich man looked down and saw a black-haired young man in a black mask watching him with bored eyes. Though the man stood below the stage, his gaze was condescending, as if he looked down on him from above. “Your performance,” the young man said, “is far too dull.”
