Seventy-Eight: The Dying Two-Legged Lambs, Part Two

The creature was undoubtedly female, though that was not judged by her figure; it could only barely be inferred from the simple fact that her hips were a little broader than her shoulders, the most basic of human anatomical traits.

She lay helplessly on the ground. The exposed skin of her back and shoulders was covered, like body paint, in bruises and livid purple welts from a savage beating.

She was scarcely human anymore.

The scar burned into her arm in the shape of a sheep had long since darkened with age, proving the identity of that withered body.

A livestock slave, commonly called a two-legged sheep.

This darkest of histories needed no lesson from Yin Chan for Ming Tian to understand.

It was a slave unique to the Jie, and the lowest of all slaves.

Slaves were not uncommon.

Even high officials like Wang Jingze kept slaves in their households. In Ming Tian’s own home in Su Men Town, they too kept three household retainers who served the family as slaves.

Under ordinary circumstances, no matter how low a slave’s status, a master would still feed them. The food might be so poor it was nauseating, but they would be given enough to survive. There was never the sort of situation one imagined, where even meals were withheld.

The great and powerful kept slaves to make them work. It did not matter how bad the food was, but they had to be fed; otherwise how could they labor? If they could not work, why keep slaves at all? Slave owners were not fools.

Most slaves who starved to death were not being mistreated. It was because their owners no longer wished to support them, or because they were sick, or because they were unsellable.

But two-legged sheep were different.

The Jie were brutal, as everyone knew. Two-legged sheep were slaves who existed purely as food and toys, usually prisoners of war or the descendants of prisoners of war.

Even knowing this, Ming Tian was still stunned when he truly saw one.

How could this be a person? It was plainly a skeleton wrapped in a layer of skin.

Her tangled hair, reaching to her shoulders, had become dry and broken from malnutrition. Her face had been beaten swollen, puffy as a ball.

Her tree-bark skin was covered with countless pale red spots no larger than fingernails.

Her body seemed to have no moisture left in it at all, so much so that one could even make out the pattern of the bones beneath the skin of her arms.

Even the deranged Emperor of the Twilight would not have kept a slave like this.

Seeing such a creature in this narrow alley, Ming Tian did not need even a toe’s worth of thought to know that she had escaped. The Jie would not have had such a tender conscience as to let a two-legged sheep go free.

But now it was the second month of the first year of Yongtai. At this time, the Jie should have been under the rule of the Xianbei, and like the Di, should have stood at the edge of extinction.

Unlike the Di, who in Ming Tian’s own history were taken in by the Southern Qi, the Jie had met the same fate as in orthodox history: they were on the brink of annihilation.

So in theory there should have been no two-legged sheep left at all. Even if there were, they should not have appeared in Yu Province.

Ming Tian was deeply puzzled.

Could it be that Yu Province… was also hiding the Jie?

The Jie were not like Xiao Xinzhu’s Di people. Setting aside combat power, in terms of sheer cruelty the Jie were unquestionably first among the Five Barbarians. It was only unfortunate that they now stood at the edge of extinction.

But even so, the Jie’s ferocity and vindictiveness could never be underestimated.

Beside him, Xiao Xinzhu, who was always kind-hearted, merely looked at the dying two-legged sheep with pity and said nothing.

She was not so much afraid of the Jie as wary of them.

Ming Tian understood her thoughts. If he wanted to save her, then even if Xiao Xinzhu feared the Jie, she would surely agree. But whether to save her at all left Ming Tian caught on the horns of a dilemma.

To save her meant endless trouble if her master discovered it.

To leave her… any modern person with even a shred of decent morality would want to show mercy to such a pitiful slave.

This was the most basic human conscience.

Just as he hesitated, Ming Tian felt a faint tug from beneath his robe, as if something had hooked onto it. He glanced downward and saw, as expected, what had caught him.

A thin hand, like a dead branch, was gripping the hem of his robe.

The two-legged sheep raised her head slightly, as though using her final ounce of strength to look at Ming Tian.

She could be no more than twelve or thirteen. To be precise, she was so thin that her sex could barely be distinguished: a girl, her upper body bare, but because she was so emaciated, even the wing bones visible beneath her skin seemed as though they might pierce through her back at any moment.

“Save… me…”

Her voice was so weak that even a breeze could have covered it.

Her black eyes were hollow and powerless, turbid and lifeless.

That gaunt, desiccated body held not a single trace of vitality.

She was already a corpse. Of course, she had not yet breathed her last; the hand clutching Ming Tian’s robe was proof enough.

“Why… are you here?” Ming Tian swallowed and crouched down, at least asking the question.

The girl gave no reaction.

It was clear she was not pretending not to hear. She simply no longer had the strength to respond.

Because the eyelid of her right eye was swollen, the eye itself could only open a slit, gazing emptily into the air. There was not the slightest trace of hope in those cloudy pupils.

In truth, Ming Tian could have easily shaken off those fingers frailer than dead twigs with nothing more than a shift of his foot. But he did not.

In the palace, Ming Tian had believed that killing Zhao Ke and the man who had violated Zhao Ke’s wife, Qian Shan Duo, made him a heinous criminal.

Now, looking at this two-legged sheep, this pitiful slave girl, Ming Tian suddenly realized something.

Compared with the Jie, Qian Shan Duo was practically a saint.

What sort of monster could torture a twelve- or thirteen-year-old girl into this?

He should just kill her.

Ming Tian glanced at the dagger tucked into the waist of the dead male assassin nearby.

Perhaps death would be a release for this slave, but…

Ming Tian, who could slaughter bandits, Qian Shan Duo, and even other transmigrators without changing expression, now found himself hesitating.

“Save… me…”

The girl’s voice sounded again.

Still weak, but undeniably louder than before.

Within that voice was a longing for life.

Perhaps she had used every last ounce of strength merely to force out those two simple words a little more clearly.

Her head drooped, and she fell completely unconscious.

Ming Tian trembled faintly.

To kill, or not to kill? He might well be the last person she ever met. Because of that, Ming Tian could not simply leave. He had to make a decision.

Kill her, and grant her release—but… would that really be right?

If he did not kill her and chose instead to save her, what about the trouble she might bring later?

He turned and looked at An Luo.

An Luo was straightforward and righteous by nature. He was looking at Ming Tian with pleading eyes, as if hoping he would choose to save her.

Then he looked at his future wife, Xiao Xinzhu. She nodded trustingly, clearly meaning for him to follow his own heart.

After five seconds of thought, Ming Tian made his decision.

As the saying goes: when a poor bird flies into one’s arms, even the hunter does not kill it.

In my previous life I did enough things against my conscience. Since I have crossed into this world, I will live by my own heart!

Trouble? I even took down the Emperor of the Twilight. Do you think I’d be afraid of some Jie bastard? Today, I’m saving this two-legged sheep, and I’ll save her for you to see!

“An Luo, help me carry her back to the room. Wake Yin Chan while you’re at it. Xinzhu, bring the frying pan and wok spatula from my room. Also wake the innkeeper, give him some money, and ask him to lend me the kitchen!”

When the two behind him heard this decision, they both smiled in unison.

That was Ming Tian’s style.

…