Chapter 1: Five Taels for a Name, Not a Life
The sun had already dipped behind the hills when the man arrived.
His silhouette was framed in the dying light, dark against the pale orange sky. Su Yun hadn't expected anyone—he'd long given up on expecting anything at all—but there he was, standing at the edge of the marketplace, watching with eyes that seemed to see straight through him.
The auctioneer's voice still rang in the air, sharp and unrelenting, as though it could make something real out of Su Yun's emptiness.
"Six taels! Six tails for a beautiful ger!" The crowd shifted restlessly, eyes moving from one person to the next. But no one looked at him.
Not really.
Not in a way that mattered.
He was just another thing to be bought, another set of hands to work a field, another mouth to feed.
The thought clung to him like the cheap robe they'd given him to wear—thin, ill-fitting, and far too large for his slender frame.
"Six taels only!" The auctioneer repeated, his voice grating in the cool air.
Su Yun felt his shoulders tense but didn't move. He'd learned long ago that it was better not to attract attention.
The more people looked at him, the more they saw what they wanted—a thing to be owned, to be used, to be forgotten when it was no longer useful.
But then, the crowd parted.
The tall scary looking man stepped forward.
His eyes were strange. Not the cold, indifferent gaze that many had given him in the past, but something softer.
Something warmer, though hidden behind a scarred hand that reached out to grasp the leather purse.
"Five Taels, final prize" the man said, his voice low but firm.
There was a pause, a heartbeat that stretched too long.
That man had a scary face, with a huge scar on his lip. He looked like a bandet.
The auctioneer didn't dared to mess with such person and just cnodded and handed him a slip of paper, sealing the deal with a finality that made Su Yun's chest tighten.
Just like that he was sold, like a peace of rag..
The man didn't speak again as he turned, walking away without a word.
Su Yun hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the other buyers, the ones who'd only offered a glance of disinterest before moving on
There were no goodbyes, no farewells.
Just him and the man.
And five taels.
---
The journey back to the man's home was quiet. The road was long, winding between fields that stretched far beyond the horizon.
The land seemed endless, the sky infinite, and yet Su Yun felt small, insignificant in the vastness of it all. He didn't know why he was following. It wasn't like he had any choice.
The man never spoke, walking ahead, his steps purposeful and unhurried.
Su Yun's eyes drifted to his back, taking in the way his shoulders shifted under his worn tunic, the faintest trace of muscle beneath the rough fabric.
His body was ripped, that was for sure.
He started look at his new owners featurs clearly, not just his face.
He was way taller than Su Yun, his frame broad, and there was something steady about the way he moved—grounded, as though nothing could push him off balance.
They reached a small house at the edge of the village, tucked between two large willow trees, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze.
The walls were unadorned, the windows simple, and the roof thatched but sturdy. There was no sign of extravagance, no show of wealth. It was humble, functional, and yet Su Yun felt something stir inside him.
Was this to be his life now?
The man opened the door, his movements efficient, and nodded toward the small space inside.
The fire was already lit in the hearth, the smell of something cooking drifting from the kitchen.
It seems something had just been cooked.
"Come in," the man said, his voice just as quiet as before.
Su Yun stepped over the threshold, hesitant. The air inside was warmer, but it felt unfamiliar, too. There was no one here except them.
No sounds of children or bustling wives. Just the quiet of an empty house, the kind of silence that seemed to press in on him from all sides.
Just him and that man.
The man pointed toward the small table in the corner. "Sit."
Su Yun obeyed without thinking, lowering himself onto the rough-hewn chair, his fingers skimming the edge of the wooden surface.
There was a bowl of rice, some boiled vegetables, and a pot of something simmering over the fire. But he wasn't hungry. At least, not in the way the food demanded attention.
He was rather concern about his fate. This man didn't looked kind at all.
The man moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, his hands sure as he prepared the meal. He didn't glance at Su Yun, not once, as he sliced vegetables and stirred the pot.
There was a kind of quiet confidence in the way he worked, a silence that didn't feel uncomfortable, just... natural.
Su Yun watched, his gaze drawn to the rhythm of the man's movements.
He was good at this. The quiet, measured way he prepared each ingredient, the way the fire crackled in time with his motions.
It felt somewhat peaceful.
When the meal was ready, the man set the bowl before Su Yun, the food steaming gently in the evening air.
"Eat," he said simply.
Su Yun's fingers hesitated over the spoon, then he took it. It wasn't much—just rice, some vegetables—but it tasted better than anything he had eaten in a long time.
And for a moment, the emptiness inside him felt a little less hollow.
The man didn't say anything else. He ate his own meal in silence, watching the fire instead of Su Yun.
The only sounds were the quiet crackle of the flames and the soft clink of bowls against the wooden table.
When the meal was finished, Su Yun stood to clear the table, but the man stopped him with a raised hand.
"Leave it," he said, his tone as calm as ever. "It can wait."
Su Yun hesitated but sat back down, unsure what else to do. The silence between them was different now.
It was awkward. Su Yun didn't knew what talk with his new... Uh...Owner.
He finally mustered up the courage and asked, "What's your name?"
The man looked at him without a visible expression "Ren Shang"