"Throw him off Chaotic Corpse Cliff!"
Half-conscious, Wenren Sheng heard a voice and felt himself being disdainfully tossed into a flatbed cart by two men.
Then a foul-smelling corpse was thrown on top of him.
For someone who had always been impeccably clean, this was truly an immense trial of the spirit.
He kept feeling that something was off about this script.
But he had read it beforehand, so he had nothing to complain about.
All he could say was that a script was ultimately just words. It could not possibly fully recreate reality.
The script had only one sentence: "People ate people." How horrific would that be in reality? Endure it.
He was already content not to have become a eunuch like his father, Old Li the driver, or Old Wu his father-in-law.
The cart jolted violently along a dirt road. Choking dust filled his nose, and hot sweat beaded on his face.
Everything before him was dark. The sun must have been scorching.
"That Blind Guo is truly pitiful. He never had a full meal from childhood, crawled through mud every day, and when he died, he did not even have a ragged straw mat," sighed one old farmer pulling the cart.
"At least he lived to seventeen. My boy was beaten to death with one palm strike by the Second Young Master under the pretext of martial arts training when he was eleven. Poor thing, only eleven years old, and the sole male heir for three generations," the other Old Man pulling the cart began to weep.
"Old Wu Tou, are you tired of living? You must not say such things. Repeat after me: born in the manor."
"Born in the manor," Old Wu Tou said dully.
"Die in the manor."
"Die in the manor."
The two