Chapter 74 The influence of those in high positions on ordinary people's lives...
They were all men with outstanding looks, distinguished backgrounds, and down-on-their-luck experiences, which women loved—this fully aroused their maternal instincts.
Even though Manberia married a descendant of a famous tycoon, the women still felt that he had been taken advantage of.
Mamboa accepted their pitying and sympathetic glances without question, returning them with a sweet, ambiguous, and provocative smile.
The women were all mesmerized and giggled.
Several noblewomen and aristocratic ladies even rushed to his side, offering him wine, feeding him grapes, and flirting with him. The boldest of them all sat on his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and laughed coquettishly.
The little chubby bride didn't understand what was happening; she just laughed foolishly along with them.
"The woman who sat down was a widowed whore who had slept with quite a few married men."
As I listened to the women begin to grumble and curse in jealousy, I quietly got up and moved to another group of women.
Unfortunately, I didn't hear anything of value until the end of the wedding banquet.
However, I have grasped a basic fact: that is, Manberia used the marriage alliance to gain the support of its own country's elites, greatly strengthening its military power, which led to the withdrawal of the enemy troops. This is the reason for the sudden ceasefire.
After the wedding banquet ended, I followed the crowd to Manboa's new house.
The new house is quite luxurious, but that's not the most eye-catching part.
The most eye-catching part was the group of aristocratic men and women crowded into the bridal chamber. They were laughing and tossing small pomegranates onto the newlyweds on the beautiful large bed.
Manberia and the little fleshy bride had been stripped naked without anyone noticing. They covered their private parts with a luxurious feather quilt. Manberia easily dodged more than a dozen small pomegranates, but the little fleshy bride was hit by several small pomegranates and burst into tears.
Someone handed me a small pomegranate, and I threw it, which hit Manberia's tall, beautiful nose squarely.
"Ah!" Manberia covered his nose and let out an exaggerated cry of pain. I was stunned. I looked at my palm. How could I have hit the target when I had never thrown a shot before?
All eyes were on me, filled with reproach, disdain, and jealousy—how could I not be jealous of the handsome man I had attracted?
“However,” Mamboa suddenly smiled enigmatically, “since he’s been struck by his own mistress, the pain is to be expected.”
The crowd's gaze shifted to surprise, shock, and disbelief. Several of the women I'd hung out with before recognized me and gasped in astonishment.
Who would have thought that the mistress publicly acknowledged by the prince who was willing to let others pay him lip service was this completely inconspicuous, strange woman who sat in the corner and was ignored by everyone.
That's when I realized that Mamboy was introducing me to people as his mistress.
I refused to sit in the main seat, and he didn't force me, but just before he was about to consummate the marriage with the bride, he made our "relationship" public.
I glared at him fiercely, but he smiled even more brightly, and everyone looked on in surprise. Only then did I realize that what I had done was more like flirting.
At midnight, I sat in my bedroom, utterly baffled. How did this incredibly popular man come to have taken a liking to me?
There was a gentle knock on the door, and surprisingly, Mamboya's voice came from inside: "May I come in?"
"No, I want to sleep," I said quickly.
“I’m sorry,” he said through the door, “I should have told you about the marriage earlier, but for some reason, I’ve always been reluctant for you to know.”
He shouldn't have said anything, because once he did, I couldn't help but open the door, holding a fruit knife at him. "Let me tell you, don't bother me anymore, and don't tell anyone I'm your mistress. We have nothing to do with each other."
He looked aggrieved. "If you can't even find a man like me attractive, who would you find attractive? Bernard? He won't marry you."
I sneered, still pointing the knife at him, "You still won't marry me."
He laughed gently, “If I tell you the truth, you will hate me; if I don’t tell you the truth, you will still hate me. What I want to say is that no man of high position and power would want to marry a woman with your qualifications, because the position of wife is only given to the woman who can help a man the most. But you can be a mistress, even the chief mistress.”
"I don't want to be a mistress or a wife."
He smiled even more tenderly and considerately, "If you're so stubborn, you'll only let the opportunity that belongs to you slip away. When your place is taken by another woman, you'll regret it immensely."
"I won't regret it." I sneered even more.
"Oh, still being stubborn?" He affectionately touched my face, which I slapped away. He just smiled. "My dear beauty, you have no looks, no money, no intelligence, and no family background. Without me, you're not even as good as an ordinary commoner. What makes a girl like you so arrogant?"
Tears welled up in my eyes. "It's none of your business!"
He sighed, "You'll regret it, you'll definitely regret it!"
His implication was that he would eventually rise to prominence, while I would end up destitute and die, and even if I begged for food at the palace gates, he would never give me another glance.
“My patience is limited, my girl,” he gently touched my face again, “don’t test me.”
This statement is similar to something Bernard once said: "If I miss this opportunity, I won't take it again. I won't lower myself like that again."
I was furious and slapped his hand away again, saying, "Take your hand away."
He withdrew his hand, his smile gradually fading. "Perhaps you really need a lesson."
I gave him a cold look.
It was still dark, only two hours after he left, and a faint glimmer of daylight appeared on the horizon.
I was ordered to leave the palace immediately, taking only my own belongings, as emphasized by the maids who came to inform me.
After the initial shock, I silently began packing my things. Actually, I didn't have much—just a few clothes I'd brought from Princess Yanni. I'd barely finished packing when a maid behind me knocked me unconscious with something…
When I woke up, I found myself abandoned in a snowy wasteland. Everything was covered in a blanket of snow, the sky obscured, and the north wind howled, making me question my very existence.
My package was right next to me, and besides that, I had nothing—not even a warm coat. I struggled to my feet, shivering and trembling, staring in disbelief at everything around me.
He just abandoned me like that, like throwing away trash.
One second he was saying he loved me so passionately, the next second he just dumped me.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
This was the first time I had ever experienced the power of life and death that those in high positions of power had over ordinary people.
He could easily abandon me or kill me.
Perhaps I should thank him for not killing me in a fit of rage.
But now it seems no different from killing me, deliberately leaving me in this freezing cold, without any consideration that I will freeze to death.
I was only wearing an ordinary long dress, and the cold wind blew through my body, freezing me to the bone.
Standing in the snow, my feet were so frozen that I couldn't feel them and couldn't take a single step.
At that moment, I still had some fantasies. As someone who loves reading romance novels, I fantasized that I would be like those heroines who defy fate, change my destiny, suddenly encounter a miracle, cross this icy and snowy land, and arrive in a warm place to give that bastard a good slap in the face.
But fantasy is just fantasy; none of this happened, and I'm still standing in the freezing cold.
I couldn't help but cry. I'm miserable, really miserable, after leaving that man. He said he was going to teach me a lesson, a lesson he truly intended to teach me on the verge of death.
I cried harder and harder, and I couldn't stop the tears from flowing.
As I was crying, I suddenly realized that I could move my feet, even if only a little bit.
Perhaps the intense crying helped my body regain some energy.
I tried to walk forward a little while crying, but I fell to the ground after only a few steps.
But I found that falling to the ground might have an advantage—my hands were a bit stronger than my feet. I dug out two rocks buried in the snow and used their hardness to support myself as I slid forward. In no time, I had slid quite a distance.
As I slid down a slope, I wasn't paying attention and suddenly started rushing downhill. As I screamed, the cold wind rushed into my mouth, so I immediately shut my mouth. I just kept rushing headlong to the bottom of the snow slope, and with a thud, I crashed directly into a large snowdrift.
I scrambled out of the snowdrift and found a group of ragged men and women staring at me in surprise. Several children in tattered clothes ran up to me curiously, giggling as if they found it amusing.
Half an hour later, I had become familiar with them. I wasn't a gangster, but I tried my best to become one, telling them my story incessantly—I had been robbed by several bandits, who stole all my thick clothes and left me with nothing.
They looked at me with sympathy, invited me to sit by the fire, and handed me a kettle of hot water.
I gulped down most of the bottle, and their eyes grew even more sympathetic.
They were a nomadic performing tribe, wandering from place to place, going wherever there was an opportunity to make money.
After warming themselves by the fire for over an hour, they had to continue their journey. I asked them to take me with them, and they agreed.
I followed their group, my footsteps sinking deeper and deeper into the snow.
They were clearly familiar with the route, turning east and west, going straight from the side roads to the main road, and arriving at a dilapidated little inn near dusk.
They didn't have much money, only enough to pay for the stables. So, a group of us and a few horses huddled together, lit a campfire, and prepared to get through the long, cold night.
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Author's Note: Today's update will be no less than 9000 words. There will be two more updates later, muah~~
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