"I don't think that young fellow looks like a shepherd either, all skin and bones. We don't have room for shepherds here," the bowl-holding man chuckled good-naturedly.
Or rather, there's no room here for man-eating Alien Species.
If they figured out that Yu Ziqing was one of the Cannibal shepherds, he'd be buried in a pit.
Before, no shepherd had ever dared to truly enter the village.
"From the first glance I had at him, I knew he wasn't a shepherd—no shepherd is that feeble, and besides..." The elder paused briefly, his mouth splitting into a gap-toothed grin.
"He's been protecting that old sheep; I knew he wasn't the same as a shepherd, probably a shepherd's helper kept beside to do tasks. That old sheep is most likely a family member of his, and his claim that he was an abducted chef is probably true."
"Speaking of which, why are there so many older ones this time? I heard there was some big trouble outside—how big was it?" the bowl-holder scratched his head.
"Take care of your own business, and mind not the affairs of others." The elder tapped the man lightly with his cane, his smile fading away: "Shepherds die, and more troubles arise; you need not concern yourself with these. You just need to take care of the mine—work cannot stop, and the quota must not fall short. The next person coming to collect the goods should be arriving soon."
"Alright."
...
Yu Ziqing was both sleepy and exhausted. The air in the cavern was stale, yet the temperature wasn't low; before long, he fell into a drowsy, half-awake stupor.
After a little over two hours, footsteps approached from outside the door. Yu Ziqing suddenly woke with a start, reaching for the old sheep with one hand and gripping the short sword at his waist with the other.
"Young brother, your hot water is ready. Do you want it?"
"Yes, thank you." Yu Ziqing stepped out of the cavern, took the hot water from the wooden bowl, and thanked the stumpy man: "Thank you, elder brother, I'm called Yu Ziqing. And how may I address you?"
"Everyone calls me Er Han. My Grandpa is the village chief here. You rest for a day. Afterward, you'll start work. We don't support idlers here, so what can you do?"
Yu Ziqing felt a bit odd, as if he had already answered this question before.
"I used to be a chef."
"A chef, huh? That would work. Judging by your arms and legs, you probably can't work in the mines. The day after tomorrow, you should start working with those older women," Er Han laughed heartily and then turned and left.
Yu Ziqing took the hot water and smelled it before pulling out a hard, rock-like dry biscuit from his sack. He slowly soaked it from the edges, took small bites when it softened a bit, and then continued to soak it.
Feeling somewhat less hungry and not noticing anything amiss, he continued to soak some more for the old sheep to eat.
"Old master, have some food before you sleep again."
After nibbling a bit, the old sheep pointed at its throat with its forehoof and traced a few characters on the ground.
"Make one cut, two inches above the skin, half an inch beneath the skin. Not one bit off."
After speaking, afraid Yu Ziqing wouldn't understand clearly, it gestured with its hoof under its throat for quite a while to show the position.
Yu Ziqing pondered for a moment.
"Old master, are you saying you want to break the Evil Skill? Can't we do it bit by bit rather than all at once? Can it be done like that?"
The old sheep nodded and then fumbled in the sack for the small knife they used for cutting meat, biting it and handing it over to Yu Ziqing.
"Will this work?"
The old sheep didn't waste words. It lay straight on the ground, looking upward, one hoof pointing at the spot that needed to be cut.
"Is it so urgent? Wouldn't it be better to recuperate a few days more before doing this?"
The old sheep kicked Yu Ziqing, kept looking up, and waited to have its throat cut.
Turning the small knife in his hand, Yu Ziqing gauged the depth and position. With his knife skills, it should be very close to being accurate.
As the blade fell, a two-inch-long cut suddenly appeared on the old sheep's throat, half an inch into the skin, the dimensions just right.
The old sheep grunted softly, bravely remaining still as blood gushed out. However, after only two to three breaths, a dark luster surged over the wound, which then closed up, leaving only a fine trace. The old sheep rose from the ground, and with that, a hoarse and aged voice sounded.
"Enduring flaying, I may indeed not be able to withstand it now, yet I can endure severing the horizontal bone."
"Old master, you never mentioned this method to me before."
"Why would I tell you? With those shepherds around, I would undoubtedly die if I spoke up. Not even those shepherds know of this method. I wasn't even planning to speak, but now the skin has been sliced, and next time if we were to use flaying to break the Evil Skill, it must penetrate a layer of flesh. However, I can't keep silent any longer."
"Old master..."
"Just call me Old Yang, it's fine." Old Yang approached the entrance of the cavern and peered outside.
"Just remember two things.
You've been consistently asking me for Dharma Methods for cultivation, right? If you find any Dharma Methods here, apart from the Nourishing Body Technique, don't cultivate them. First, eat well to nourish your body, or it's looking for death.
I fear you wouldn't be able to resist, and you don't know the proper weigh, ruining your potential and seeking your own demise.
Secondly, don't meddle in the affairs of this place. When you're well rested, take ample supplies and leave immediately. Do not wait for spring; by then it will be too late."
After giving this advice, Old Yang collapsed back into the hay, his eyes weighted with heavy fatigue, and slowly closed them.
"Old Yang? Old Yang?" Yu Ziqing exclaimed, calling out twice in shock.
"Stop yelling, you'd react the same if you were slashed with a blade," Old Yang lifted his eyelids a notch, grumbling irritably, and turned over to sleep deeply.
"..."
Yu Ziqing didn't continue to disturb Old Yang, realizing that taking that slash was probably not as simple as it seemed on the surface.
Yang had taught him the official language, characters, and many other miscellaneous pieces of knowledge. He was a fast learner, and Yang was happy to teach, but he never imparted to Yu Ziqing any Dharma Methods of Cultivation.
Yang said he did not know any, otherwise he would have achieved Qi Refinement himself. He was just an ordinary teacher.
Yu Ziqing took it as truth and never inquired about it again.
With a warm burrow and seeing the way Yang was, Yu Ziqing also knew there was no immediate danger. At last, he could sleep soundly, sleeping for seven or eight two-hour periods, until hunger pains woke him.
Stepping out of the burrow, noisy conversations could be heard in the distance. Yu Ziqing grabbed a handful of slowly gathered dry cake crumbs, drank a few sips of water, and then slowly savored the crumbs while heading towards the crowd.
At the edge of the crowd, he stretched his neck to peek inside: there was a gaunt man tied up and trussed, his skin stretched over bones, his expression vacant, with drool still on his lips.
A path opened up in the crowd behind, and Er Han helped the village chief walk over.
"Village chief, this man went to the back mountain to steal white meat," said someone.
The village chief sighed, nodded to Er Han, and Er Han immediately turned and left. The village chief looked around the circle and raised his Qi.
"If you don't want to work, you won't get to eat. If you don't get food and then go dig for white meat, this is our community's greatest taboo. There's no helping it now; he can only have his last meal, so at least he won't die from starvation."
The surrounding people were silent. Yu Ziqing continued to slowly sip on the dry cake residue, allowing his saliva to gradually soften the crumbs. He remembered Yang's words, despite taking a stab, and knew to just watch the commotion and learn more about the people and affairs here.
Soon, Er Han came over carrying a steaming wooden tray with a bowl of ice water containing ice cubes and another stone bowl covered with a stone lid.
The village chief lifted the lid, revealing something yellow tinged with orange. At first glance, it looked like old tofu or a Yellow Rice Cake. The village chief picked up a pair of iron chopsticks, and as he picked and rolled, steam rose with the fragrance of grains and the aroma of fats.
The village chief picked up a piece as big as half a fist, rolled it gently in the ice water, and the scalding steam dissipated. He took the morsel to the mouth of the man on the ground.
The man, lost in thought, smelled the fragrance and, without processing the thought, gobbled up the big piece of food.
A gulp was heard, and without chewing, the food slid down his throat and into his stomach.
However, within a few breaths, the man began to struggle wildly, making unhuman choking sounds, and steam poured out of his mouth. After flailing for a short while, the man stopped moving entirely.
Yu Ziqing silently sipped on the crumbs, quietly observing like everyone else.
The man was scalded to death by the unknown food.
Standing so far away, one could feel the heat. That thing was definitely hotter than boiling oil; if you said it was fresh lava, Yu Ziqing would think it likely.
The man's skin around his stomach changed color noticeably compared to the surrounding flesh. His internal organs were probably cooked...
And such a big piece was swallowed instantly; probably not just because the man was starved to madness. He didn't even chew.
When the village chief was done, he turned and left.
Some silently dealt with the body, while others just went about their business. Everything was orderly.
Seeing Yu Ziqing had not left, Er Han walked over with the tray.
"Brother Yu, let's go, I'll show you around," he said.
"Sure, good."
After a few steps, Er Han, holding the tray in one hand and the bowl of water in the other, casually tossed the water aside.
The ice water hit the ground, quickly forming a thin layer of ice. Sinister Cold Qi rose up, growing icy tendrils along the ground, spreading outwards. In an instant, a layer of frost covered everything within seven or eight feet.
Er Han held the tray and secretly cracked open a slit on the bowl lid. In an instant, it was as if a glowing coal had burst into being, with heat accompanied by fragrance erupting outward.
Er Han couldn't help but swallow his saliva.
"We can't even eat this Yellow Rice Cake; that wretch got it cheap."
Yu Ziqing stood by, feeling his cheeks burn, as if scorched just by looking at it briefly.
Can this even be eaten?
He glanced sidelong at Er Han, who seemed completely unaffected by the heat, his face expressing only one thing.
Want to eat.
Remembering the village chief, who could barely stand, needed a cane, and support from others, he stood even closer, even handling it himself, seemingly unaffected by the heat.
And those before who skinned and neutralized the Evil Skill with seemingly effortless ease.
Yu Ziqing couldn't help but question in his mind.
Are these people really ordinary?
Since when did ordinary people become so extraordinary? Were the ordinary people he saw in the past few months all fake?
Thinking back again, about the Cece Despair Abyss he passed before entering this place, and the merciless way this community treated those who ate white meat.
After linking the whole chain of information and imagining some missing details,
Yu Ziqing suddenly made a bold guess.
The only road in and out; on the left, the Despair Abyss, on the right, a forest that brings certain death upon entering.
The Cannibals definitely cannot leave.
That Cece Despair Abyss, its presence is too coincidental, isn't it?