Three Sins Against Heaven

"Dylan, your father lost again at the gambling den. They've detained him and won't let him leave. He asked me to tell you to gather some money to bail him out. If you can't get the money, they'll take his arm."

"Uncle, Aunt, please, I'm begging you. I promise this is the last time. I'll make sure he never gambles again. I'll pay back the money we owe you. Please help me, I'm begging you!"

***

"Father, let's go home. I've gathered the ransom. Please, don't gamble anymore."

"Father, why are you gambling again? Have you forgotten how you knelt before Uncle and Aunt and promised? You've lost everything. Please, stop gambling!"

Inside the gambling den, Dylan clung tightly to the man's sleeve, pleading desperately.

"Get lost!" The man shoved Dylan away, his eyes bloodshot, clearly desperate from his losses. He stared intently at the smiling dealer across from him. "One more round!"

"But you've lost everything. What will you bet with?" the dealer asked with a smile.

The man turned to look at Dylan, gritted his teeth, and pulled Dylan over, pressing his head onto the gambling table.

"I still have my son. I'll bet my son. If I lose, he's yours!"

Dylan struggled desperately, but was met with a slap from the man, his head pressed firmly onto the table. All he could see was the smiling dealer, the one who had valued him at two taels of silver and quickly won back those two taels.

Two taels of silver. For just two taels of silver, his own father had sold him.

Dylan looked at the man who had gambled him away, unable to hold back a heart-wrenching scream.

"You worthless gambler, why don't you just die? I'll kill you!"

***

"Dylan, Dylan, wake up!"

Dylan groggily opened his eyes to see Little Tiger shaking him vigorously. He jolted awake, his back drenched in cold sweat.

It was just a dream.

He hadn't dreamed of his mother, but of that worthless gambler.

"Dylan, you were shouting and yelling in your sleep. What's wrong?" Little Tiger asked.

"Nothing, just a bad dream," Dylan replied, pretending nothing was wrong. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, suppressing his emotions. "What time is it?"

Little Tiger pointed to the clepsydra in the corner. "It's three quarters into the Mao Hour. That fierce guy from yesterday said to be ready at four quarters. Should we go now?"

Dylan sat up instantly, noticing the empty bed. He quickly asked, "Where are Thomas and the others?"

He had barely finished asking when he laughed at himself. He didn't even bother to wash up, grabbing Little Tiger and running out of the room.

Thomas often bullied them; why would he kindly wake them up?

But it was his own fault. If he hadn't been overthinking and unable to sleep last night, Little Tiger wouldn't have had to wake him up.

Sometimes he really envied Little Tiger. He could eat and sleep whenever he wanted, without overthinking, and thus had fewer worries.

When they arrived at the open space in front of the courtyard, most of the boys were already standing in neat rows.

Dylan and Little Tiger quickly stood at the back, looking at Brian Qin's back. Their chests heaved, but they didn't dare to breathe loudly.

As soon as it was four quarters into the Mao Hour, Brian turned around, his face as cold as yesterday. He brushed his hand over the brocade pouch at his waist, and dark green round pills appeared out of thin air, flying to the boys in front of him.

"Swallow them."

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The boys, not knowing what to expect, held the dark green pills tightly, not daring to swallow them.

At that moment, a few latecomers tried to sneak into the line. Brian raised his hand and flicked his fingers, sending an invisible force that knocked the boys down. He then pulled a leather whip from his brocade pouch and lashed it through the air.

With just one lash, the boys' skin split open, and they rolled on the ground in pain.

Brian didn't even glance at the screaming boys. He coldly looked at the others, lightly moving the whip.

"Swallow."

The boys shivered and quickly swallowed the pills.

A warm current rose within them, but before they could feel it, Brian raised his palm. Yellow light emanated from his fingers, outlining a diagram of human meridians. A cluster of white light followed the meridians, tracing a complex path.

"Circulate the spiritual energy within you according to this route," Brian instructed, then sat cross-legged, ignoring the bewildered boys.

The boys finally understood that the warm current inside them was called spiritual energy. After a moment of hesitation, they began to try.

Dylan didn't act rashly. He carefully studied the cultivation diagram.

***

Soon, a reckless boy made a mistake, blood streaming from his orifices. He convulsed on the ground for a moment before dying.

The surrounding boys stepped back, trembling. They had seen death before, but never so gruesome.

No matter how brave they were, they were just teenagers. Facing death so closely, fear was inevitable.

Brian took a yellow talisman paper from his brocade pouch and placed it on the boy's forehead, then gave the others a sinister smile.

"One mistake in cultivation means death. I hope you can live a little longer."

The boys stood frozen, staring at the corpse with the yellow paper on its forehead, unsure what to do. It wasn't until Brian coughed lightly that they turned their attention back to the cultivation diagram, trying to memorize it.

Dylan repeatedly studied the diagram. This was a matter of life and death, and he had to be extremely cautious. After comparing it dozens of times to ensure he hadn't made a mistake, he finally sat cross-legged and began to guide the spiritual energy within him along the route.

His limbs gradually warmed, and a mix of warmth and coolness settled in his abdomen, bringing an indescribable comfort.

***

When the spiritual energy within him dissipated, Dylan slowly opened his eyes, realizing it was already afternoon. Before cultivating, he had been starving, but now he felt no hunger, likely due to the dark green pill.

Dylan scanned the surroundings, his pupils trembling when he saw more corpses with yellow paper near Brian.

Brian sensed something, slowly opened his eyes, and gave Dylan a blank look.

Dylan quickly lowered his head, not daring to meet his gaze. Despite the scorching sun, he felt as if he were in an ice cave, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Brian only told them what to do, not how to do it. And if they made a mistake, they would die!

Thinking back to over ten days ago, when Dennis Li had brought them here using sword flight, everyone had been amazed and eager.

Dennis had repeatedly assured them that being bought was the luckiest thing in their lives because they could become immortals like him.

Immortals, the ones who could fly and escape in stories. At that time, Dylan had thought being sold wasn't so bad. He could leave that worthless gambler and become an immortal.@@novelbin@@

But now, he no longer had that thought. These immortals seemed not to care about the lives of mere mortals.

His only thought now was to survive!

When everyone finished cultivating, Brian collected the corpses into his brocade pouch, waved his hand, and left behind dozens of baskets of steamed buns.

"Same time tomorrow."

The boys rushed forward, even though they weren't hungry after taking the dark green pill, they still wanted to grab food.

In a place where death could come at any moment, having more food in their stomachs brought some comfort.

Dylan and Little Tiger squeezed into the crowd, enduring the pushing and shoving, and managed to grab four steamed buns. They quickly retreated, each taking two.

Little Tiger took a big bite of his bun and asked, "Dylan, are those people lying down dead?"

Dylan nodded.

Little Tiger muttered, "But why take them away? My mother said the dead should be buried in the ground."

Dylan didn't know how to answer, so he sighed heavily.

Once someone is dead, does it matter where they rest?

Returning to one's roots is just a luxury. Who knows what Brian will do with those bodies?

He didn't want to become a corpse. He wanted to go home.

Proofreader & Editor: Peter Pan