Wan Lihan looked down at the old iron hammer he had used to fight back ten days ago. With trembling, mud-caked hands, he drove the heavy iron head into the soft dirt at the top of the grave, creating a crude tombstone. He didn't know how to read or write the characters for his father's name, Wan Shu. He simply fell to his knees, clutching his chest, and whispered into the wind:
Father Wan Shu... please watch over me."
Turning his back on the ruins, he walked away. He dragged his small, exhausted body up the mountain path the exact place where his mother and father had once taken him to look at the vast, beautiful view. As he reached the peak, a sharp whistling sound cut through the clouds. Lihan looked up and gasped.
High above, a cultivator in flowing robes was flying through the sky, standing effortlessly on top of a glowing sword.
Is that an immortal? Lihan thought, his eyes wide. He remembered his father's warm voice from the past, telling him stories by the fireplace.
Papa always said the immortals give us blessings... but why didn't they come to save us? Why didn't they stop the blood?
<span;>The flying figure vanished into the mist, leaving the boy alone in the cold. Realizing the heavens wouldn't answer him, Lihan descended the other side of the mountain. Through the trees, he spotted a familiar house nearby.
Hope sparking in his chest, he ran over as fast as his small legs could carry him.
But when he pushed open the door, his heart stopped.
Three bloody bodies lay stretched across the floor—a man, a woman, and their young son. It was Sui Ming, Lihan's best friend. They used to chase each other through the dirt every single afternoon.
Lihan dropped to his knees, his mind rushing back to their happiest moments together. He could still hear Sui Ming’s excited voice echoing in his ears:
''Li Han! We are going to be immortals! The travelers said becoming an immortal will make us rich!" and his own childhood voice shouting back, "Yes! We are going to be immortals together!"
Now, Sui Ming was gone.
Tears burning his eyes, Lihan forced his bleeding hands to work again. He dug into the earth, dragging the three bodies into the ground. Standing over the fresh dirt, his voice hardened into something cold:
"Brother Ming... I will become an Immortal. And I will get revenge for you too. I swear it."
On the wooden table inside the dead family's house, he found two pieces of stale bread. He grabbed them tightly and ran.
He wandered until he reached the edge of a nearby city, stopping in front of an massive, luxurious estate. "A big house," he whispered. Starving and desperate, he managed to scramble up the high stone wall and dropped into the courtyard, trying to find any scraps of food. But a heavy hand instantly grabbed him by the collar.
A tall man stared down at the trespassing child. Lihan flinched, fiercely hugging the stolen bread to his chest, expecting to be beaten to death. But the man simply sighed, letting go of his collar. "Take it and leave," the man said roughly.
Lihan didn't wait. He scrambled out into the streets, shoving the warm bread into his mouth, eating frantically as a heavy downpour began to flood the stone roads. He hid deep inside a dark alley, chewing on the last crusts, shivering violently as he remembered the warmth of his mother and father. Exhausted, cold, and entirely alone, he curled into a ball and fell into a deep, shaking sleep.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
He never saw the shadows creeping into the alley.
Look at this one," a cruel voice muttered. A servant seller, hunting the slums for runaway children, looked down at the sleeping boy. "He's still kicking. Grab him."
Lihan jolted awake as two large accomplices pinned his arms to the ground. He fought back like a wild animal, kicking and biting with all his might, but his child's body was completely overpowered. A heavy iron shackle was violently slammed around his ankles.
A fist struck his temple, and everything went black
When Lihan woke up, the air was hot, thick, and smelled of sweat and alcohol. He was locked in a wooden cage beneath a brightly lit stage. He was inside an underground auction.
The servant seller dragged him up the steps, shouting to a crowd of wealthy buyers sitting at hundreds of tables: "Look at this kid! He survived ten days alone in the wilderness! He is strong, unbroken, and perfect to be a farmer, a cleaner, or whatever pleases you!"
Immediately, a loud voice shouted from the audience: "
Table 467 bids two gold coins!"
'''Table 23 bids four gold coins!" another roared.
'Table 76 bids five gold coins!"
The room suddenly went entirely quiet. Five gold coins was an immense amount of money for a single child slave.
The auctioneer slammed his wooden gavel. "Five gold coins going once... five gold coins going twice... Sold to the Senior at Table 76!"
Through the bars of his cage, Wan Lihan stared coldly at the crowd. He was being sold like an animal for five pieces of gold. But behind his flat, unyielding eyes, his mind was already memorizing the faces of every single person in the room.
Wan Lihan looked down at the old iron hammer he had used to fight back ten days ago. With trembling, mud-caked hands, he drove the heavy iron head into the soft dirt at the top of the grave, creating a crude tombstone. He didn't know how to read or write the characters for his father's name, Wan Shu. He simply fell to his knees, clutching his chest, and whispered into the wind:
''Father Wan Shu... please watch over me."
Turning his back on the ruins, he walked away. He dragged his small, exhausted body up the mountain path the exact place where his mother and father had once taken him to look at the vast, beautiful view. As he reached the peak, a sharp whistling sound cut through the clouds. Lihan looked up and gasped.
High above, a cultivator in flowing robes was flying through the sky, standing effortlessly on top of a glowing sword.
Is that an immortal? Lihan thought, his eyes wide. He remembered his father's warm voice from the past, telling him stories by the fireplace.
Papa always said the immortals give us blessings... but why didn't they come to save us? Why didn't they stop the blood?
The flying figure vanished into the mist, leaving the boy alone in the cold. Realizing the heavens wouldn't answer him, Lihan descended the other side of the mountain. Through the trees, he spotted a familiar house nearby.
Hope sparking in his chest, he ran over as fast as his small legs could carry him.
But when he pushed open the door, his heart stopped.
Three bloody bodies lay stretched across the floor—a man, a woman, and their young son. It was Sui Ming, Lihan's best friend. They used to chase each other through the dirt every single afternoon.
Lihan dropped to his knees, his mind rushing back to their happiest moments together. He could still hear Sui Ming’s excited voice echoing in his ears:
'cLi Han! We are going to be immortals! The travelers said becoming an immortal will make us rich!" and his own childhood voice shouting back, "Yes! We are going to be immortals together!"
Now, Sui Ming was gone.
Tears burning his eyes, Lihan forced his bleeding hands to work again. He dug into the earth, dragging the three bodies into the ground. Standing over the fresh dirt, his voice hardened into something cold:
"Brother Ming... I will become an Immortal. And I will get revenge for you too. I swear it."
On the wooden table inside the dead family's house, he found two pieces of stale bread. He grabbed them tightly and ran.
He wandered until he reached the edge of a nearby city, stopping in front of an massive, luxurious estate. "A big house," he whispered. Starving and desperate, he managed to scramble up the high stone wall and dropped into the courtyard, trying to find any scraps of food. But a heavy hand instantly grabbed him by the collar.
A tall man stared down at the trespassing child. Lihan flinched, fiercely hugging the stolen bread to his chest, expecting to be beaten to death. But the man simply sighed, letting go of his collar. "Take it and leave," the man said roughly.
Lihan didn't wait. He scrambled out into the streets, shoving the warm bread into his mouth, eating frantically as a heavy downpour began to flood the stone roads. He hid deep inside a dark alley, chewing on the last crusts, shivering violently as he remembered the warmth of his mother and father. Exhausted, cold, and entirely alone, he curled into a ball and fell into a deep, shaking sleep.
He never saw the shadows creeping into the alley.
"Look at this one," a cruel voice muttered. A servant seller, hunting the slums for runaway children, looked down at the sleeping boy. "He's still kicking. Grab Him!
Lihan jolted awake as two large accomplices pinned his arms to the ground. He fought back like a wild animal, kicking and biting with all his might, but his child's body was completely overpowered. A heavy iron shackle was violently slammed around his ankles.
A fist struck his temple, and everything went black When Lihan woke up, the air was hot, thick, and smelled of sweat and alcohol. He was locked in a wooden cage beneath a brightly lit stage. He was inside an underground auction.
The servant seller dragged him up the steps, shouting to a crowd of wealthy buyers sitting at hundreds of tables: "Look at this kid! He survived ten days alone in the wilderness! He is strong, unbroken, and perfect to be a farmer, a cleaner, or whatever pleases you!"
Immediately, a loud voice shouted from the audience: "
Table 467 bids two gold coins!"
'cTable 23 bids four gold coins!" another roared.
"Table 76 bids five gold coins!
The room suddenly went entirely quiet. Five gold coins was an immense amount of money for a single child slave.
The auctioneer slammed his wooden gavel. "Five gold coins going once... five gold coins going twice... Sold to the Senior at Table 76!"
Through the bars of his cage, Wan Lihan stared coldly at the crowd. He was being sold like an animal for five pieces of gold. But behind his flat, unyielding eyes, his mind was already memorizing the faces of every single person in the room.