ZHAN SHENG LAY on his back in the snow, watching Xing Junwei wave a small whip in his hand. "See if you can run! You little demon!"
Zhan Sheng's face stung, the skin on his lip was split, his cheeks were puffy and his eyes were black and blue. There was dried blood on his brow, under his nose, and on the corners of his mouth. His body was even more appalling with swelling and bruises covering almost every inch of skin, there was no place on his flesh that wasn't marred by injury.
Yet, he glared up at Xing Junwei defiantly. "I'm not a demon!"
Xing Junwei puffed his cheeks, his fine robes swaying in the brusque winter winds and his hair crown situated on top of his little head. The delta held a sadistic glint in his eyes.
"Demon! Demon! Demon!" he cried viciously, stamping his tiny feet in the snow. "You stole my Tang Yuan demon and now you'll pay for it."
Zhan Sheng did nothing of the sort.
Xing Junwei always ate his candies when his mother, Xing Yuerong wasn't looking and then he blamed it on Zhan Sheng when she asked him where they had gone.
Zhan Sheng had watched Xing Junwei stealthily grab a bowl filled with chewy glutinous rice balls, oozing with sweet sesame paste, and cautiously popped one in his mouth. Xing Junwei's face was covered in bliss as he savored the soft, sticky texture and the explosion of nutty, sugary flavor, while anxiously looking around to make sure he wasn't caught. With each bite, Xing Junwei turned into a rabid dog, stuffing his face until it was done.
Then Xing Yuerong came in, her eyes blazing as she looked at the empty bowl of Tang Yuan meant for the guests that were arriving for the Winter Solstice Festival. With his knees knocking together, Xing Junwei had taken one look at Zhan Sheng standing around minding his own business and said. "He did! The little demon stole it!" Even with crumbs sliding down his cheeks and his fingers sticky with sugar.
Xing Yueron's anger had been a raging river, but soon turned into a gentle stream, she cupped his chubby little face and dabbed at his cheeks, and then said. "Very well, how does my little Xing-pumpkin-darling-nutty-butt plan to deal with him?"
Zhan Sheng "…!"
"Father gave me a new whip," he had said.
"Good, take him out back and beat him. In the future, you must never let servants steal from you."
"Yes, mother!"
But that was then and this was now. Zhan Sheng lay on his back in the snow, his body shivering from the biting cold. He had nothing to shield himself with except for the ragged clothes on his back. The tattered rags were once a dark shade of blue, but now they were faded and threadbare, offering little protection against the harsh winter winds.
Xing Junwei lifted the whip and lashed it, trying to cleave Zhan Sheng in two, but he rolled away, dodging it. However, the minute he tried to get up to move, several of Xing Junwei's friends came to hold him down. Xing Junwei raised the whip and lashed at his threadbare robes, although it didn't hurt much it was still extremely humiliating. Zhan Sheng gritted his teeth, rage rushing through him like currents. He had to control himself. The last time he fought back against the little master, he had been beaten for weeks by the sect master Xing Junwei. Zhan Sheng hated the Knowledge Sect to death. They weren't large enough to be a part of the main sects, but they weren't small either stuck somewhere in the middle, with Xing Junwei acting as the Minister of Rights to the Emperor.
"Demon! Demon! Demon!" Xing Junwei sang, brandishing his whip and laughing crazily as if he were thrusting out a line and catching fish. It was one word Zhan Sheng hated most in this world.
He was not a demon. Xing Junwei knew that and still tormented him day and night by calling him that. Demons were lowly creatures without form, succubus and sucking the life out of every living creature. The demon realm had been sealed for centuries by the powerful cultivator Zi Yijun rumor to be at the Void Refinement stage from the Sun Ocean Palace sect. Only a few demons were caught roaming the earth and when they were they were killed almost instantly.
Zhan Sheng wasn't a demon, but he knew he wasn't exactly normal either. His Qi was strangely mixed with a dark aura, a blackened mist that when tampered with exploded into insurmountable rage. It scared him most times because he couldn't control it and he didn't know what was happening to him. Zhan Sheng's body trembled as the devil's blood threatened to take control, but he fought against it with all his strength. Things would be worse if he did. Zhan Sheng gritted his teeth and took the beating, his robes nearly torn off his shoulders. Zhan Sheng peaked at the children surrounding him, there were five of them, including Xing Junwei. They were all around the same age some varying between eight and nine, and most of them were from noble sects nearby.
"Had enough demon?" Xing Junwei taunted. "My father wants to sell you soon. You're a worthless servant anyway!"
Zhan Sheng lay there shivering, he couldn't bring himself to care. Being sold was better than being here that's for sure.
"Too bad your dog mother died early," Xing Junwei continued. "We could have kicked her corpse for a while longer!"
All the other boys laughed at that and Zhan Sheng saw red. He remembers his mother shielding him to her chest, huddling closer whispering kind words in his ear as they beat her until her body had gone cold. He still remembered the blood dripping down her lips, her eyes wide open and glassy as if she were staring at the sea. Zhan Sheng didn't cry anymore, he didn't know how to because all the tears had dried up. Zhan Sheng stopped breathing, he lay there in the snow sucking in peels of air trying to calm down, trying not to let this strange aura overtake him. It was too late.
"What's that? Give up? Soon you'll be dog meat," Xing Junwei said waving his whip like a conductor.
Zhan Sheng snarled, launching out of the encircle, and tackling Xing Junwei to the ground. Zhan Sheng's fists rained down on Xing Junwei while he screamed and cried for mercy. Each hit made Xing Junwei's head snap back, slamming against the cold hard ground while he wailed miserably. The other boys were so shocked until finally, they sprung into action dragging Zhan Sheng away who had turned into a growling beast. Zhan Sheng bit onto Xing Junwei's sleeve and didn't let go, even when the boys cried for help.
"Stop it!" the servants rushed over trying to break the boys up. But Zhan Sheng was like a wild wolf, biting and scratching at anything he can reach, his mind roiling with rage. If he was going to die, he might as well take Xing Junwei with him. One of the older servants panics and grabbed the nearest object hitting Zhan Sheng over the head.
Zhan Sheng's vision fractured like shattered glass, blood pour down his face and he dropped like a sack in the snow. The servants rushed like mad to Xing Junwei who was screeching at the top of his lungs, his face covered in cuts and bruises and three of his front teeth missing.
The servants were deathly afraid of being blamed for this and took the young master inside, doing their best to console him while he cried.
Nobody looked at Zhan Sheng who lay in the snow, the blood running like spilled vermillion ink.
Snow started to fall and it was getting heavier and heavier as the night wore on. Zhan Sheng's robes were soaked, his underwear wet as he lay on his back in the snow. He was going to die.
Zhan Sheng's lips lifted, his consciousness flickering in and out as his mother's face came back before his eyes. He remembered when they first came here, promised employment and fair wages, but what they got instead were harsh beatings and a twisted master. Zhan Mei always said their father would come, that he was a powerful devil from the devil realm and that he would make it someday to find them.
That day never came and now Zhan Sheng lay in the snow, his body growing numb as the icy chill gnawed at him. His mind faded in and out of consciousness, the world around him a blur of white. Blackness danced around the edges of his vision, in the far distance above the wind he heard the sound of a pipa drifting through the air. The notes were like a whisper, delicate and ethereal, a haunting melody that resonated with his soul.
Suddenly, a black figure emerged from the snowstorm, dressed in a dark fur coat. The man's striking features pierced through the haze; his hair was tied up in a half-updo style with a silver Guan on his head. Zhan Sheng was mesmerized by the man's beauty, even in his weakened state. The man knelt, scooping up Zhan Sheng in his strong arms. As the man carried him away from the biting cold, Zhan Sheng felt a jolt of warmth course through his body, a sensation he hadn't felt since his mother's passing.