Xuan stood at the edge of the village square, his heart pounding as he watched the traders arrive. He had waited for them for a while now. But there was something off. These weren't the jovial merchants he had imagined, bringing foreign wares and stories of distant lands. Instead, a group of silent, grim-faced men and teenagers clad in dark robes descended from their carts, their eyes scanning the gathered villagers.
Each of the traders bore a peculiar mark on their clothing—a spider, embroidered in white silk. Its design was minimalistic, with long, spindly legs stretching out in sharp, clean lines, and a simple, almost abstract body at the center.
Xuan's eyes lingered on the symbol, something about it tugging at his mind. It looked familiar—too familiar. He glanced down at his own hand, where his spider tattoo rested, far more intricate than the simple emblem on their robes. The legs on his tattoo were jagged, segmented like blades, each joint sharp and precise, while the body was armored, almost menacing. But the resemblance was undeniable.
It's similar to mine, Xuan thought, unease creeping over him.
The villagers had gathered to the traders, but there was no joy in their expressions—only a mix of fear and resignation. Xuan noticed how some villagers averted their eyes, while others looked towards Jin urgingly. Strangely, there were no children among the gathered crowd—only adults, that stood in tense silence, their faces drawn and weary.
Xuan felt a knot form in his stomach. Why were there no children? Wasn't this supposed to be an exciting event for the village? He was the only one, a child among a sea of grim-faced adults.
As if responding to the weight of the villagers' stares, Jin finally stepped forward with a smile on his face. But Xuan could see the slight tension in his posture—a subtle mix of nervousness and determination. He approached a man who seemed to be the leader of the traders—a tall, stern-looking figure with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes. The man's gaze flickered with irritation as Jin stepped forward.
"What is this?" the leader asked, his voice low and sharp. "Why is an old man presenting himself instead of your village's chosen one?"
The briefest flicker of nervousness crossed Jin's face before he quickly regained his composure. Bowing slightly, he replied, "I apologize for the confusion. Our village has indeed selected its offering for this year's recruitment." He gestured toward Xuan, who stood frozen at the edge of the square, still confused by the spider symbol. "Xuan is this year's candidate." Jin shot him a pointed look, urging him to smile as they'd practiced.
The leader's eyes followed Jin's gesture and landed on Xuan. A frown immediately darkened his face. His cold gaze swept over Xuan, taking in his missing arm, his overall state, and the faint signs of healing on his body. His lip curled in disdain. "Is this some kind of joke?" he hissed, voice laced with barely-contained anger. "You dare to present us with a cripple!?"
Xuan flinched at the words, feeling the sting of the label. The villagers shifted uncomfortably, murmuring among themselves, but no one spoke up.
Jin, sensing the growing tension, quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. "No, no! You misunderstand," he said hurriedly, his voice carrying a note of desperation. "Xuan may be missing an arm, but he's strong, healthy, and determined. He has an incredible willpower. Just look at him smiling, despite the circumstances."
The leader's frown deepened, his patience clearly wearing thin. "You think we'll waste resources on someone who's already broken? We need warriors, not burdens."
Jin's smile strained as the leader's words hung in the air, thick with threat. He glanced at the gathered villagers, who watched silently, and then back at the leader. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he realized that his argument was falling apart.
But Jin was prepared for this. His hand disappeared into the folds of his robe, and with a swift motion, he pulled out a small plant that almost looked like weed.
"This," Jin said quietly, stepping closer to the leader and offering the plant, "is for your troubles. It, it's to make up for the boy's shortcomings."
Interest sparked in the leader's eyes as he noticed the plant. Xuan, from his position, recognized it immediately—that's the same plant from Jin's garden. The one with qi.
The leader reached out, took the plant carefully from Jin's hand, and inspected it closely. After a moment, the corner of his mouth curled into a satisfied smirk. "Hmph," he muttered, his tone softening just slightly. "This will suffice, barely."
He gave Jin one last, cold look. "But don't think this will set a precedent. Next time, we expect more than a cripple and a bribe."
Bowing low, Jin's voice dripped with gratitude. "Of course, of course. Thank you for your understanding."
The leader turned his back on Jin and barked an order to the other traders. "Bring the boy."
A trader gestured for Xuan to step forward, his heart pounded as he looked back at Jin, searching for some kind of reassurance. But the old man only stood there, his smile fixed, his eyes cold yet carrying an unusual look of relief.
Xuan's stomach churned. Something was terribly wrong.
Confused and uneasy, Xuan stepped forward, walking past the villagers and finally arriving next to Jin's side. He could feel the weight of every gaze on him, though none brought comfort—only the same pitied looks he'd grown accustomed to.
Jin clapped him on the shoulder, his grip a bit too firm, and leaned down. "Good luck, Xuan," he said, his smile widening unnaturally, almost stretching too far across his face. "The traders will take good care of you."
Something was very, very wrong. Xuan's chest tightened. Every instinct screamed at him to back away, to say something, but before he could find his voice, two of the traders stepped forward, guiding him roughly toward the wagon.
Then the doors creaked open, and Xuan was ushered inside.
---
As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the wagon, Xuan noticed them—other children, huddled in small groups, their faces pale and drawn with fear. None of them were from his village and they looked as uneasy as he felt, some even trembling in silence.
Some of them stared at him as he took a hesitant step inside, eyes wide with slight curiosity and something darker—resignation. The others just looked down, not even bothered by the new addition.
"Hey... another one," a voice muttered from the back. Xuan turned to see a boy, slightly pudgy and with a round face, shifting closer to him. He gave a small, almost forced smile as he looked at where Xuan's right arm would have been. "Looks like they're just sending you to die though. What village are you from?"
„I-"
But before Xuan could fully answer, the wagon lurched into motion. The doors slammed shut behind him, and the village square began to fade from view as they set off.
Xuan stumbled slightly as the wagon jerked forward, his balance off without his right arm to steady him. Still he caught himself and sank into the closest empty seat, his heart racing. The pudgy boy kept watching him, his gaze filled with a mix of pity and curiosity. He scooted closer, his round face lacking the resignation the other kids seemed to have.
"I asked what village you're from," the boy repeated.
"Mulin Village," Xuan replied hesitantly. A small, calm smile flickered across his lips, trying to convince himself that everything was fine. It was the habit he had gained in the village. "What do you mean they're sending me to die?" He asked, confusedly.
But the pudgy boy didn't directly respond. Instead he raised an eyebrow. "Mulin? That's odd... I thought the sacrifice was supposed to be Jin's daughter this time."
Xuan's smile faltered. He blinked, trying to process what he had just heard. "Jin's daughter?" Xuan repeated, his voice barely a whisper before he tried to regain his smile.
"Yeah." The boy leaned back, crossing his arms with a knowing look. „Word spreads fast in these parts. Jin's daughter was the only kid of the right age. I'm pretty sure Mulin Village had decided on her for this year's sacrifice." He looked at Xuan strangely. "But here you are, missing an arm and all."
It didn't make sense. Xuan's mind reeled. Jin hadn't told him anything about this.
"In the first place, what do you mean by sacrifice?" Xuan asked. That word had been bothering him for a while now. „Jin said that the traders would take me to the city. What's going on here?"
A heavy silence hung between them before, finally, the boy sighed, as if realizing Xuan really didn't know what was going on. "You really don't know, do you?" He sighed again. "Sacrifice. Offering. Call it what you want. These aren't traders—they're from a sect. The Venomthread Sect. They come around every so often, taking kids from the surrounding villages to 'recruit' them. The village selects an offering—or how they like to call it—a chosen one, to stay on their good side, and the unlucky kid then takes part in an exam. The chosen kids usually never return though or end up as a slave." The boy looked into Xuan's eyes deeply. "Or die."
Xuan felt his stomach drop, his smile now completely gone. "But Jin said... he said they were taking me to the city. That I'd find a map and—"
The boy cut him off with a bitter laugh. "City? You're not going to any city. And you're definitely not getting a map. They're expensive. You're heading straight to the Venomthread Sect's territory."
Desperation flooded his mind as Xuan's thoughts raced, trying to grasp the reality of the situation. Had he been tricked? Was Jin really just using him? Or was this boy spinning a tale?
"But… he saved me," Xuan muttered, more to himself than the boy. "Why would he go through all that trouble just to send me off like this?"
A girl sitting nearby, who had been silently listening, leaned forward. Her voice was soft but filled with a resigned bitterness. "Because it wasn't supposed to be you. Everyone knows it was supposed to be Mei-Ling. Jin's daughter. She was the only kid of the right age in Mulin Village."
The pudgy boy nodded in agreement, his expression more serious now. "Yeah, that's what I heard too. You said Jin saved you? Eh, he probably saw you were of the correct age and picked you up as a replacement for his daughter."
Xuan clenched his remaining fist tightly, his nails biting into his palm. Jin had seemed so sincere, so comforting. But it had all been a lie, hadn't it? He had saved Xuan, only to throw him to the wolves to save his own daughter. The realization twisted inside him, igniting a mix of anger and disbelief.
"You look like someone just told you your whole life's a lie," the pudgy boy remarked, his round face tilting slightly as he observed Xuan's internal struggle. There wasn't mockery in his voice—just a blunt acknowledgment of the reality they faced.
Xuan's jaw tightened, a bitter realization settling in. "Jin lied to me," he muttered, his voice low. The words tasted bitter on his tongue.
"It happens." The boy shrugged sympathetically. „The sect's powerful. Villages like Mulin don't have much choice, really. Better to sacrifice one kid than let the sect take their pick. Jin made sure it wasn't his daughter this time."
Xuan grimaced, the bitterness settling deeper. Jin had chosen his own daughter, sacrificing him without hesitation. Part of him wanted to hate Jin, to feel nothing but anger—but how could he? Any father would do the same, he told himself. Yet even knowing that, the betrayal stung.
His mind in chaos, Xuan drifted into silence. He slowly got caught up in a maelstrom of disbelief and sorrow as the world outside the wagon seemed to grow distant. The steady grinding of the wheels over the uneven road faded into a dull hum. Occasionally, the wagon would pause, and more children were ushered inside, their nervous faces blending into the haze of his thoughts, but Xuan barely registered them.
Jin's betrayal consumed his mind, twisting deeper with every moment. How could he have been so blind? He had wanted to trust Jin, to see him as a protector, someone who had saved him out of kindness. But it had all been a lie—Jin's actions, his concern, everything. It was a calculated move, a decision to shield his own daughter from danger at Xuan's expense.
He felt a lump form in his throat. Then what about his family? Would he ever see them again? His mother, his father… Mei? A pang of grief washed over him. They were all out there, maybe even searching for him, while he was trapped here, tossed aside like a worthless pawn.
His hand instinctively reached for the necklace Mei had given him, the dark twine cool against his skin. The familiar weight of it seemed to calm him, as if her presence was with him. Slowly his thoughts, clouded with sorrow, began to clear. Then, like a spark in the darkness, something the pudgy boy had said earlier came back to him—the exam.
Xuan's brow furrowed as he recalled the boy's words. His heart picked up speed, a flicker of hope igniting as he turned towards the pudgy boy.
"What about the exam?" Xuan asked, his voice tight with determination. "You said there's an exam. You said the unlucky kid doesn't end up in a good place. But if it's an exam, then it can be passed, right? What happens if I pass?"
Taken aback by the sudden question, the pudgy boy raised an eyebrow, having almost forgotten about Xuan and half-expecting him to wallow in self-pity like the other kids.
"Well, if you pass," he began slowly, "you'll become a disciple of the Venomthread Sect. They'll teach you cultivation arts and help you get stronger. It's one of the most powerful sects around. Passing means access to resources and knowledge beyond anything in the city—you'd be set for life." He glanced pointedly at Xuan's missing arm. "But with that arm gone? Yeah, good luck with that."
Xuan's chest tightened as he listened, the boy's words echoing in his mind. Set for life… a chance to grow stronger. His heart quickened, a spark of hope igniting within him. This could be it. If he could pass the exam, maybe he could find a way to find his family. For a brief moment, he almost felt a flicker of gratitude toward Jin for getting him into this situation.
Ignoring the pudgy boy's comment about his missing arm, he allowed a hint of his trademark hollow smile to return. Steeling himself, Xuan instinctively began assessing his own condition. He wanted to make sure he was in the best possible condition for whatever was to come.
Xuan closed his eyes, focusing on the energy around him. He could sense his Heart Node gently attracting a small flow of qi into his body. Having nowhere to store itself, the energy dissipated quickly but even so, the sharp, jagged pain that had plagued him before was gone. His Heart Node was finally healed. His veins too, once strained and inflamed, felt normal again.
He flexed his remaining arm, testing the muscles. His body had grown accustomed to functioning with one arm, and while he wasn't at full strength, he was in far better shape than he had been weeks ago. His divine ability was ready to be actived at any moment.
He wasn't helpless. Not anymore.
*Krrrr*
The wagon lurched to a stop, snapping him from his thoughts. Around him, the other kids stirred, their faces pale. Xuan steeled himself, his hand brushing against the necklace Mei had given him once more for reassurance. Then the doors creaked open, flooding the wagon with light.
"Out," a gruff voice ordered.