This is a bizarre rule, isn't it? It's supposed to grant me many children and good fortune

A thin layer of redness appeared on Victor's face, as if it had been brushed off by the late autumn wind while riding a horse or carriage.

At this moment, his brows were slightly furrowed, and his expression was somewhat serious.

He was wearing a dark gray coat with a silver brooch pinned to his collar. The brooch was old-fashioned but polished to a shine.

When he entered the restaurant, his gaze swept around the long tables, and everyone whose eyes fell upon them stopped chewing and straightened their backs.

He then took his seat in the main seat.

Vivian sat in the first seat to his left.

She had already eaten dinner and was idly swinging her legs.

Hearing Victor's footsteps coming from the direction of the corridor, she grabbed the half-empty bottle of honey grapefruit tea on the table (yes, Lin Feng had given her another bottle) and stuffed it into the folds of her skirt.

When Victor turned into the room, she was already sitting up straight, her hands neatly folded on her knees.

"This afternoon, you all completed the relocation of the armor in the West Wing Hall."

Victor picked up the glass in front of him; the pale beer gleamed murkyly in the candlelight.

"These seven sets of armor are ancestral heirlooms. The relocation process was complicated and had many rules. Your ability to complete it successfully is commendable and deserves a toast."

He raised his glass.

"Thanks for your hard work."

Everyone raised their glasses.

Victor said no more and began to eat slowly.

Halfway through his meal, he suddenly stopped, gently placed his knife and fork on the edge of his plate, picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth, then folded it and put it back on the table.

He tilted his head slightly and looked to the side: "Butler Leng."

Leng Meng immediately lowered her head and replied, "Yes."

Victor leaned back in his chair and casually beckoned with his finger.

A servant immediately stepped forward and handed over a thick ledger with both hands.

Victor turned to a page, his fingertip pausing on the "Flour and Oats" section, and he looked up with a half-smile:

"Butler Leng, I heard the miller in town complaining that oats have fallen to 3 peculiar coins per pound."

"Why is it that this ledger records 5 ghost coins?"

"Could it be... that the rumors I heard were fabricated specifically to deceive me?"

Leng Meng replied neither humbly nor arrogantly, "Young Master, the price of 3 ghost coins you heard in town should refer to the 'second-grade oats' piled up in the mill square."

"Those oats were indeed a little damp from the continuous rain, so the merchants sold them off cheaply."

"But I know that you and everyone in the castle have discerning palates and can't stand even a hint of musty smell, so I made a special trip to a well-established shop in the dock area to buy the first-harvest oats that were just dried this season."

"Although it's two more expensive, the porridge made with it tastes better than any of the cheaper ones."

Victor raised an eyebrow slightly and looked up at Leng Meng:

"First-pressed oats? You're the butler, not the mistress of the castle."

"I should be the one to decide what level of goods to buy, not you to try to impress me by spending more of my money."

"If your loyalty is shown by squandering my money, then I'm truly 'touched' by it."

Victor casually tapped the ledger page with his fingertips:

"Since you think these two extra ghost coins are for my own good, then you can bear the consequences of this 'good intention' yourself."

"I will deduct double the amount from your salary next month."

Leng Meng bit her lower lip and remained silent.

The hall was completely silent. The chosen ones dared not even breathe, keeping their eyes down and their minds focused, afraid of getting involved in the slightest trouble.

Lin Feng shook his head helplessly, picked up his wine glass, took a sip, and broke the silence:

"I say, Mr. Victor, why make such a fuss over such a trivial matter?"

"I've also tried the oatmeal porridge at the castle, and it's indeed rich and flavorful, befitting the castle's ambiance."

He put down his wine glass and took out a gold coin from his pocket—this coin was worth a thousand ghost coins, which was a considerable sum in this era.

He rose from the table, walked over to Victor, bowed slightly, and steadily placed the gold coin on the page of the ledger:

"I know you're being meticulous for the sake of the castle, but in my eyes, it's just a trivial matter of a hundred or two ghost coins."

"Since I've already eaten the oats, I should pay for the extra cost."

Lin Feng looked at Victor and added with a smile, "Even if it's just to cover our food rations for the next few days, it's not too much to ask, is it?"

Victor stared at the gleaming gold coin pressed against the ledger, his fingertips unconsciously clenching slightly.

Even for the castle's owner, a single gold coin is a considerable windfall, enough to equal the annual salary of several servants.

But this greed was fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the arrogance of someone in a superior position.

He didn't rush to take the gold coin, but instead looked up and sized up Lin Feng again, as if he were getting to know this seemingly casual "guest" for the first time.

"Mr. Lin," Victor chuckled, his fingers tapping idly on the table, "there's a limit to how lavish you can be."

"The difference of just two ghost coins is nothing in the vast accounts of the castle. I certainly wouldn't let my men starve for such a small amount of money."

As he spoke, he leaned back slightly, adopting an air of indifference towards money:

"However, since Mr. Lin values ​​this culinary pleasure so much, and insists on demonstrating your 'gentlemanly manners' and 'generosity' in this way..."

"If I were to rigidly refuse, it would seem old-fashioned and make me appear as the host who doesn't know how to treat guests."

After saying that, Victor slowly extended his slender fingers, gently pressed the gold coin, and gracefully slid it into his palm.

Then, he glanced at Leng Meng, who was still looking down and biting her lip, and a faint mockery appeared on his lips:

"See, Butler Leng? This is what you call decorum, Mr. Lin."

"In the future, don't just focus on the petty gains in front of you. Learn from their spirit of not caring about the cost when it comes to quality."

After saying that, Victor calmly closed the ledger and put the gold coin worth 1000 ghost coins into his pocket, as if it were just a pebble picked up by the roadside, as if it were perfectly natural and justified.

As Victor pocketed the gold coins, the suffocating pressure in the air finally dissipated.

Leng Meng finally loosened her tightly clenched lower lip, leaving a pale mark and even a trace of blood seeping out, but she seemed completely unaware of it.

She slowly raised her head, and a faint ripple flickered across her eyes, which were usually calm and collected, only knowing how to calmly execute orders.

Leng Meng didn't offer any polite thanks, but simply bowed respectfully in Lin Feng's direction in silence.

Just then, a system notification sounded in Lin Feng's ear:

[Ding! Leng Meng's favorability towards the host +15]

Current favorability rating: 55/100