C299 The Gates of the Marquis Were as Deep as the Sea
The steward, belly protruding, picked at his teeth with a bamboo stick, his face twisted in scorn. "A basket of biscuits for our master's celebration? What's that supposed to mean? Bragging and falling ill at the same time—how inauspicious! Scram, scram, scram! You're a nuisance at the door every day. Our master is out of your league, peasant. Got it? You have no self-respect