“Mm~ Not bad, little one. You brought us quite a bit of money again today.”
The tall man in front of me laughed greasily.
After counting the money, he rubbed my head with his hands caked in mud.
“Mm.”
I could only nod in response, forcing a smile.
But they couldn’t tell I was faking it.
That’s my special skill.
This is a hideout.
Those cultivators of low cultivation, lacking talent and too lazy to put in any effort, come to this remote town to bully the weak.
They forcibly take over other people’s homes, then kidnap children from who-knows-where and make those kids sit on the streets begging.
Those who disobey don’t get to eat, or they get beaten up.
Occasionally, there are those hot-blooded types who try to resist, who try to run away.
The result is that they get their legs chopped off and are sent to the streets to beg in an even more pitiful state.
Ironically, that earns even more money.
But the adults who toss them a few coins have no idea how much harm this does to those hot-blooded ones.
What they want is to escape, to be free.
They don’t want to work for the wicked.
Yet the result is that they lose their freedom, can never escape, and even end up working better for the wicked.
In the hideout, children starve to death or are beaten to death every day.
But it doesn’t matter.
The next day, new replacements will fill the vacancies.
And me?
I’m the hideout’s equivalent of a top earner.
At age three, my birth parents sold me to my foster parents.
Because they discovered I had grown strange ears and a tail, and my hair had changed color—white—along with red eyes, all omens of misfortune.
At age five, my foster parents sold me again, this time to human traffickers.
I was taken to an old, dilapidated house.
There, besides me, there were over a dozen other kids around my age.
Our assigned task was to go to different places, each of us begging on the streets, then bring back all the money.
If the amount didn’t satisfy them, we’d go hungry or be punished.
As for those who did “poor business,” the light punishment was starving for a few days and getting beaten a few times.
The heavy punishment was having their hands and feet cut off, then begging as disabled people.
Fortunately, I’ve been good at pretending since I was little.
It’s like an inborn talent.
That made me the most favored child in that den.
But I know they don’t like me.
They like what I can bring in.
Normally, I wear a hooded cloak to hide my ears and tail.
I dye my white hair black with ink.
My eyes, there’s nothing I can do about.
Today, I brought these bastards a few taels of silver again.
They were very happy and gave me some bread that wasn’t yet rotten.
So I sat there, eating my bread, watching the kids who did “worse” than me get whipped, my face expressionless.
What expression should I make?
If I showed even a hint of sympathy, those guys would come after me.
“If you feel bad for him, then you can take on his share of the money.”
They’d definitely say that.
And if I begged for mercy for him, that would be asking for trouble.
So, expressionless is my expression.
Besides, being born ugly and stupid is their fault, not mine.
As long as I take care of myself, that’s fine.
And one day, I’ll leave this place.
After finishing the bread, I slept on the wooden bed that was hard and uncomfortable, but I was long used to it.
The next morning, I got up on time, ate breakfast, and went out to beg.
Of course, I couldn’t earn that much money by begging alone.
I’m really afraid of pain, so if I don’t have enough money before going back to turn it in, I steal from other people.
Today’s target was a pretty good-looking adult with a white gourd hanging from his waist.
He was dressed well and looked wealthy.
That gourd of his alone looked valuable.
I was walking toward him from the opposite direction.
Just as we were about to pass each other, I bumped into him.
“Ah! Sorry, sorry, big brother, sorry, sor—”
Huh?
What’s going on?
Why didn’t I reach out my hand?
The moment I bumped into him, I pretended to fall and sat down on the ground.
But just as I looked up, about to reach for his gourd, he also lowered his head, and our eyes met.
Damn… what’s happening…
My chest feels so tight… my head is burning… why is this happening…
What is it about this man?
He’s different from everyone I’ve ever met…
He’s… too handsome… but besides that… what is that clear, pure feeling?
“Are you okay?”
He reached out his hand to me.
My body moved on its own, placing my hand in his.
He pulled me up and even brushed the dust off my clothes.
“Sorry, I was lost in thought and wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“N-no problem…”
I couldn’t take my eyes off his face, only able to murmur like I was sleepwalking.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Seeing the concern in his eyes, I finally snapped out of it.
I quickly turned around, patted my cheeks, and woke myself up.
Turning back, I put on my usual fake smile, looked up at him, and smiled:
“I’m okay. Thank you, big brother.”
He looked into my eyes, opened his mouth, but then closed it again.
He smiled bitterly and shook his head: “Good. Then I’ll be going.”
“Mm, goodbye, big brother.”
Watching his retreating back, I looked down at my empty hand.
Then I looked down again and saw my empty money pouch.
I could already see my future.
…
“Smack!”
The man slapped me to the ground.
“Useless! I feed you all that good stuff, and this is all you bring back?! What good are you!”
With that, he raised his leg, ready to kick me.
I held my face with one hand and braced myself on the ground with the other, squeezing my eyes shut.
But the pain never came.
I slowly opened my eyes.
Another man had stopped the one about to kick me.
“Don’t be so irritable. Maybe Yuying is just having an off day. She’ll be back to normal tomorrow, right?”
That man smiled like a fox.
So disgusting.
It was the same kind of smile as the man from this morning.
Both were equally handsome.
But the feeling was completely different.
This morning, that man’s smile was like clear water under sunlight—a gentle stream, crystal clear, dazzling as if sprinkled with golden light.
But the man in front of me, though handsome as jade, smiled like a venomous scorpion.
All I felt was a creepy, chilling sensation down my spine.
“Come, Yuying, get up.”
The man smiled and reached out his hand to me.
I didn’t want to, but I had no choice.
I placed my hand in his, and he pulled me to my feet.
“Hungry? Have something to eat.”
He handed me a piece of bread.
I took it automatically, but just as I was about to take a bite, I noticed—the bread was already rotten, even covered in maggots.
I looked up at the man.
He looked down at me, still smiling.
“Hm?”
He tilted his head slightly.
“N-nothing…”
The maggots were crawling all over the bread.
I swallowed hard, gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and shoved the whole thing into my mouth.
The sour, stinking juice of the maggots exploded in my mouth—a hundred times more disgusting than sewage.
The maggots I hadn’t bitten through wriggled against the inside of my cheeks, itching and stinging, even biting back into my flesh.
“Urgh…”
Bile rose from my stomach.
I nearly vomited everything back up.
But I held my breath and finally forced it all down.