In the thirty-seventh year of the Xuanwu era of Great Zhou, winter.
The Northern Di cavalry swept south, broke through three passes in a row, and trampled the borderland snow beneath their hooves as they made straight for North-Rejecting City.
The blood on the city walls hadn't yet congealed, but beneath them, the bodies were already piled into a mountain.
The icy wind carried smoke and an overpowering stench of blood, shoving it all into Li Jinshui's nose. He clenched his back teeth until they creaked, dragging a corpse so mangled it barely looked human. Step by staggering step, he hauled it toward a handcart.
It was the eleventh body he'd moved that day.
"Quit dawdling, you little shit! If this batch isn't cleared by nightfall, nobody eats!" The overseer's whip cracked against the frozen ground, scattering flecks of snow across Li Jinshui's face.
He didn't answer. His arms tensed as he heaved the corpse onto the cart. Seven or eight bodies were already piled there—Zhou Army soldiers and Barbarian Soldiers, severed hands and feet tangled together until it was impossible to tell who was who.
He gasped for breath, but the white mist left his mouth only to be torn apart by the wind.
He'd been in this godforsaken place for three whole months.
In his previous life, he'd been a programmer. On his way home after working overtime, a drunk truck driver had hit him and sent him flying. When he opened his eyes again, he'd become an orphan in North-Rejecting City, his parents both dead. He had the same name, and was seventeen.
His predecessor's memories were as fragmented as a shattered bowl. His parents had died of a plague three years earlier, and he'd survived on the meager handouts from his Lineage, living in a drafty old house in the west of the city. His greatest wish was to save enough silver to study martial arts at Zhenwei Martial Hall.
In this world, where martial artists could pierce the heavens, training in martial arts was the only hope for someone crawling out of the mud.
But the Martial Hall charged ten taels just to get through the door, and the medicinal meals and weapons afterward were an endless pit. Li Jinshui had scraped together only two taels by emptying his family's savings. The rest, he could only earn with his life.
Moving corpses paid thirty copper coins apiece.
Dirty, exhausting, unlucky work. But the pay was prompt.
"Thirteen bodies today. Three hundred and ninety copper coins." The bookkeeper worked his abacus without even bothering to look up, then clattered the coins onto the table.
Li Jinshui counted them carefully twice, wrapped them in a scrap of cloth, and tucked them into the innermost pocket against his chest. Even through his padded coat, the coins' chill seemed to pierce his flesh.
With what he'd saved before, he finally had ten taels.
His heart suddenly pounded like a war drum. He turned and headed home, quickening his pace until he was almost running.
Go home, get the money, sign up!
As he crossed the back alley, he made a point of buying two meat buns, steaming hot in their oil-paper wrapping. He deserved a treat today.
When he pushed open the creaking wooden door, he froze in the doorway.
Five or six people sat inside. The Lineage Head, Li Houde, occupied the only intact chair, leisurely sipping water from a coarse porcelain bowl. His second and third uncles stood on either side like two door gods. His cousin, Li Jinbao, lounged on the edge of the kang. His brand-new black official uniform stood out, and a wooden badge hung at his waist, carved with the character "Constable."
"You're back, Jinshui." Li Houde set down his bowl, his face spreading into a broad smile. "We've been waiting for you."
Li Jinshui's heart sank. His gaze swept across the room. The kang mat had been lifted, and the wall cavity where he'd hidden his silver gaped wide open, completely empty.
"Where's my silver?" His throat was dry.
"What do you mean, your silver?" Li Jinbao crossed one leg over the other, the tip of his boot swinging smugly. "That was the Lineage's silver. Grandfather gave it to me to grease a few palms. See this? I'm a constable! From now on, our Li family will have a name and a place in North-Rejecting City!"
Li Jinshui's mind rang as if something had exploded.
He made his way to the wall cavity, one step at a time, and reached inside. His fingers found only cold, rough bricks.
Ten taels. Three months. Ten taels earned from hauling corpses one by one.
"That was money I earned." He turned, his eyes fixed on Li Houde. "After my parents died, the Lineage gave me this broken-down house and never gave me so much as a grain of rice. I earned that money hauling dead people!"
"You ungrateful little bastard!" His second uncle roared. "How dare you speak to the Lineage Head that way? Jinbao becoming a constable benefits the whole Li Lineage! You're a member of the Li family. Contributing some silver is only right!"
"Only right?" Li Jinshui laughed, his eyes bloodshot. "When my parents died, which of you paid for even a thin coffin? When I was so hungry I had to dig up wild greens, which of you gave me even half a bowl of stale porridge? And now you're talking to me about the Lineage?"
Li Houde's expression turned completely cold. "Jinshui, you're young and don't understand. Only when the Lineage prospers can individuals live well. Now that Jinbao has a future, he'll naturally look after you. Here, I've already found you a way out—"
He beckoned toward the door.
Two men in military uniforms strode inside, carrying themselves like swaggering soldiers, their sabers slapping against their thighs.
"North-Rejecting City's garrison is recruiting laborers. They provide food and lodging, and pay twenty copper coins a day. You look strong enough, so I've already signed you up." Li Houde pulled a sheet of paper from his robe and slapped it onto the table. "Report to North City Barracks first thing tomorrow morning."
Li Jinshui snatched up the paper.
It wasn't labor duty.
It was the Death Squad Camp—commonly known as the cannon fodder camp. They charged at the front during battle and stayed behind at the rear during retreats. Of every ten men who went in, nine never came back.
"You... sold me?" His voice trembled.
"What do you mean, sold?" His third uncle cut in. "This is for your own good! At least you'll get a meal in the Death Squad Camp. With your pathetic self, you still think you can practice martial arts? Dream on!"
Li Jinbao walked over and patted his shoulder. His lowered voice was full of smug satisfaction. "Brother, don't blame me. Blame your bad luck for being born into the wrong family. Don't worry. Once you're dead, I'll burn paper money for you every year."
The two soldiers came forward and clamped onto Li Jinshui from either side like iron pincers.
"Come on, kid. You've signed the papers, so you're in the military register. Desertion means—death."
Li Jinshui struggled desperately, but the strength he'd gained from three months of hauling corpses was nothing against real soldiers. They dragged him outside. He looked back one last time—
Li Houde picked up his bowl and continued drinking. Li Jinbao touched his badge, beaming. His second and third uncles huddled together, grinning from ear to ear.
Snow and wind poured down his collar, the cold biting to the bone.
They tossed him onto a battered horse cart. Seven or eight gaunt men were already huddled in the compartment, their eyes as lifeless as dead fish. The cart jolted toward the north of the city, while North-Rejecting City's scattered lights grew farther and farther away.
In the darkness, Li Jinshui curled up in a corner, his fingernails digging deep into his palms.
Hate.
A hatred he'd never felt before surged from the bottom of his heart like a poisonous vine, growing wildly and squeezing the breath from his lungs.
The cart suddenly lurched violently, slamming into a rock. Li Jinshui's head crashed against the wooden floor. As pain exploded through him, a cold, emotionless mechanical voice rang deep in his mind:
[Strong will to survive detected... Enemy-Slaying System binding in progress...]
[Host will gain Kill Points for killing enemies]
Li Jinshui froze, then felt all the blood in his body rush to his head.
A cheat... it had come!
A moment later, a semi-transparent status panel unfolded before his eyes:
[Name: Li Jinshui]
[Realm: Ordinary Person]
[Cultivation Method: None]
[Points: 0]
The cart rolled into a heavily fortified camp.
The lantern hanging from the gate swayed in the wind, its dim yellow light illuminating three dark characters on the plaque:
Death Squad Camp.
On either side of the camp gate stood two rows of wooden stakes. A corpse was nailed to each one, frozen into a rigid ice sculpture, its face twisted in agony.
The soldier driving the cart kicked the compartment. "Get out! We're here!"
Li Jinshui jumped down. Wind and snow slammed into him.
He lifted his head toward the dark tents deeper in the camp, then turned to look back in the direction where North-Rejecting City had vanished.
The system interface floated dimly before his eyes, glowing faintly.
"Li Houde... Li Jinbao..."
He murmured the two names, his teeth grinding together.
"Wait for me."
The storm intensified, as if it meant to swallow the whole world.
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