A Scumbag Always Gets What He Deserves

22: Lovers and friends

Two servants were in the process of changing the quilt and sheets on Jian Qiao's bed. The billowing fabric disturbed fine particles of lint which floated in the air like mayflies in the candlelight.

Jian Qiao sat in his rocking chair, gazing at the tiny specks of dust as he rocked to and fro.

"My lord, you can go to bed." The two manservants bowed.

"I'll sleep in the chair." Jian Qiao's voice was full of exhaustion.

The two servants were taken aback for a moment, then they skillfully placed a pillow behind Jian Qiao's back and covered him with a heavy blanket. They didn't persuade their master to go to bed, because this had long since become his habit.

"Good night, my lord. I wish you good dreams." The two servants retreated backwards from the room.

Jian Qiao, however, stared at a spot of mildew on the ceiling for a long time, not daring to close his eyes. To have good dreams, such a thing was unimaginable for him. The reason he chose to sleep in a rocking chair was because when he was strangled by the nightmare and struggled violently in the dream, he would convulse his body in reality.

And the jerking of his body would shake the rocking chair. This, in turn, would wake him from the terrible dream.

Thus, throughout the entire night, he would suffer a cycle of falling asleep and waking up and falling asleep again. But at least this intermittent sleep was enough to ensure he wouldn't faint from lightheadedness the next day.

He no longer dared to ask anyone to read for him or ramble on all night. Even if it was just a cash transaction, there was no guarantee it would be safe. He might have changed his body, but the agony of being stabbed in the heart with a sharp blade would never disappear.

In the silence of the night, Jian Qiao would rather hug a rocking chair than a warm, flesh-and-blood body.

With his palm he gently rubbed the arm of the rocking chair and joked bitterly, "You know what, partner? You're the greatest invention of the century, you saved my life."

All through the night, the rocking chair sporadically clattered and creaked.

---

Three days later, as promised, Rege held a grand banquet. The most powerful lords of Gloria gathered at the Duke's residence, and luxurious carriages clogged the streets outside the palace.

Some lords jumped down from their carriages and strode into the castle with amazing momentum, their eyes directed forward; some lords gently and considerately handed down their female companions, then walked arm-in-arm with them in style; some lords laughed heartily and waved at the crowd, and ordered their servants to open the boxes they brought with them, spilling out a large number of copper coins.

When they met such a lord, the commoners who came to see the fun would shout in surprise, then raise their hands and shout with gratitude, "Your Lordship, may you live to be a hundred! God bless you! God bless you!"

Reckless children emerged from the crowd like small rats, frantically scrambling for the coins on the ground, rushing and grabbing en masse like a pack of feral hyenas.

Some cursed, some frolicked, and some went on their knees praying sincerely to God.

Seeing such a variety of reactions, the lords who gave out money laughed with greater delight. It was exactly what they wanted—joy, sorrow, anger, struggle. It gave them the illusion they could dominate everything around them.

Every guest was a mighty lord of high prestige, power, and wealth. Among such people, Prince Andrew could only show his humility.

The great lords were actually the de facto monarchs of the major provinces. Without their support, Gloria would cease to exist and the king's throne would be an empty symbol. Prince Andrew understood this truth.