Chapter 3 Outer Disciples
Like everyone else, Third Sister Yi had never seen the world outside the valley since her birth. Aside from the Yanzhen Pavilion, where the outer sect masters were stationed, everyone in the valley was the same. All they had to worry about was life and death, waiting for the Zang Yao Sect, who protected the valley, to arrive every five years to reap the rewards.
Where did everyone go after the harvest? Yi Sanmei had a vague idea. Perhaps they disappeared into a corner, just like the sisters and brothers who were injured or disabled at home.
But some people can survive, just like the outer sect master, and become Zang Yao's outer sect disciples.
Yi Sanmei wanted to live. Although she didn't know why she wanted to live, there was always one thought telling her: live.
Twenty children, no older than ten, lined the spirit boat, observing their surroundings with either cautious or unhurried demeanor. Two outer disciples chatted and laughed, oblivious to the children's manipulations. Third Sister Yi was still lost in thought when the boat suddenly took flight, a tremendous force lifting it into the air. She held her breath in shock. Only when the spirit boat stabilized did she slowly exhale.
The children were in an uproar. Some looked at the outer disciples with admiration and whispered, "I really want to be like them."
The image of the outer sect disciples taking out paper boats and transforming them into giant spirit boats flashed through Yi Sanmei's mind, and she secretly thought to herself, "I want to learn this kind of magic too."
The children in the Third Valley were all docile and obedient, and Third Sister Yi was always docile on the surface, but she was also a rebellious spirit. She had once violated taboos and approached the Yanzhen Pavilion to eavesdrop on the outer sect adults studying classics, and even witnessed them practicing magic. She was nearly caught once, but luckily escaped unharmed. After a while, she dared to go again.
"Right now, learning the written language is more important than magic," Yi Sanmei encouraged herself. She came to her senses and realized her companions, who had been neatly arranged around her, had scattered to different corners of the boat, leaving her standing there stupidly in the middle. Glancing around, she saw a pile of rags and ashes in an empty corner. She didn't mind and quickly ran over to sit down.
The outer sect elders were chatting, and one of them glanced at them and said to his companion, "Want to make a bet this time?"
He spoke without concealing his voice, and the few children who had gathered to chat were silenced by the atmosphere. Everyone listened silently to the words of these two important people who could directly decide their life and death.
"Xin Yong, the harvest this time is already much less, and you still dare to bet? Aren't you afraid that Lord Ling will eat you?" Another person laughed, and there was no fear in his attitude, but he was full of eagerness to try.
The man called Xin Yong also said nonchalantly, "It takes at least half a month to transport the goods from the first to the ninth valley to the sect, so it's normal for them to be damaged. Moreover, the sect has been in urgent need of supplies in the past few months. Those who don't have excellent spiritual roots are not even recorded and are divided up on the spot. Those who take the materials don't report it. If you don't say it and I don't say it, how would Lord Ling know? Qiu Xinglun, are you scared?"
Third Sister Yi didn't quite understand what was being said. But she did understand one thing: this conversation was filled with malice that made her hair stand on end.
While no one else was paying attention, Yi Sanmei leaned into the corner and quietly stuffed the dagger, which was buried in a pile of dust and cloth with a corner exposed, into her tattered clothes.
Qiu Xinglun was about to make a bet. He quickly feigned anger and said, "Nonsense! I, Qiu Xinglun, have never shied away from making bets! You're saying I didn't accept defeat the last few times? So, let's make a bet. I'm afraid of you."
Xin Yong was overjoyed. Qiu Xinglun was a compulsive gambler. Every time he ran a shipment, he'd bet against him, losing dozens or hundreds of spirit stones. Sometimes, in his mad rush, he'd even bet spiritual herbs. Unfortunately, his luck was incredibly bad. Xin Yong always specifically requested to go with him on a shipment, just to get a better deal.
"Okay! It's your turn to bet this time. What do you want to bet?"
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