Lord Wuyue had always been benevolent and magnanimous toward the slaves. This was the first time she had spoken so clearly about their status.
Chang Ye knew that when it came to raising chickens, they had been wrong.
Even though it was the hot season, and a blazing fire still roared in the nearby brick and tile kiln, it was as if all that sweltering heat had been sealed away by some invisible force.
He felt as if he had been thrown into the ice and snow of winter, a cold so deep he couldn't help but tremble and shrink into himself.
Wu Yue, standing before him, naturally saw Chang Ye's trembling and cowering.
Coming from a more egalitarian society, Wu Yue had always felt a subtle resistance to the very existence of slaves. Because of this, she had always treated the slaves in the tribe as if they were ordinary tribe members.
But Wu Yue knew her views were hers alone. The tribe members tolerated the slaves having their own food and belongings only because she had commanded it.
