The storeroom wing was divided into different sections, each with dozens of rooms. The lighting arrays were more extensive than in the other wings of the Sixth House.
At the front was the reception room, where the advanced testing equipment was kept. It was a small room with a cramped, informal feeling to it. Scattered among the equipment were a few empty desks and chairs.
In the center was a massive desk that took up more than a quarter of the space. Currently, at that desk, Mo Yiren was sifting through a large pile of documents.
He was an aged man with wispy, thin white hair and cloudy eyes. From a glance, it was clear that he already had one foot in the grave.
Mo Yiren was dealing with work left to him by the Sixth Steward. Most of the documents were financial sheets that covered the expenses of the Sixth House. He was reviewing for discrepancies.
From the disgruntled expression on his face, it was clear that the accounts did not match.
The most discrepant of the documents were those related to the Demonbeast horses.
From the feed, to the medical expenses, to the sourcing of new horses, it was all covered by the Second House of Internal Affairs, a part of the monolith that was the Beast Hall.
The Beast Hall held a monopoly on Demonbeasts within the Mo Family. They were famous for standing united as one shameless front, skimming silver off the top with every deal they conducted with the other Houses.
Mo Yiren knew the Sixth House still needed to purchase a few foals. They had been delaying for the past few years, and their use-horses weren't getting any younger.
This made the current dealings complicated.
Just thinking about how difficult it would be to deal with the Second House was making Mo Yiren's head spin. He was feeling older and older. Even though he wanted to assist Mo Lidor, as he had in his younger days, the weight of his responsibility was beginning to fall heavily on him.
Should he enlist an assistant steward to negotiate, or do it himself?
The door swung open.
Mo Yiren looked up sharply.
It was Mo Seris, one of the brats. He was walking in with a delivery. Was he early?
No, it did not seem so. Mo Yiren felt slightly deflated. If the time of Mo Seris's arrival had already come, then it seemed that the day had passed him by. Soon it would be time for him to eat, and then sleep. Where did all the hours go?
As Mo Yiren was thinking this, he frowned, looking carefully at the cradle in Mo Seris's hands. His eyes were drawn to the infant, which seemed to be exhibiting some unusual behavior. The blankets were shifting around.
He continued to study it, intrigued.
The infant seemed to be strangely active. He could see that it was breathing heavily and jerking from side to side.
A feeling of hope suddenly stirred in his chest. Did the baby have talents?
If so, then perhaps delivering it would accrue some benefits to Mo Lidor.
The way he viewed Mo Seris began to change as well. He looked down to the side to confirm a piece of information, a warm smile on his face.
"Mo Seris, welcome, welcome. Is that the…Song delivery? From the Third Manager?"
He looked up expectantly.
"Yes, it is."
"Excellent, excellent!" Mo Yiren clapped his hands. "Nurse," he called out. "And a medicine man."
In the backrooms, there was an audible noise as the servants scrambled to attend to their duties. In the storeroom wing, there were dozens of nurses, medicine men, and other servants with various skills who lived on-site. There was always a full complement who were prepared to handle infants at a moment's notice.
Mo Yiren smiled at Mo Seris. "Tell me more about this delivery," he said, a warm expression on his aged face.