"What happened?!" The middle-aged man rose at the noise and barked.
"Boss, this kid's so starved he couldn't even hold the bowl," the young man said.
"You can't even handle something this simple? Couldn't you put it on the cart and let him drink it himself?" the middle-aged man said impatiently.
The young man instinctively clenched his fists, but quickly relaxed them again.
"Clean it up. We still have to travel tomorrow." With that, the middle-aged man paid them no further attention.
"Sorry," Xuan Ming said weakly.
The young man, who had been about to vent his anger on Xuan Ming, froze. "What did you say?"
"Sorry for the trouble." Xuan Ming slowly bent down toward the hot porridge he had spilled. Without caring whether it was dirty, he scooped it up with his hand and stuffed it into his mouth.
He was hungry. He had not eaten for days.
If he kept starving, he probably would not die, but he would have no chance whatsoever of escaping.
In this state, like a half-dead dog, even speaking took effort, let alone running away.
"Enough, leave that alone. I'll get you another bowl." The young man seemed to have only recently entered this line of work and was not entirely inhuman. Seeing Xuan Ming like this, he could not quite bear it.
Soon, the young man brought Xuan Ming another bowl of hot porridge, along with a spoon.
This time, he set it straight on the wooden board in front of Xuan Ming.
"Eat."
"Thank you." Xuan Ming lowered his head and wolfed it down.
The young man began cleaning up the spilled porridge as well.
Before long, both had finished what they were doing.
"After you sell me, will you keep doing this?" Xuan Ming asked.
The young man paused. "What do you mean?"
"I heard you talking. I'm worth a lot of money," Xuan Ming said.
"After you sell me, you won't do this kind of thing anymore, right?"
The young man frowned slightly. "Why are you asking?"
"The elders in my village said that men die for wealth, just as birds die for food." Xuan Ming kept his head lowered.
"Being too greedy can cost you your life."
"Since I'm worth so much, once you've sold me and have money, you should stop doing this."
"..."
The young man fell silent for a while, then turned and walked away.
Xuan Ming curled up in the corner again and closed his eyes.
Early the next morning.
Half asleep, Xuan Ming felt something poking his head.
He opened his eyes to find the Black Dragon growing behind him on his left butting its head against him as though it had gone mad.
Even you're bullying me?
Anger rose within him, and Xuan Ming sat up. He would show this dragon who the owner of this body was!
Before Xuan Ming could use the advantage of having hands to teach the disobedient dragon a lesson, the smell of blood drifted into his nose.
Xuan Ming froze slightly, and the crazed Black Dragon stopped as well.
Three heads slowly peered through the cart curtain and looked outside.
A scene both unexpected and understandable unfolded before Xuan Ming's eyes.
The campsite was a wreck, clearly the site of a fierce fight. The middle-aged man leaned beside the fire, gravely wounded and missing an arm. The young man lay a short distance away, covered in blood and long dead. The horse had also been unfortunate enough to get caught up in it and lay brutally slain by the roadside.
In an instant, Xuan Ming filled in the events of the previous night in his mind.
The two had fought over an uneven division of the spoils, and in the end, old ginger was still the spiciest.
"Kid, come here!" The middle-aged man looked weakly at Xuan Ming, forcing a vicious expression onto his face.
Xuan Ming did not move.
"If you don't come here, I'll kill you!" A long, ghostly green sword appeared in the middle-aged man's hand.
That was probably his Martial Soul, a poisonous sword.
Xuan Ming obediently got off the cart.
Or rather, fell off it.
The shackles on his feet were simply too heavy. He could only move slowly by lifting them with both hands.
"Bring that bag over." The middle-aged man pointed his sword at a large leather bag holding water beside the cart.
After glancing at the green-glowing sword in the middle-aged man's hand, Xuan Ming did as he was told.
When he had tried to escape before, this sword had fallen from the sky and stabbed into the ground in front of him.
This man used a flying sword.
"Hurry up!"
Watching Xuan Ming take forever to move a single step, the middle-aged man grew impatient.
"It's too heavy." Dragging the large bag while hauling shackles heavier than himself, Xuan Ming could barely move.
The middle-aged man seemed badly wounded. Having run out of patience, he took the key from his waist and tossed it in front of Xuan Ming.
"Hurry! Don't even think about running!"
Xuan Ming picked up the key, unlocked the shackles, then dragged the large bag over to the middle-aged man.
Only then did he notice that the man's right leg had been severed!
The bloody wound looked as though it had been torn apart by a wild beast's claws. It was utterly horrifying!
Chapter 3: Knockoff cosplay
"Take the medicine out of the bag and bandage me."
The middle-aged man held his sword and gave the order coldly.
"I don't know how to bandage wounds." Xuan Ming opened the bag.
"Do as I say." The middle-aged man rested the eerily green sword on Xuan Ming's shoulder.
Xuan Ming glanced at the sword on his shoulder and nodded.
Under the middle-aged man's instructions, Xuan Ming took out the medicine and supplies for stopping bleeding and dressing wounds, then began clumsily bandaging him.
"Gently!"
"Sprinkle it on! More! That's for stopping the bleeding!"
"Urgh!!!"
"..."
After the tense, nerve-racking bandaging was over, Xuan Ming was nearly exhausted, mostly from the mental strain.
After all, with that eerily green poisonous sword against his neck, he had genuinely feared the fellow might accidentally chop his head off.
But after all Xuan Ming's fumbling, although the middle-aged man's bleeding had stopped and his life had barely been saved, he was almost completely drained. Even his Martial Soul dissipated in his hand.
"Go make me something to eat," the middle-aged man said weakly, his eyes closed.
"Oh." Xuan Ming answered.
Just as he was about to rise, the middle-aged man suddenly opened his eyes, and the eerily green sword reappeared in his hand.
"Go put the shackles on."
Who said everyone on the Douluo Continent was an idiot?
Grumbling inwardly, Xuan Ming obediently walked over and put the shackles back on, once again restricting his movements.
"Bring me the key." The middle-aged man watched Xuan Ming coldly.
Holding up the shackles, Xuan Ming obediently complied.
"Don't think about running," the middle-aged man said coldly.
"I won't give you another chance this time."
Xuan Ming nodded. Holding up the shackles, he began lighting a fire and cooking under the middle-aged man's gaze.
A long while later, the porridge was ready.
Xuan Ming filled a bowl and shuffled over with difficulty.
Before the middle-aged man could say anything, Xuan Ming obligingly scooped up a spoonful and held it before him.
Seeing how well Xuan Ming knew his place, the middle-aged man did not rest the eerily green sword against Xuan Ming's neck as before, though he still held it in his hand.
"Did you kill him?" Xuan Ming asked without warning.
"He attacked first," the middle-aged man said.
"Why?" Xuan Ming asked, though he knew the answer.
"Weren't you on the same side?"
"Men die for wealth, just as birds die for food." The middle-aged man closed his eyes with a mouthful of porridge.
"He was too greedy."
"Is that so..."
Xuan Ming's gaze sharpened, and he suddenly flung the remaining half bowl of porridge straight into the middle-aged man's eyes.
"Aaargh!!!"
The porridge was still scalding hot. The middle-aged man screamed and instinctively moved to swing his sword.
But at the same time he threw the porridge, Xuan Ming controlled the Black Dragon behind him to snap at the man's sword hand, while the other Black Dragon bit at the middle-aged man's severely injured left leg.
Light flashed, and a spear gleaming blood-red appeared in Xuan Ming's right hand.
This was his Second Martial Soul, and also the Martial Soul possessed by the father he had never met, though this thing seemed to have mutated as well.
Xuan Ming gripped the spear with both hands and thrust it at the middle-aged man's heart with all his strength!
Crack!
The sound of breaking bone rang out. Xuan Ming's bad luck struck again: his spear had hit the middle-aged man's breastbone!
At the brink of death, the middle-aged man struggled wildly. Two Soul Rings, one white and one yellow, rose into view, flickering faintly.
A chill gripped Xuan Ming's heart. If he let his opponent unleash a Soul Skill, he was dead!
The next instant, the Yellow Soul Ring flashed, as though announcing the arrival of Xuan Ming's death.
In a split second, the fear of being infinitely close to death turned entirely into rage. Xuan Ming roared. Savage fangs rapidly grew from his mouth, black scales surfaced on his arms, and cold white light surged out of his body.
The middle-aged man's movements inexplicably slowed. Xuan Ming tightened his grip on the spear, raised it with all his strength, and drove it down with all his strength!
Bones shattered. This time, bolstered by tremendous force, the spear did not pause at all. It smashed through the breastbone, pierced the heart, and passed through the middle-aged man's body.
Rumble!!!
Thunder roared and dark clouds churned. Before long, torrential rain poured down, pounding heavily against Xuan Ming.
A glimmer of clarity flashed through Xuan Ming's eyes, and he finally came back to his senses. The middle-aged man whose body he had pierced had long since stopped breathing, and his body was already stiff.
The rain grew heavier, washing away the blood.
By the time the rain stopped and the sky cleared, Xuan Ming had long since fled the scene.