"Alright, stop kowtowing, everyone stand up. The soup will lose its taste if it gets cold; eat your dinner properly."
Jasmine waved her hands frantically, telling the kneeling slaves to get up quickly. Fortunately, even though these people performed such a grand gesture towards her, the bowls of meat soup held in their hands remained perfectly balanced, not spilling a single drop.
Seeing that the other slaves receiving food behind them still wanted to come and kowtow, Jasmine hurriedly shouted loudly to stop them: "Do not kowtow to me anymore. I do not like being kowtowed to like a dead person. Anyone who dares to kowtow again will not get meat soup tonight; I will take back the food."
Hearing that kowtowing meant no meat soup, the most terrifying punishment at this moment, the slaves shrank back in fear.
The old slave, who was still kneeling on the ground, also stood up trembling, hugged his food, and dispersed immediately as if fleeing. He found a hidden corner or a rock to squat down, raised the bowl, and impatiently sipped a mouthful of meat soup first.
"Salty!" A rich salty taste spread in his mouth, stimulating every taste bud that had been asleep for a long time.
Some slaves ate quickly; the wooden bowl hit the bottom before they could taste anything, and they licked the bowl regretfully. Some slaves smacked their lips to taste every mouthful carefully, sipping the broth bit by bit, completely unwilling to drink it all in one breath. Even that tiny piece of bone, they wished they could chew it into paste and swallow it all into their stomachs to get a bit of the marrow inside, so someone very quickly discovered the wonderful abnormality of the meat soup.
"There is salt inside! It is real salt!" Other slaves who discovered the abnormality of the meat soup also exclaimed, their eyes wide with surprise.
Salt was a luxury item; there was no way slaves could taste the saltiness of sea salt.
"The newly arrived Lord gave us salt to eat; she is truly the most generous and benevolent noble in the world."
"There seems to be some spicy and fragrant spice in this meat sausage."
"Spice? Oh my god!"
"Is that a very expensive thing? Only kings and lords get to use it. Why did the Lord share meat sausage with expensive spices for us to eat?"
Because ingredients were limited, only a little ground wild ginger powder and salt were actually added to the meat sausage to adjust the flavor and remove the fishy smell. Unless one tasted carefully, it would not be detected. Unexpectedly, there were people with sensitive tongues among the slaves who could immediately distinguish the taste of the spices, which was different from their daily bland food.
"The Lord is truly a kind-hearted and benevolent person." Someone exclaimed with tears in their eyes while chewing a piece of meat cake.
The others also nodded in agreement repeatedly, their mouths chewing voraciously.
In the past, they had been sold to many places and served other Lords, but those Lords would never give them salt to eat, considering it a waste, let alone meat with such delicious spices.
"I hope the Lord can stay in the territory forever; I want to be a loyal slave to the Lord for my whole life." Someone suddenly whispered with a determined face.
The others were silent for a moment, pondering the future. After a long while, someone responded:
"I also want to be a slave to the Lord forever; I do not want to be sold anywhere else. Since the Lord is so benevolent, next time she hunts prey, will she also share it with us?"
"But the Knight protecting the territory is not here. The Lord is a woman; hunting alone is very dangerous, isn't it? The forest is full of wild beasts." No one understood the danger and cruelty of the forest better than the slaves who had to face it daily.
"The Lord cannot have an accident." They began to worry. It was hard to wait for a Lord willing to give them meat soup and treat them like human beings. They did not want to change to a new person so quickly, let alone return to the hellish days of before.
"I... I will use my life to protect the Lord." The Cow-headed man didn't know when he had sidled up close; with a bit of broth still on his lips, he cut in with a firm voice.
Among all the slaves, the Cow-headed man Angus was considered the strongest and had the most fighting power. Moreover, he possessed invincible strength; otherwise, he could not have controlled and pinned down a struggling adult wild boar with his bare hands.
The other slaves heard the Cow-headed man speak and nodded in trusting agreement.
Then someone looked at Angus with admiring eyes and asked: "Did the Lord specially grant you a name?"
The Cow-headed man puffed out his chest proudly, patting his muscular chest: "That is right, the Lord personally called me Angus."
"Angus, what a good name, it sounds very majestic."
"That is so good, I also want to be granted a name by the Lord, even if it is an ugly name." The slaves chatted incessantly, and the usually gloomy and sullen atmosphere had vanished.
Slaves were people who were easily satisfied like that; just a small bowl of meat soup and a little respect filled the slaves with gratitude and loyalty to Jasmine, sincerely hoping that Jasmine could be safe and rule this place forever.
The usually desolate Black Dragon Castle was lively tonight, with the sounds of whispering laughter and slurping soup echoing.
The slaves were different from their usual zombie-like silent paralysis; even the most taciturn person would stammer a sentence to the person next to them about the goodness and grace of the Lord.
Jasmine stood up high, the night wind blowing the hem of her dress. Quietly listening to their bits of conversation, her mood was extremely complicated.
Looking at these simple, hardworking, and easily satisfied people, how could she have the heart to let them continue to suffer from hunger and cold? The responsibility of a Lord weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she no longer felt the sense of being forced like when she first arrived.