Underneath A Thousand Skies ✔️

67 Foster Son, Don't Be So Crazy (4)

A teenager that was about the same age as Song Jia's current body came forward.

His skin was tanned, his frame lean but wiry. His hair was shorn close to his scalp, and his gray eyes, pale as forged steel, drifted over the crowd with no warmth. His glance lingered on Song Jia for a few seconds, making her heartbeat stop for a moment.

"Yes, sir." His voice was filled with respect as he bowed his head towards the foot soldier.

Suddenly, the heavy door opened again. A woman entered, her armor a deep iron-black lined with muted red, the silver crest at her collar glinting faintly. Her expression was unreadable, but the guards straightened the moment she stepped inside. She didn't stay long. With a curt gesture, she motioned to another group of guards and strode out, leaving them to straighten out the held prisoners.

Men patrolled the barrack after she left. They were not the true masters, but only enforcers that was appointed under the Lady-Commandmant's banner. After the armored woman's visit, the atmosphere grew taut.

The foot soldier spat toward the ground and told the teenager, "Don't let them put one toe out of line, you hear me? Punish those needed to be punished, and report those who needed fixing. I'll leave the rest to you."

"Yes, sir."

After a heavy pat on the teenager's back, the foot soldier and the rest of them left. The door thudded shut behind them, leaving only the crackle of a distant torch and the shuffle of bare feet.

The teenager surveyed them, and then his voice went cold.

"Children younger than ten carry wooden planks from the storage shed to the main building from dawn to dusk. Women are tasked to wash the uniform, and clean their bathrooms. They handle the cooking, the sewing, the firewood, and the water. Some of you are also segregated into the flower house, where the Lady Commandmant might choose you to tend to her household, serve her male relatives or favored soldiers. It is considered an honor to be taken into an officer's service; refusal is a death sentence. The male soldiers themselves have no right to touch anyone without her order.

"Boys who are older than ten do absolutely everything else. There are two rations of hard bread a day. If the soldiers are generous, you get the scraps from their table. Stop working, and you get killed. Disobey, and you get killed. Look the soldiers wrongly in the eyes, you get killed. Become sick, and you get killed."

He looked dispassionately at the man whose nose was still bleeding. In one swift move, he pulled out a dagger and slit his throat. The slaves uttered a frightened gasp and scurried away like mice. The blood poured down and splattered on the floor, appearing black in the dim light.

He wiped the blade on the man's tunic and held it up for all to see.

"This dagger's a special privilege given to me. If you work hard enough, they'll reward you. In each barrack, they'll appoint three overseers — slaves like you — that are given better food, lighter work, sometimes even a blanket. If you want that kind of position, follow each and every one of my orders and I'll recommend you to them. Likewise, disobey me and I can kill you without blinking. Understand?"

The slaves became restless, and a glint of greed shone from their eyes. They took it as an opportunity to raise their status and live better than they used to. Some of them immediately gave fawning looks to the teenager.

Song Jia's lips quirked. It was really a good play. Scare them, then give them hope, dangling a juicy bait of a future reward to make them effortlessly obey him. No wonder those soldiers had put their trust in him.

"Work begins at dawn."

After saying this, the teenager ordered his new obedient minions to take away the corpse of the man he killed. While they were busy, Song Jia glanced around the dim barrack to look for Xiang Feng. The sooner she found him, the sooner that they could leave.

This was not the best place for a child to grow up in. Especially since he had the future of becoming a ruthless killer.

"What's your name?"

Song Jia jumped in surprise. She didn't know when the teenager had walked over and stood next to her. His eyes held a look of interest but Song Jia shifted away. He smiled, then closed the distance between them as he leaned towards her. A faint scent of something sweet and flowery drifted towards his nose.

His eyes narrowed in contemplation.

She pursed her lips. "I'll tell you if you tell me yours first."

He didn't hesitate. "I'm called Nian Shou."

Song Jia's eyebrows rose up, but she still didn't say anything.

"I'm called Jia."

He smiled at her. She could see that his teeth were white under the torchlight. It seemed he was telling them the truth when he said that he was living well.

"You have a nice name."

Song Jia was still uncomfortable being stared at by him, so she lay down on the rough straw and ignored him. She heard him chuckle softly before his footsteps faded into the darkness.

Song Jia clutched the cloak tightly beneath her chin, the wide hood covering her hair.

Shoulders bumped into hers, while sharp elbows jabbed against her back. Song Jia sighed, suddenly missing her luxurious bedchamber in the zhengfang. She wondered if Xiang Feng was also lying on his mattress like her, unable to sleep.

Torchlight licked the stone walls, painting long shadows over rows of shivering bodies. Chains clinked softly with every breath. Somewhere outside, a guard laughed. It was a harsh, ugly sound that broke the stillness.

"Just endure a little more, and I'll take you away," Song Jia murmured, half to herself, and half to Xiang Feng. "Just endure it a little more..."

Eventually, without meaning to, Song Jia fell deeply asleep.