Lord, Spare Our Lives

As Magnus let out a low shout, he smacked the pear wood desk with all his might. 

"Ouch...!" he yelped, unable to bear the excruciating pain in his hand. 

Hearing the commotion from outside, two maids rushed to the door, anxiously inquiring, "Young Master, what's wrong?"

Concerned that he might be in danger, the maids pushed open the door and entered, only to find Magnus hopping around, clutching his hand in evident pain. 

"Young Master, are you alright? Was there an assassin in the room?" The maids scanned the room vigilantly, but found no intruder. Considering

the presence of skilled guards in the estate, it would have been difficult for an assassin to infiltrate unnoticed.

Magnus, having somewhat recovered from the pain in his hand, looked at his swollen, reddened palm and then at the unscathed desk. A surge of annoyance welled up inside him.

"Quickly, call someone to take this damned desk out and smash it!" he ordered the maids, pointing angrily at the sturdy table.

Magnus listened to the maid's words, almost fainting from shock. He, a well-rounded and morally upright young man from the 21st century, was merely trying to comfort a young girl, but she mistook his kindness as a wolf in sheep's clothing, fearing he intended to tarnish her purity.

Although internally speechless, Magnus knew the misunderstanding stemmed from the notorious debauchery of his predecessor. 

The maids of the estate feared him like a flood or ferocious beast, dreading being defiled and thrown out. 

The maid's panic, thinking he harbored ulterior motives, arose from his seemingly friendly demeanor.

Seeing the maid's pale face, trembling with fear and tears, Magnus was at a loss whether to laugh or cry. 

He eventually frowned and feigned a stern voice, "Silly girl, if I said I won't take your life, I won't. If you dare cry and make a fuss again, I'll sell you to the Fengting Brothel to become a courtesan."

The maid, terrified at the thought of being sold to a brothel, instantly stopped crying and knelt upright, obediently looking at Magnus as if waiting for him to decide her fate.

"Tell me again about that desk. Something about Luban Country, iron pear wood? I didn't catch it clearly," Magnus asked, seeing the maid had calmed down.

The maid carefully replied, "Young Master, Luban Country is one of the thirteen subordinate countries of Fengyunia. 

The people there are skilled in wood and stone carving, each a talented craftsman. 

They produce a type of wood called 'iron pear wood,' which is not only as hard as iron but also aesthetically pleasing. 

The wood emits a faint fragrance that can calm and soothe the mind. It's quite miraculous."

"People from Luban Country use iron pear wood to make high-quality wooden utensils and even weapons. 

However, due to its rarity, only the royal and noble families of Luban Country can afford items made from iron pear wood."

Upon hearing the maid's words, Magnus instantly realized why his hand had swollen up after that slap; the desk was made of wood harder than steel. It was a classic case of shooting oneself in the foot, and Magnus couldn't help but curse his luck for suffering such an unnecessary setback.

"Lord Astor, since you don't like this desk, let's have someone take it out and smash it right away," the maid suggested, noticing Magnus's mood fluctuating again and feeling anxious as if her heart was pounding, afraid of provoking him and eager to leave the situation.

However, to her surprise, Magnus quickly waved his hands to stop the maids, saying, "Ah... smash what? It'd be a shame to destroy such a fine piece of furniture. The Astor household is grand, with many mouths to feed; we should save where we can."

Hearing this, the two maids were dumbfounded, staring at Magnus as if they had witnessed the greatest miracle on earth.

"My goodness, Lord Astor actually suggesting to save? Am I dreaming?" This was the thought that simultaneously crossed the maids' minds!

After all, Magnus Astor of Silverwood City was infamously known for his lavish spending, squandering money as if it were dirt. His extravagant lifestyle was beyond anyone's reach.

If he fancied, he wouldn't blink an eye at spending thousands of gold on a handkerchief to gift to the top courtesan of The Velvet Chamber, treating it as if he were merely tossing away a sack of straw.

Once, a wandering poet who had visited Silverwood City composed a poem after witnessing Lord Astor's extravagant display of wealth.

It went, "Tall towers rise, water flows far, treating gold as mere soil, yet deeming it not lavish enough."

This verse spoke volumes of Lord Astor's immense wealth and unbridled extravagance.

For a time, this poem was widely circulated in Silverwood City and even across Avaloria.

However, the poem fell out of favor six months ago, not because Lord Astor had reformed his ways, but because his deeds had surpassed the extravagance the poem could convey.

In Dragon City, known for the first-rate courtesan house "Drunken Life Pavilion," Lord Astor encountered Leander Carnegie, a sole heir,dubbed the wealthiest man in Avaloria with the epithet "he who rains gold upon the south."

Both scions of immense wealth and noble birth clashed over the opportunity to spend an evening with "Phoenix," the Pavilion's top courtesan.

In a bid to outdo one another, Leander Carnegie suggested they compete in a bidding war.

However, Lord Astor, with a slight smile, dismissed this as too mundane. Instead, he proposed they fill two massive cauldrons with ice, place them over large fire pits, and use stacks of silver notes as fuel.

"Water boils not without fire, and wood is scarce here. Let's start with a thousand taels of silver as fuel to see who can boil the ice first. The winner shall spend the evening with Phoenix," Lord Astor suggested.

Thus, the astonishing spectacle of "Burning Money to Boil Cauldrons" unfolded at the Drunken Life Pavilion, shocking the capital.

The exact amount of silver burned that day, whether millions or billions, remains unknown.

All that was certain was that the "Avaloria Treasury," second only to the national treasury, was emptied.

Lord Astor won, boiling the water first and claiming his prize.

Yet, before he could enjoy his victory, he was summoned back to Silver City by royal decree, leaving Dragon City bound and without even having touched Phoenix's hand, much to everyone's astonishment.

Though he didn't win the beauty's favor, the event cemented Lord Astor's reputation as the most extravagantly wasteful noble in all of Avaloria.

Now, hearing Lord Astor suddenly advocate for frugality left the maids in disbelief, thinking they had hallucinated. "Lord Astor saving money? Might as well say pigs can climb trees."