After an unknown amount of time, Zhang Ling vaguely heard voices. "Second Master, these are all the people in the entire village who are of age." "Good, Xiong Da, you've done well. Wake these little brats up." "Yes!" With a splash, Zhang Ling felt a basin of cold water poured over him, instantly waking him up completely. He opened his eyes and saw that he was in the open space in the center of the village, with seven or eight other boys of similar age beside him. These were all his peers from the village, now drenched and looking around in terror. Zhang Ling saw a dozen or so burly men surrounding them not far away. Most of these men were dressed in burlap clothes, some holding long knives, their faces fierce as they looked at them, as if sizing up prey in a cage. There were also some people lying on the ground, covered in blood, some missing limbs. Seeing this, he knew that these villagers were dead. Considering the bandits had entered the village the previous night, and looking at the current situation, it seemed the entire village had been massacred by these bandits.
Thinking of this, Zhang Ling thought of his grandfather. He didn't find his grandfather's body among the corpses. The most frightening of these corpses was a headless male body. Seeing this body without a head, Zhang Ling's lips trembled. Although the body was headless, he clearly remembered the clothes it wore. It was Uncle Wang Feng. This Uncle Feng was the village chief's eldest son, usually honest and kind. He was the man who Qing Tian Village hoped would become the next village chief, but he was dead. This left Zhang Ling, who had never left the village, stunned. The bandits were so cruel. A good village had turned into this overnight. He couldn't accept such a thing. Having fallen into the hands of these people, one could imagine what would happen next. "You little brats, all of you stand up for me!" "Did you hear that?" "Stand up if you don't want to die, hurry up!" A loud shout brought Zhang Ling back to his senses. He saw a bald, burly man with a face full of橫肉 (hengrou, excess flesh), waving a large knife at them. Zhang Ling and the others stood up one by one. These teenagers were already terrified, each one as stiff as a wooden chicken. A middle-aged man in a white shirt walked over, approaching them with a smile. This man had a fair complexion, holding a folding fan, dressed as a scholar, with quite a bit of elegance. For some reason, he seemed to have some status among these bandits. The middle-aged scholar walked up to Zhang Ling and the others, looking at each of them one by one. He walked around them slowly, saying, "From today on, you are my subordinates." "I will give you food, clothes, and shelter. Whatever you want, I will satisfy you." "I only need you to listen to me. Whatever I ask you to do, you must do." The middle-aged scholar's tone was unhurried but full of energy. Standing to the side, Zhang Ling felt an aura from this man, a dangerous aura. Whenever this man's eyes swept over him, he felt inexplicably nervous. "Stand properly!" The middle-aged scholar suddenly stopped speaking and waved his hand at a small, thin figure, striking the boy's face with his folding fan. With a smack!
The small boy was knocked to the ground. The other boys took a few steps back at this sight, and no one dared to speak at this moment. Zhang Ling caught a glimpse of the boy. This was the grandson of Granny Wang in the village, only nine years old this year. He was sitting on the ground with tears in his eyes, but he didn't cry out, as if he was terrified. The folding fan in the middle-aged scholar's hand was broken, but he continued, unconcerned, "From today on, you are orphans. Do you know why?" "Your parents are useless; they are dead now." "But Second Master is capable, so you must strive to be strong. If you want to live, you must live like a man, make something of yourselves, and follow Second Master. At critical moments, you must rely on this." The middle-aged scholar picked up a large knife and waved it a few times in the air. "Come, bring the things up." The scholar waved his hand at a bandit beside him. In a moment, four bare-chested men carried a black pig in front of Zhang Ling and the others. This black pig, weighing two or three hundred pounds, was the black pig raised by the village chief's family. It was tied tightly and struggling on the ground, squealing. "Now, Second Master will test you to see if you are men and if you can follow Second Master." The scholar looked at the black pig on the ground, his expression sinking, and said coldly to Zhang Ling and the others. "Come, you cut off this pig's head for me." Second Master shook the long knife in his hand, pointed at a boy, and stuck the knife into the ground. The boy was Zhang Ling. For a moment, he didn't move, feeling weak all over, and couldn't help but take half a step back. Smack! "Boy, Second Master is giving you a chance, don't be ungrateful." Seeing Zhang Ling step back, the bald, burly man grabbed him and slapped him hard across the face. Zhang Ling's face instantly swelled up, and the bald man dragged him in front of the black pig. "Take the knife, cut off the pig's head and you can live. Otherwise, I'll cut off your head!" The bald man shouted at Zhang Ling. Zhang Ling had been farming with his grandfather since he was a child. Although he was no stranger to slaughtering livestock, he had only seen the slaughter of such large livestock two or three times in the entire Qing Tian Village. At this moment, he was somewhat at a loss as to whether to cut off the head of a live pig. Feeling the burning sensation on his face, despite his pale face, Zhang Ling mechanically picked up the long knife on the ground and walked towards the black pig. "Raise the knife, cut!" "Cut quickly, this kid is scared silly, haha..." The surrounding bandits shouted excitedly, but the middle-aged scholar watched Zhang Ling's movements with a cold eye, looking quite interested. Zhang Ling seemed to be frightened. Trembling, he came to the black pig. Looking at the struggling black pig on the ground, his hands holding the knife couldn't help but tremble. He thought of his grandfather, Qing Tian Village, and his own situation. This group of bandits killed without batting an eye. He had no doubt that if he didn't cut off the pig's head, he would die here. He wanted to live, he wanted to live. With the belief of living, Zhang Ling raised the heavy knife with both hands, a fierce look in his eyes. Holding the long knife high, listening to the shouts of the surrounding bandits, he struck down with the knife. The black pig struggled frantically, scaring him back a few steps, and he fell to the ground. The black pig twisted frantically on the ground, but its limbs were tightly bound. The more it struggled, the less it could escape, and it could only lie on the ground and howl pitifully. "Haha, this kid is too stupid!"
"Cut again!" Zhang Ling's knife didn't cut off the pig's head, only leaving a long wound on its neck. Red blood gushed out of the wound. Looking at the struggling black pig, Zhang Ling seemed to see himself. Pale-faced, he lowered his head, got up from the ground, picked up the knife, shouted, and slashed at the black pig again. He hacked at the black pig's head, one strike after another. Zhang Ling didn't know how many times he had struck, until the black pig stopped struggling, and he could no longer hold the knife steady, kneeling on the ground. Under his frenzied hacking, most of the black pig's head was cut off, and its body was covered with knife marks. It lay motionless on the ground, with blood flowing all over the ground. Zhang Ling was covered in blood, half of his body stained red with pig blood, his hands still trembling. Smelling the bloody smell on his body, looking at the black pig's corpse, his face was ugly, his chest and abdomen were uncomfortable, and he couldn't help but gag a few times, spitting out some bitter water before he felt better. "Good, very good, you little brats, you all see, he has proven that he has the courage and is qualified to follow me. What about you?" Second Master didn't care about him, but looked at the remaining boys. Next, a few bandits brought over two more black pigs for these boys to slaughter. With Zhang Ling's performance, the other boys also mustered up their courage and followed suit. In the cheers of the bandits, one by one, the teenagers picked up butcher knives and slashed at the black pigs. Zhang Ling was still sitting on the ground, his heart chilling at this scene, seeming to see the future of these peers. These people, covered in blood, shouted and slashed excitedly. Today they can slaughter black pigs, and in the near future, they will become members of these bandits, killing and massacring villages. Soon, night fell, and the sky darkened. These bandits lit a bonfire on the spot and began to cook. Those of them who remained, the survivors of Qing Tian Village, were guarded by two bandits and sat on the spot, their faces bloodless and their expressions dull. As a reward for slaughtering the pigs, they were each given some meat. They rarely ate meat, but none of them could be happy, their faces ashen. Zhang Ling didn't know his fate next, didn't know if he could survive. ...