Life As A Slave

Everything that happened afterward was a haze, a jumble of fleeting memories that Liu struggled to piece together. He had lost consciousness, only to be rudely awakened by the callous grip of the Bandit Leader, Qiang. Liu's mother, her lifeless body abandoned like a discarded toy, was a grim reminder of the danger that lurked in these desolate mountains.

Qiang had no qualms about exploiting the vulnerable, even if it meant betraying the trust of a child who had offered him aid. Liu was now a commodity, just another prize to be traded for profit. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but one that he had to endure.

The Hundred Red Scarf Bandits descended from the mountain of Weiji, their faces twisted with glee at their latest plunder. Qiang boasted of his conquest to his subordinates, relishing in the prospect of a hefty payout.

The children, still immobilized from the bandits' brutal treatment, were transported down the mountain like sacks of grain. Liu wondered what fate awaited them, his mind racing with images of slavery and forced indoctrination. He knew that Sects, the so-called guardians of order, were often the buyers of such wares. The irony of their twisted morality was not lost on him.

Qiang's thoughts were not burdened by such concerns. His sole focus was profit. He cared little for the fate of those he sold, so long as his pockets were lined with gold.

As the bandits disappeared into the horizon, Liu was left alone with his thoughts. He vowed to escape this fate, to break free from the chains of his captors and seek justice for his mother's death. His journey would be long and treacherous, but he refused to let the darkness consume him.

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[A Few Weeks Later]

Liu's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself in the same dark, dank pit that had become his prison. He was surrounded by a sea of boys, each clad in tattered, filthy rags that barely provided any warmth. The air was thick with the stench of sweat and urine, and the only sources of light were a few chinks in the patched walls.

As always, Liu was the first to awaken. He gazed around the room, taking stock of his surroundings. There were at least fifty children crammed into the small space, each one lost in their own nightmare. They were broken, hopeless, and resigned to their fate.

"It's been two weeks," Liu murmured to himself, the words a bitter reminder of his predicament. Since the brutal death of his parents and the destruction of his former life, Liu had been forced to confront the harsh realities of this new world.

He had been born and raised in Weiji, a tiny settlement nestled in the mountains. It had been his paradise, a place where he knew everyone and everything. But that paradise had been shattered when the bandits attacked, snatching Liu and his fellow villagers away to be sold as slaves.

Their buyer was a man named Nuli Fanzi, a wealthy and powerful figure who controlled dozens of similar sites. Liu could only recognize a handful of faces in the cramped room, which meant that Nuli Fanzi's reach extended far beyond what he could imagine.

"What should I do?" Liu asked himself as he scanned the bleak room. This question had tormented him since the day he arrived. Soon, the overseer would arrive with the day's meager meal. After they ate, they would be forced to take a walk outside, followed by a tally to ensure they were all accounted for.

The remainder of their day would be spent cooped up in the same room they were imprisoned in. The monotony of this routine had numbed Liu's mind to the breaking point. But he was stronger than that.

Liu knew what was going on, at least to some extent. The overseers were keeping them active, but not with harsh labor, and they weren't brutalizing them. It could only mean one thing: they were being prepared for sale.

They needed to be healthy and presentable to attract the highest possible profit. Liu gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, and he despised the fact that he was treated like nothing more than livestock.

"They are taking good care of us so they can sell us like objects," Liu muttered to himself.

Despite the despair that threatened to engulf him, Liu drew strength from a promise he had made to himself. He had to survive. Remembering this, he took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings once more.

He refused to let his captors break him. Liu steeled his resolve and vowed to outlast them. The thought of a better future kept him going, even when everything seemed bleak. He clung to hope like a lifeline and refused to give up.

"Be calm, Liu. Remember the promise... Survive!" he whispered to himself, his eyes flashing with determination.

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On this particular day, the slaves were treated to a feast unlike any they had experienced before. The wardens, who were typically stingy with rations, seemed to have grown magnanimous overnight. But any person with a modicum of common sense could deduce the true reason behind this sudden generosity: today was the day the slaves would be sold.

Five thousand boys and girls were huddled together, preparing for the tally that would precede the sale. The event was the brainchild of Nuli Fanzi, the most influential slave trader in the region. He had orchestrated a massive commerce, and every child's fate hung in the balance.

As the tallying began, each child trembled with fear. They were aware that their future hung in the balance. The wealthy purchasers would soon flock to the stalls, selecting whichever child struck their fancy.

But amidst the chaos, a shivering, scrawny child caught the warden's attention. Number 1078 was clearly unwell, foaming at the mouth, and unsteady on his feet. His dark hair and wide eyes betrayed his fear. When the warden called out to him, the boy didn't respond, his eyes rolling back in his head.

The wardens recognized the severity of the situation, and a wave of panic swept through the gathering.

"Poisoning?" the warden exclaimed.

The sudden turn of events brought the entire harvest to an abrupt pause. The fate of the remaining slaves hung in the balance, and they could only watch in horror as events unfolded.

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[A/N]

Sorry if it's still slow. I made the pace faster, but not too fast. I won't be dwelling too much on his slavery, though.

Just keep going with me.