Let go of that monster girl!

"you!"

She lowered her head and arched her body forward, trying to use the two small horns on her forehead to push against Morren's direction.

The tip of the corner barely grazed the edge of Morren's trouser leg before it could no longer reach him.

"Gu, kill me!"

Fox Seventeen grinned mischievously and pulled out another feather.

Two feathers landed on Robert's soles at the same time, one on the left and one on the right, waving alternately with different rhythms.

Robert's body twisted and turned, laughter and sobs squeezed out of her throat as she shouted:

"You can't treat me like this! I am the Duchess of Carrot Ridge!"

"Oh."

Molen deliberately dragged out his words.

"Everyone in the Carrot family knows about this now. Carrot Territory has been destroyed. Although Miss Robert suffered a crushing defeat, she bravely sacrificed herself for the honor of the family against the enemy of the state religion, and has washed away all the previous shame."

Molen bent down slightly, leaned closer, and his voice became exceptionally gentle.

"The Carrot family must be overjoyed to learn that Miss Robert is still alive."

"And we'll give you a hero's welcome. Or shall we send Miss Robert back now?"

Robert's expression turned extremely ugly, much uglier than when she was being tickled.

Just like Morren's words, they punctured something truly soft about this bulletproof pony.

She stared wide-eyed at Morren, biting her lower lip, curling her entire body up to its limit under the rope.

then.

Tears welled up instantly, and snot followed, making her little face scrunch up.

"You're all bullying me! Waaaaah!"

"You, you all bullied me!! Waaaaaah!!"

Chapter 141 How to Tame a Wild Horse

Molen picked up a book from the bookshelf.

How to Tame a Wild Horse?

In the Middle Ages, the answer to this question was very simple: just beat them up.

"Spare the rod and spoil the child." Tie her up, whip her, pin her to the ground, and lock her in a dark, sunless basement. Through constant pain and fear, drive her to a mental breakdown and force her to submit.

From the prehistoric times to the present day, the custom of wild horse catching festivals still exists in some parts of the kingdom. These festivals are lively and provide a steady stream of excellent goods for unscrupulous fox merchants.

Of course, if the horse could pick up the machete by itself, this would probably not be considered a very safe operation.

Molen closed the book, and Fox Seventeen came over, wagging its big brown tail.

“We’re experts in this field, if our dearest Baron is willing.”

Do you know Shang Yang?

What does she sell?

Molen decided to drop the subject.

As early as the 12th century, a seasoned female horse trainer, Knight Jordana Rufus, published the famous "Equine Medicine," which formed the prototype of modern horse training.

He divided the horse training process into three stages: "accepting the reins," "accepting the touch," and "accepting riding," transforming horse training from a physics problem into a psychology problem.

Knight Rufus advocated that one should emulate the leadership style of older mares in a herd, acting as an equal and loving mother, building trust through verbal communication and physical contact.

Using this new technique, he trained a large number of excellent and loyal racehorse girls and made a fortune.

He left behind a series of works, including "Horse Girl Touching Guide", "Handbook for Coordinating Horse Relationships", "Nighttime Self-Defense Techniques", and "Basement Escape Techniques".

And at the height of his fame, he withdrew from public life, and to this day, no one knows where he went.

Now, this is Miss Robert's first step in her labor reform.

-----------------

Worker Rat's Dining Hall.

Fluorite lanterns hung from the low rock ceiling of the dining hall, illuminating the mouse girls busy eating below.

Robert sat on a small stool that was obviously too short for her, her legs bent, knees raised high, her little feet not daring to touch the ground, and a bowl of yellowish-brown porridge in front of her.

She held a spoon in one hand to her mouth, wiping away tears with the other.

Her nose was red, her eyes were red, she was sobbing and gasping for breath, and her mouth was full of mush as she cried.

Her hair was a mess, like a bird's nest, with a few thin twigs tangled in it. She had changed into a work uniform similar to the one worn by the worker rat, but it was a size too small and clung tightly to her leg muscles.

The left lens of her glasses was broken when it was retrieved from the camp, so much so that it was crooked on her nose. A wooden sign hung around her neck with the four large characters "No Feeding" written in red ink.

She wasn't wearing shoes.

Robert's chubby little feet dangled over the edge of the bench, the soles of her feet still flushed a faint pink, and the places where she had been scratched by the feathers were still incredibly sore.

As soon as her toes touched the cold stone floor, she flinched and quickly pulled her foot back.

"Bullying people..."

Robert sniffed, muttered something under his breath, and then stuffed another large spoonful of paste into his mouth.

The area was filled with mouse girls eating, each one barely reaching Robert's mouth. They were chewing and playing noisily, and not many mice noticed this strange little giant. They were all squeaking and chattering.

Robert cried for a while, then ate a bite; cried for a while, then ate another bite.

The mouse girls would laugh for a while, take a bite, laugh for a while, and then take another bite.

A series of creaking wheels sounded as several worker mice wearing aprons pushed a small cart out of the kitchen, with a large copper pot with its lid open on it.

"Does anyone else want some paste?"

The surrounding rat girls all waved their hands.

Robert raised her little hand.

The worker mouse on the cart picked up a large spoon, scooped up a full spoonful of grayish-brown paste, and poured it onto Robert's plate with a splat.

The paste was spread out, and a few bubbles appeared on the surface before it slowly collapsed, making it look really unappetizing.

But Robert just wiped away her tears again, then buried her head and started eating voraciously.

She has to finish the plate before the cart leaves, so she can have another spoonful.

The surrounding mouse girls stopped cooking and watched as Robert devoured the second plate of paste with astonishing speed, then began working on the third.

She ate three plates of this awful porridge in one go!

The worker mouse used a large spoon to scoop a full spoonful of food into her plate, then pushed the cart away with an admiring expression.

Robert's plate was just a mess of mush, completely bare.

Beside the rat girls' plates were sugar cubes, small cups of sweet wine, small dishes of dried radish, and some even had a small spoonful of steaming stewed meat.

Robert closed the eye with the broken lens, looked at her own plate, and then turned to look at the mouse's plate next to her.

Look at the plate.

Look at the mouse's plate.

In twos and threes, groups of mouse girls carrying various foods walked past Robert, including tangy dried radishes and steaming stews.

Robert's eyes followed the plates, and she stopped eating with the spoon in her mouth.

She stared intently at the golden-yellow dried radish that the mouse next to her was putting into its mouth, without moving an inch.

She even forgot to continue crying.

The gray-haired mouse girl next to her noticed Robert's gaze, looked down at the contents of her plate, then at Robert's plain plate, and pushed her food towards Robert.

"Big sister, would you like some of this?"

"Thanks…"

Robert sniffed.

"No way!"

Another mouse girl stretched out her little hand from the opposite side and precisely moved the small cup of sweet wine that Robert was reaching for to the other side of the mouse. Then she stretched out her little finger and tapped the wooden plaque around Robert's neck.

"The Baron said that we are not allowed to feed her."

Robert pouted, looking like she was about to cry again.

The mouse girl took out a small brown piece of paper from her pocket, which read "1 piece of candy".

"Only the porridge is free to eat. If you want to eat other things, you have to use sugar coupons to exchange for 'zhi' by the big pot over there."

Robert turned his head.

At the end of the worker rat canteen, next to the tall and large jar of paste, several small pots and jars have been added. The rims of the pots are marked with sugar coupons, and steam rises from the gaps in the lids, carrying the aroma of various foods.

However, all normal food now has to be transported from nearly 200 kilometers away, and the amount for each sugar coupon is so large that it could scare a rat to death.

Robert reached out his hand, wanting to take the candy coupon from the mouse girl's hand.

If it were her usual pace, that candy coupon would definitely be in her hand by now.

But the strange red circle on her chest made her feel weak all over whenever she thought about doing that.

His fingers slowly pinched empty air.

The mouse girl held the candy coupon high, her little hand reaching above her head.

"The Baron also said that you're not allowed to just hand over the candy coupons, and he also said that if you reach out, then..."

Suddenly, the mouse girl leaned over and grabbed Robert's cheeks with her two little hands, pulling them apart forcefully.

"Ugh..."

The horse's ears are smaller and not as easy to tug as a mouse's, but its chubby cheeks are very easy to pinch.

"If you want candy coupons, go to the registration desk and get a little wooden tag. Work hard, okay!"

"Humph!"

Roberts angrily crossed her arms, turned her head high, and held her chin up high.

When you are weak enough, even your anger can be adorable.

"Humph!"

Robert angrily picked up the spoon and shoved a mouthful of paste into his mouth.

"Humph!"

Robert isn't a mouse girl!

If I actually go to work, wouldn't that be like admitting defeat to that guy?

There's no way I'm going to work!

"After I finish this plate of porridge, I'll go find a place to sleep!"

-----------------

registry.

A small wooden table was placed next to the entrance of the city wall, with a thick register and a stack of small wooden signs piled on it, and a long line of mouse girls queuing in front of the table.

Sulfur sat behind the table, his red pupils lowered, his pen flying across the register as he wrote names.

She handed a small wooden plaque with her name engraved on it to the mouse girl in front of her, and casually gave instructions to the mouse next to her who was helping.

"The register is almost full, please bring a new one."

"Okay!"

The mouse next to it ran over carrying a brand new registration book.

Sulfur took it, turned to the first page, and shouted without looking up.

"Next, what's your name?"