Slap A Smiling Face

"Are you trying to overwhelm me with people? Do you think I will be impressed, just because you have a few more servants?"

Mo Seris was livid.

A moment before, he had settled his emotions, thinking that it was over. 

However, unexpectedly, on the other side of the gates, the crowds of Song people on the road had only grown more impressive. Whereas before they were arranged in two single-file lines, now there were a dozen rows.

Up ahead, where they were congregating, the road looked like it was enveloped by a sea of bodies. From gardeners to shopkeepers, street vendors to instructors and guards, it seemed that every servant retained by the Song Family had arrived just to inconvenience Mo Seris.

On the roadside, it was clear that they had entered the Song Manor proper. There were farmlands, beast yards, and markets. In the residential areas, the houses were tightly packed in, wall-to-wall. 

Despite the space restrictions, the comfortable living conditions of the average Song family member were evident. The markets were filled with the bustle of commerce. The well-dressed women and clean-faced children exhibited the appearance of prosperity.

Mo Seris was too busy cursing the dozens of generations of Song ancestors to notice any of this. 

As the carriage traveled through the outer ring, his dissatisfaction was morphing into rage. Only a few minutes later, it reached a boiling point.

The display that had been arranged for his departure was extremely thorough and well-put together. It was an honor that many would think befitting of a dignitary, but he thought little of it.

Every time he expected the lines of servants to end, they continued, and the pace of the carriage remained just as plodding. Eventually, he came to realize that the lines would likely extend to the very limits of the Song Manor.

The size and scale of the manor certainly left an impression on him, as had the 'goodwill' demonstrated by the Song Family, but they were not good impressions.

Before he arrived at the Song Manor, Mo Seris had been thinking about stopping at the Flower Visiting Pavilion after the Song job. The unpleasantness with the Third Manager distracted him, but his intentions had not changed.

It was clear that every second he was delayed from his return to the Mo Estate was a second of pleasure removed from his day.

Mo Seris frowned. He wondered if this 'honor' had been given to the other representatives. At the very least, Mo Kori, who gave up the Song assignment in the Sixth House, should have mentioned something.

They both worked under the same steward, after all.

Mo Seris suddenly found himself thinking about Song Horo again. Without a doubt, the Third Manager was the primary reason that the Song assignment was so unappetizing. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine.

No wonder Mo Kori had pushed the job onto him. Mo Seris was sure that the other assistant steward had been similarly 'warned.'

Mo Seris forcefully shifted his mind away from the topic, not wanting to think about unpleasant things. The crucial point was that he had no more patience for the charade that was occurring outside of the carriage walls.

Earlier, when it seemed that the delay would end at the inner ring, he did not lash out. The principle of not slapping a smiling face was one that he upheld.

However, his patience had a limit, and there were also limits to decency and politeness.

Moreover, his anger could no longer be contained. 

Even if the face was smiling, it still had to be slapped. Mo Seris began hitting down on the sidewall of the cabin.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

Mo Seris stopped after a few vigorous hits. The retainers in the box were not idiots. They would understand what he was trying to communicate. As for the impoliteness with the Song guide, he no longer cared.