Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The crying and screaming next door went on for half the night.

This was always what happened when a newcomer was brought into the fold.

After the broker had been paid and the deal was done, there came endless humiliation. Every method imaginable would be used until a person’s dignity was ground to dust, until they were turned into a walking corpse with no thoughts of their own.

“I never wanted to drag anyone else into this in my place.”

I let go of Gu Changfeng.

Sure enough, a variable was still a variable. It could play a role beyond anything I had imagined, and naturally, it could also slip beyond my control and push things in a completely uncontrollable direction.

The bamboo chopstick that had long since lost its usefulness was taken out once more.

I put on a smile, went up to the madam, and linked my arm through hers.

“What are you so angry about, Mama? Let me talk to her.”

“A virgin maiden will always fetch a better price than one who’s already been used. She’s already in the house anyway. No matter how impatient you are, Mama, there’s no need to rush it this one night.”

The old madam spat viciously toward the mud-brick room.

“Putting on airs like she’s so pure.”

But when she turned back again, the disgust on her face had already been replaced by a warm, affectionate smile.

The old madam patted my hand as though I really were her own daughter.

“In the end, you’re the thoughtful one. Mama will give you this much face. Just one night.”

The low wooden door closed. The old madam took Master Liang, who still hadn’t given up, away with her. Gu Changfeng stood guard at the door in his place, keeping watch so I couldn’t help anyone escape.

The little girl, still childish in the face, was covered in bruises, trembling as she huddled in the corner.

I took a deep breath, picked up the bamboo chopstick, and handed it to her.

“You…”

The girl stared blankly at the chopstick, its surface polished bright from the countless times I had rubbed it between my fingers.

Then, in the next instant, the sharpened point pierced my throat.

Blood sprayed out with a hiss, mixed with air. Some hazy thought flashed through my already muddled mind, and in the end, it turned into one utterly pointless sigh.

What accuracy.

I stopped thinking about picking up Gu Changfeng again.

Variables couldn’t be relied on. In the end, I still had to grind experience on my own.

Compassion was the cheapest joke in this courtyard.

People who suffered the same fate didn’t necessarily share the same values. I wanted to take them with me and escape this pit of fire, while all they thought about was how to step on me so they could climb out themselves.

I began to adjust my mindset. At worst, I would just have to return to the respawn point a few more times. I’d get used to it.

I absolutely couldn’t run during the day. There were too many people around, too many eyes watching. Anyone could shout once and have me dragged back.

I could try to run at night, carefully, but once curfew began and the ward gates were locked, the night watchmen on patrol could catch me easily too.

The rat poison still had to be used when it was time to use it. They were only NPCs. Killing one and killing a whole group made no difference.

Only, after slaughtering my way through the courtyard, I couldn’t stupidly sit around waiting for the constables to enter the stage. Otherwise, I would be locked in prison until I died.

I picked up a half-burned little stick from the firewood pile. Every time I died in a run, I reorganized my escape route from the beginning.

At the fifth watch, the night watchman would pass by the courtyard gate for the third time, then continue along his route from east to west.

The donkey cart delivering water would knock open the ward gate just as the sky began to brighten, and the bailiffs patrolling the outer street would happen to be passing by.

The clerk guarding the gate would lose his temper because his pleasant dream had been interrupted, then use the registration process to pocket a little extra money.

Once the gate opened, the donkey cart would head east, the bailiffs would pass along the west street, and the clerk closing the gate would glance outside.

A pincer attack from three sides. But this was my only chance.

I could use the tiny opening created by the clerk and the water seller haggling back and forth, hug the blind spot along the edge of the water buckets, slip out through the crack in the gate, then seize that sliver of time before all three lines of sight converged and run to the corner of the house across the street. I’d hide under the eaves by the roof ridge and wait until everyone had gone far away.

The plan was perfect. The execution was a failure.

There was too little time, the street was too empty, and I ran too slowly.

I was caught twice by the gate clerk, kicked three times by the water seller’s donkey, and chased down a whole street by the bailiffs patrolling outside before being summarily executed on the spot.

By now, I was used to dying in circles.

With practiced ease, I hid behind the haystack at the mouth of the alley, clutching the fire striker I’d swiped from the old madam’s courtyard, and thought that if I really couldn’t make it across this time, I might as well set a fire.

A fire was a serious matter. The yamen runners patrolling the outer street would definitely be alerted. Once the gate opened, if I pretended to help fetch water to put out the fire and slipped out with the crowd, it might even be more reliable.