The Secrets of Mowen Manor

My family has rented and farmed the land of Mowen Manor for generations. 

Lord Bruce, the manor's owner, is a very stingy landlord. The taxes here are high, and the farmers toil on barren land, giving up more than half of their harvest. 

When it came to my father's generation, our Eric family faced the turmoil of war, making life even more difficult. My father left our hometown for the town when I was twelve, and he never returned. My mother raised four children; I have two younger sisters and a brother. The youngest, Sam, is only one year old, and of course, only God knows who his father is. 

From a young age, I lived a life of hunger and neglect, yearning for the lifestyle of the upper class and envying the respectable and clean servants of Mowen Manor. So, from the day I became a male servant at Mowen Manor, I believed I had transformed into someone of higher status, convinced I had escaped my miserable and dirty identity. 

And the truth is… it left me speechless… 

When I stepped into the village, people saw me and greeted me: 

"Look! Owen is back!" 

"The kid from the Eric family has made it; he's a male servant in the lord's manor! Look at his clothes, so nice!" 

"He looks just like those noble lords, and his wig is beautiful, like silver." 

"Why can he be a male servant in the manor? My son just wants to go in and be a stable boy, but they won't let him." 

My high heels clattered over the uneven path as I finally struggled to reach the door of my home. 

Our family squeezed into a dilapidated wooden farmhouse surrounded by a fence. An old wooden cart at the entrance held some worn clothes drying in the sun, and a hen was lazily pecking for worms. 

My mother and sisters greeted me warmly; the children were curious about the bread I had brought home, while my mother was busy asking for my wages. 

My mother is a very stout woman. She was beautiful in her youth and well-known as a beauty. But since my father disappeared, she developed a drinking problem, choosing to drink rather than eat. 

In my past life, I despised her for only asking me for money. She claimed it was for food for my younger siblings, but in reality, it all went to alcohol. My wages were meager, and I had to buy various expensive items, so before long, I stopped giving her money altogether, even cutting off contact with them. A few years later, I lost track of them, and even the neighbors didn't know where they had gone. 

"When you said you were going to work in the manor as a male servant, I thought you were joking. I didn't expect you to really make something of yourself," my mother said, rambling. "I'm proud of you, my son. The villagers envy me. Old Mo at the village entrance has come to me several times, wanting to marry his daughter to you. I would never agree; his daughter looks like a goat." 

"I have to thank Butler Aaron for giving me this opportunity," I said, handing all my wages to my mother, instructing, "Use it to buy food." 

My mother smiled brightly as she accepted the money, carefully hiding it in her apron. She glanced at the bread I brought home and said, "Next time, you don't need to bring back bread; just give me the money, and we'll make our own." 

My sister Angel is 15, like a blooming flower, vibrant and full of life. She touched my coat and asked, "What fabric is this? It feels so nice; it must be warm." 

This black-and-white striped male servant uniform was custom-made by the manor, made from expensive wool. Each servant gets only one, making it my most valuable possession. 

"Tell us what the manor is like! What does Lord Bruce look like? Is Lady Bruce beautiful? Do they wear silk clothes?" my little sister Ariel fired off questions one after another. 

I laughed and shared stories about the manor, their eyes wide with interest. 

Angel occasionally exclaimed, "How amazing! I wish I could work as a female servant too! Brother, can you ask Lord Aaron for me?" 

"Being a female servant might be difficult; they require special training, and they don't want country girls." 

"But brother, aren't you from the countryside? Why did they take you?" 

I smiled and said, "If there's an opening for a cook, I'll ask for you." 

Angel replied, "I don't want to be a cook; I want to be a maid to the ladies. I want to touch those beautiful expensive silk dresses and those lovely jewels." 

Since I only had half a day off, I left quickly. 

Taking advantage of the warm afternoon sun, I hurried back to Mowen Manor before three o'clock. 

Mowen Manor is vast. From afar, the pale yellow castle sits in the center of the expansive plain, like a small piece of cheese. But as you approach, you realize how grand the castle really is. 

The castle has a square foundation, standing three stories high, with hundreds of rooms and countless identical hallways and staircases. When I first arrived, I often got lost and took a long time to get familiar with it. 

The castle's owner is Lord Bruce, who, along with his wife, has raised four children. 

The eldest son, William, and three beautiful daughters. 

William is married to Helena, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, but they have no children after many years of marriage. The eldest daughter, Judith, is already married, while the second and third daughters remain unmarried. 

Life was originally peaceful and uneventful; they enjoyed life like all nobility, surrounded by laughter and happiness. They indulged in fine food and wine, rode horses, hunted, attended balls, and lived carefree until today… 

The moment I stepped into the castle, I knew everything was about to repeat itself, without the slightest difference. 

The servants were on high alert, moving swiftly. Simon and maid Anne quietly informed me: 

"Something big has happened. Young Master William fell from his horse and broke his neck…" 

That night, the entire castle was silent, occasionally broken by soft sobs. 

The masters were deeply saddened, so the servants stayed awake all night, ready for any instructions from them. 

Anne is a very beautiful junior maid with fiery red hair, as passionate as her personality. Under the dim candlelight, she stitched while softly lamenting, "Hailey has been crying; I hope she feels better soon." 

Simon scoffed, "Of course she's crying. Last week, she lost her virginity to Young Master William, and now that he's dead, she didn't get a single penny. Poor girl." 

Anne shot Simon an angry glare, "You're such a nuisance." 

"I don't need you to evaluate whether I'm a nuisance; we have more pressing matters to worry about. Young Master William is dead; who will inherit the title of the viscount?" Simon said excitedly. "Those people up there have flattered Young Master William for so many years, groveling like dogs. And now? Ha! What a waste of effort. Which of the senior maids hasn't been in Young Master's bed? They must be hiding somewhere now, crying." 

"Don't think everyone is as filthy as you," Anne retorted angrily. 

"I'm just stating facts. Does our viscount have any brothers?" 

"Who knows? There should be, I guess." 

"There is," I said. "The viscount's brother was a baron who passed away many years ago." 

"How do you know that?" Simon asked, surprised. "Did the deceased baron have a son?" 

I looked at the flickering candlelight and nodded slightly, "Yes, there is a young master who has inherited the title of baron." 

"How old is he? Is he married? Does he have children? What kind of person is he?" Simon fired off questions. 

"How would Owen know these things? We'll know everything when that lord arrives at Mowen Manor," Anne replied nonchalantly. 

The candle burned with a soft crackle, and I gazed at the flame, a bit dazed: 

"Yeah, when he arrives, everything will be clear."