Days stretched into an endless gray thread, pulled taut by heavy labor and constant dread. Gu Liang moved like an ox yoked to a plow, numbly circling through the endless cycle of chopping wood, hauling water, and cleaning entrails and blood.Old calluses on his palms wore away, forming fresh scabs only to crack open again with the next abrasion. The brand beneath his collarbone had healed, leaving a grotesque protrusion—like an ugly rivet hammered into his identity.
A Lie never relinquished his intentions toward Gu Liang. Each night when Gu Liang was chained to the wooden stake outside the tent, A Lie would sometimes approach him, reeking of the blood from his hunts, his golden pupils glowing fiercely in the darkness. He would attempt to touch him, even force a kiss.Gu Liang's resistance grew fiercer each time. His Swiss Army knife became his final barrier, and on several occasions, he nearly succeeded in truly wounding A Lie.
A Lie's patience stretched like a taut bowstring. Gu Liang could feel it clearly: the gaze fixed upon him was shedding its scrutiny and amusement, replaced by anger festering from repeated rejection and a cold glint determined to crush his resistance with brutality.Gu Liang knew that next time, the Swiss Army knife might cut through more than just A Lie's skin—it would tear apart this fragile standoff entirely.
Food remained the greatest problem. Slaves always received the smallest and poorest portions—usually unrecognizable mush or jerky so tough it could shatter teeth. Chronic malnutrition caused Gu Liang to waste away rapidly, his cheeks hollowed, dark circles deepening beneath his eyes, his movements growing sluggish and weak.
That afternoon, he was assigned to dig deep-buried tubers alongside several elderly and frail slaves. These tubers served as one of the tribe's primary winter food sources, though their taste was bitter, coarse, and nearly inedible. Starvation had left Gu Liang dizzy and weak, barely able to swing the heavy stone pickaxe.The overseer, a leopard beastman, noticed his slowing pace. Cursing under his breath, he strode over, raising his leather whip—
But at that moment, a figure stepped in front of Gu Liang.
It was Emma.
She had appeared here unnoticed, standing with her back to the overseer. She bent down as if casually picking up a tuber Gu Liang had unearthed, weighed it in her hand, and said something to the overseer. Her tone was flat, and she didn't even glance at Gu Liang. Yet the overseer, who had been seething with rage moments before, suddenly reined in his anger. Muttering under his breath, he turned and went to urge the others on.
Gu Liang stared blankly at Emma's retreating figure. She wore the same sleek leather armor today, her posture as straight as ever.
Emma turned, her gaze sweeping over Gu Liang's pale, haggard face and his slightly trembling hands. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. She held out the mud-covered tuber before him, then casually nudged aside a clump of inconspicuous weeds with tiny white flowers growing among them.
Gu Liang's gaze instinctively followed her foot. The unremarkable weed was parted, revealing a network of well-developed, grayish-white tuberous roots beneath.
Emma's toes paused briefly on one small root before pressing down with slight force.
With a soft pop, the root crushed, releasing a clear, slightly pungent white liquid that left a distinct wet mark on the soil. A unique, faintly irritating scent wafted through the air.
After this action, Emma's gaze darted back and forth between the bitter tuber in Gu Liang's hand and the white liquid stain on the ground. For half a second, her eyes met Gu Liang's with a fleeting, extraordinary clarity. That look held no emotion, yet it felt like a precise beam of light connecting two unrelated things.
Then she said nothing and turned away. As if she had merely stopped by to check on the digging progress, accidentally trampling a weed in the process.
Gu Liang stared at the tuber in his hand, then at the clump of weeds Emma had crushed, and at the pool of white sap slowly seeping into the soil.That absurd suspicion surged within him once more, more intensely than ever before. Seizing a moment when the overseer wasn't looking, he swiftly pulled several of those white-flowered weeds, including the crushed clump, and hid them in the tattered folds of his shirt.
That night, back at the wooden stake where he was chained, Gu Liang examined the weeds closely by moonlight. He couldn't identify the plant, but Emma's precise crushing motion and that final, meaningful glance couldn't have been accidental. Hesitating, he tore off a small piece of the crushed root and put it in his mouth.
An indescribable, intensely sharp bitterness exploded on his tongue, ten times stronger than the scent he'd smelled during the day! He nearly spat it out immediately, but then a faint yet distinct coolness, reminiscent of mint, rose from the back of his tongue, temporarily suppressing the nauseating bitterness.
Gu Liang's heart skipped a beat. Neutralization? Masking? Or... transformation?
The next day while digging up tubers, he secretly stashed a small piece. That evening, avoiding others' eyes, he found two relatively flat stones and began his "verification."
First, he crushed the bitter tuber and ground some white flower roots, mixing and kneading them together. The result was disappointing—the mixture smelled even more peculiar and pungent. Taking a small taste, the bitterness and spiciness combined, nearly making him gag.
Failure.
Gu Liang stared at the small mass of failed creation, undeterred. He scrutinized the mess, mentally replaying Emma's actions: crushing, juice. The active ingredient might dissolve in the juice. Mixing solids directly might actually cause the bitterness to precipitate?
For his second attempt, he took another piece of tuber and more white flower root stems. This time, he first carefully pounded the root stems, then squeezed the wrapped leaves forcefully, barely extracting a few drops of thin, milky-white juice. He dripped these precious drops onto the crushed tuber, then mixed and kneaded it carefully.
With trepidation, he placed the juice-coated lump into his mouth. The intense bitterness remained, but that nauseating "underlying taste"—a mix of earth and mold—seemed diminished. In its place was a tolerable, pure "bitterness," and he could even detect a faint, negligible sweetness, akin to starch, slowly seeping from the juice-soaked parts.
Success! Though only a minuscule improvement, it was undeniably an improvement!
[Target Individual Gu Liang successfully mastered basic survival skill (food preparation). Problem-solving ability enhanced. Despair value slightly decreased. Corruption value -1%. Current corruption value: 6%.]
The moment the notification ping echoed in her mind, Emma's motion of wiping the bone spear paused imperceptibly. A nearly invisible curve touched the corner of her mouth. "Good experimental spirit. A day faster than expected."
From then on, Gu Liang began secretly using the juice from these white flowers to process inedible tubers. While he still couldn't eat his fill, at least he no longer choked on the taste. This minuscule improvement felt like grasping a slender thread in the darkness.
Following that thread, he found himself increasingly drawn to the figure who had cast it—Emma. He noticed her unique status; the orcs in the tribe treated her with a complex mix of respect for her strength (she was clearly an exceptional warrior) and a certain aloofness born of her unconventional nature. She often hunted or patrolled alone, spoke little, and her gaze remained perpetually cool and distant.From fragments of conversation among the other beastmen, he confirmed she was the chieftain's daughter.
But Gu Liang noticed that whenever A Lie treated him with excessive brutality, or other orcs tried to humiliate him too harshly, Emma would always appear at the "just right" moment. Sometimes she was merely passing by, other times she was seeking the overseer to inquire about hunting matters. Her presence always managed to subtly interrupt the impending escalation of worse things.
She never looked at him directly, nor did she ever offer direct help like she had by the river. Yet Gu Liang sensed it wasn't indifference, but a more cautious, subtle... protection. This realization took root like a tiny seed, quietly planted in his frozen heart.He still feared A Lie, still yearned for home, still felt boundless loneliness. Yet that absolute despair seemed to crack open a tiny fissure because of this indescribable, subtle connection.
He began secretly learning the orcish language.Through observation and imitation, he gradually understood simple words: "water," "food," "work," "come," "chief" (referring to the old chief, Blackmane), "master" (sometimes used for A Lie), "dangerous"... He even faintly heard other beastmen use a term alongside Emma's name that seemed to signify "chieftain's daughter."
One evening, the tribe erupted in boisterous cheers. The large hunting party had returned with a bountiful haul—several enormous beasts whose names Gu Liang couldn't identify. The entire tribe basked in joy, bonfires blazing brighter as they prepared a small celebration.
Even the slaves were granted scraps—bones with faint traces of meat and offal. Gu Liang received a small, gnawed bone fragment. He silently huddled in a corner, using a stone to crack open the bone and suck out the meager marrow inside.The air thickened with the scent of roasting meat as the beastmen danced, roared, and shared the spoils around the bonfire.
The old chieftain, Mo Zong, was surrounded in the center, feasting on the spoils. A Lie and his men also occupied a large section, laughing loudly as they enjoyed their share. A Lie's gaze occasionally swept over Gu Liang in the corner, carrying an unhidden sense of possession and drunken recklessness.
Gu Liang lowered his head, trying to minimize his presence.
Then he saw Emma carrying a large piece of roasted meat. She sat down not far from him, her back to the noisy crowd, methodically cutting the meat with a bone knife. She ate quietly, a stark contrast to the revelry around her.
A sizable piece of perfectly grilled meat suddenly "accidentally" fell from her direction, landing not far from Gu Liang. It rolled a few times, gathering dust.
Emma seemed to make a disapproving sound, glancing at the piece. She didn't pick it up, instead continuing to carve the meat in her hands, as if the fallen piece was no longer worth her attention.
Gu Liang's heart leapt. He stared at the meat, then darted a glance at Emma's back. She still hadn't turned around.
No one in the vicinity noticed this corner. The reveling beasts were immersed in their feast and joy.
Gu Liang's hand trembled slightly. Hunger gripped his stomach like a giant fist. After a few seconds of hesitation, he lunged forward, snatching the dusty piece of meat and stashing it in his chest. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.
The meat was still warm, its rich, fatty aroma filling his nostrils and searing every starved cell in his body.
He dared not eat it immediately, merely clutching the meat tightly to his chest, feeling that precious, almost searing warmth seep through his tattered clothes onto his cold skin.
In that moment, he knew clearly this was no accident. It was a form of communication more direct than words, an unspoken gift under the savage rules of the wilderness.
Emma, the chieftain's daughter—this powerful, cold female beast-man—was releasing an almost imperceptible kindness toward him in an extremely subtle way.
Why?
Gu Liang couldn't comprehend it. Yet this scorching piece of meat and the earlier drops of crisp herbal juice were like two tiny sparks, kindling fleeting patches of warmth deep within his frozen heart—warmth so faint it nearly brought tears to his eyes. Though faint, it was undeniably real.
[Target Gu Liang receives basic energy replenishment. Survival pressure temporarily alleviated. Corruption Value -2%, Current Corruption Value 4%.] The system alert caused Emma's knife to pause momentarily as she cut the meat.
She lifted her head to gaze at the flickering campfire in the distance, her eyes deep and unfathomable.
The "survival" objective was tentatively achieved. But mere existence wouldn't withstand the storm that was bound to come. He needed leverage, needed "value"... She had to show him a ladder, even if it was just a faint shadow. Emma pondered silently, the bone knife in her hand reflecting a cold, resolute gleam in the firelight.
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.