The rider paused for a moment. Then, he announced in a bright voice, "We’ll also offer treatment for those who are sick! Whether it's a cold or a fever, it doesn't matter!"

Hearing that, the refugees who had children immediately went forward to ask for more details. Then, some people in the camp that appeared to be physicians started going around to inspect the skeletal frames and birth date of the children.[1]

"Selling myself into service..." An Jing's frame was much better than the average person's, making him rather tall for an eleven-year-old; he fulfilled those requirements without issue. Having heard what the rider said and looking at the queue of refugees who were bringing their sons and daughters forward, he gripped his fists tight. "Treatment..."

"Sir, my daughter has some frost burns..." A father could be seen kneeling in the snow with his arms around his daughter, begging the physicians earnestly. "Please don't let her die... I pray that you would be able to find the kindness in your heart to help..."

The girl's arms and fingers had turned purple from the frost, while she herself didn't seem too clear minded. As far as An Jing could tell, it wouldn't be long before she passed away, maybe even within the next hour or two. The physicians didn't seem to mind and came forward. One held her hand and pulled up her sleeves for a diagnosis, causing her to cry out in pain. Then, the father was asked for her birth date.

"Very well." After confirming it, the physician in charge turned around and whispered a few words to the one-eyed rider and the person dressed like a scribe. The two seemed rather pleased to hear what they were told.

"Treat her," said the leader. The physician then took out a few pellets from the box behind him and fed them to the girl. Then, he used an oily, red-purple paste on the frost-damaged parts of her arms. The girl screamed out subconsciously as if she was being burned alive, but it didn't take long before clarity returned to her gaze. She looked at her oily hands blankly before turning to look at her father with wonder in her eyes. "Papa, my hands... I can feel my hands!" 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"My dear daughter!" The father wasn't the talkative sort and immediately hugged his daughter tightly, before kneeling at the rider and physician and kowtowing toward them.

"Very well, now stand back." The leader was in a rather good mood and waved them off before turning to look at the rest.

The father and daughter's predicament had been known across the camp and most thought that the girl wouldn't live for long even with treatment. Yet, the riders used their precious medical supplies to save her, sparking quite a bit of excitement. The refugees were fully convinced that they had come across wealthy benefactors. Yet, An Jing noticed a few things that stood out when he swept his eyes across the camp.

First, the riders seemed to carry themselves in a disciplined manner, a clear sign of strict and harsh training. Their leader was powerful and was constantly on guard, ready to draw his blade to fight at any moment, not letting his guard down in the slightest. Second, the scribe who stood behind the leader was more than met the eye. An Jing's mother, Madam Shen, could be considered an initiate of the martial path in her own right; she had reached the Silk Aura Stage, making her more than the average backwater martialist.

The fact that An Jing could assess his mother's prowess but had no idea how strong the scribe was meant that the scribe either used some kind of concealment technique or had power on the level of the Tide Aura Stage! With this degree of training and prowess, they were no doubt from a household or clan of great renown. In that case, why would they not even announce who they were?

"This is a bit odd, but they really do have medicine to spare..." After seeing the girl being brought back from the brink of death, An Jing didn't doubt that these people also had the medicines to treat his mother. They also didn't seem like slavers at all. Slavers captured children only for the purpose of selling them off. There was no way they would spend resources to invest in faulty merchandise like the weak or sickly; normally, they wouldn't even bother to capture them. On the other hand, this group seemed to value the children themselves and were thus willing to treat them.

"Is the government of Grand Chen trying to raise deathsworn? Or maybe it's a hidden sect... They are so precise, to the point of inspecting recruits for their bone structure and asking about their birth date..." An Jing furrowed his brow in deep thought. If it was just a normal clan, he wouldn't mind selling himself to them in exchange for getting his mother treatment. In the event that they were the kind of clan who beat and tortured their servants, he could simply fight his way out. No normal clan would be able to stop him from running. And even if they were slavers, An Jing was confident that he could find an opportunity to slip away using his cunning. Yet these people of questionable origin had a mysterious backer of great influence, which made his decision hard. For all he knew, they could serve some evil sect from the southern frontier, heavenly demon cult or some weird monstrosity deep in the ancient wilderness.

Forget it. He cast away his doubts and shook his head slightly. Everything aside, that didn't change the fact that these people were doing good deeds to help others survive. An Jing didn't have any alternative either. He closed his eyes and recalled how his mother's condition had deteriorated day after day before his very eyes. The worst that could happen to him if he sold himself was ending up dead, but that was highly unlikely. On the other hand, his mother would definitely die at this rate. With that, he no longer hesitated and approached the riders' camp.

To the parents, selling their children into servitude was a surefire way to guarantee both their and their children's survival. The riders were generous and willing to offer treatment and food, after all, which only incentivized most of the refugee parents to go forward. It didn't take long before more than twenty children were assembled. The parents claimed their food compensation and stood aside, looking at their children from afar with complex expressions on their faces. An Jing walked toward the group alone across the snowfield.

"Hmm?" The scribe beside the one-eyed leader seemed to notice something and turned toward An Jing. It was just a casual glance, but then his eyes instantly focused, staring intensely at An Jing. The leader took note and turned around as well, before his sole eye brightened.

An Jing was young and around seven chi tall, sporting a skinny body like the other refugee children.[2] The only thing that made him stand out from the rest was his above-average height, but that itself wasn't remarkable at the northern frontier. However, the leader and scribe were both martial practitioners and they instantly saw through An Jing's superficial slenderness and noticed his firm bones and rich vigor.

"Are you going to sell yourself into service?" The one-eyed leader turned his horse around with great interest. "For you, I can even do a special deal. I’ll offer you two measures of rice!"

"Sir." An Jing looked at the intense group of riders. He saluted their smiling leader with one hand cupped around his other fist, not showing the slightest hint of fear in his gaze. With a firm voice, he said, "I am willing to serve, but not for myself. My mother needs treatment.

"My father is one of the commended and I come from a family of distinguished martial tradition. I have a healthy body, free of ailments. Life on the ice fields might be difficult, but there is no need for me to sell my freedom to survive. However, my mother's lung meridians are damaged and she is urgently in need of treatment. Pray tell, Sir, do you have any medication for this malady? I am worth this much."[3]

The one-eyed leader's smile faded when he heard that. He squinted his eye and inspected An Jing even more thoroughly before spurring his horse hard, causing it to leap and land next to him. The gigantic Northwest Froststeed looked like a war carriage made from flesh and blood. Even the lightest step it took caused the ground to rumble. Most people would instinctively withdraw at the sight of such a gigantic beast approaching them even knowing that they wouldn't be run down, yet An Jing held his posture and didn't so much as bat an eyelid. His expression didn't shift in the slightest.

"Very well. As they say, learning the arts does not a brave man make. I didn't believe you when you said that you had trained in the martial way before, but now, I do." He smiled brightly and continued, "You are special, no doubt. As for whether you're worth the price you asked for..."

The one-eyed rider exchanged glances with the scribe, who said something along the lines of the boy being about the same as the rider back then when he was of similar age. Then, the scribe vanished completely. An Jing's irises dilated in shock; he hadn't been able to see the scribe's movements one bit!

The one-eyed leader dismounted, his huge form towering over An Jing. Every bit of his body was filled with powerful vigor; the snow around him melted the instant he landed on the ground. Every step he took was firm and heavy; those who only heard his footsteps and didn't know that it was a person would think that a wild highland bull was prancing around. He exuded a raw aura of slaughter and a bloody musk, one that was even more intense than those of the bandits that had raided the wastelands years back.

Looking even more closely at An Jing, he smiled with satisfaction.

"You're thin, but you have firm foundations. No wonder you're so confident—" Before he finished, he grabbed An Jing's arm and pressed firmly to ascertain his visual assessment.

"Good bones!" he praised, feeling like he had just gripped a freshly cast metal ingot or a piece of ice that had remained frozen for centuries. "Your bones are strong and well proportioned. Very, very good... We barely come across someone like you once every few decades..."

Apart from the pain, An Jing felt a stream of formless energy flow along his arm and spread throughout his body's pressure points, causing a ticklish, sore sensation. He endured it without letting it show on his face. This is no normal technique... It's a high-level technique only those of the River Aura Stage can use! Given the intensity of the aura, the rider had to be at the Tide Aura Stage!

The scribe in white reappeared and nodded mildly at the leader, causing him to pull his arm back. He gave An Jing one last look and mounted his horse. "You are indeed worth it. Here, this is yours."

Meanwhile, the scribe and the physician brought over a chest filled with rations and medication. The leader continued, "The medication should be enough to treat your mother's injuries. The rations should be enough for you to have a good feast. Take them and bring them to your mother. Make sure to come back later."

The leader didn't say anything else, for both he and An Jing were well aware of the consequences of a deal not kept. An Jing knew that he had been lucky that the rider looked upon him so well as to offer him this heavy chest full of goods; it was almost as large as him. The medication within was enough to trade for ten lives in the frost-ravaged northern province.

An Jing grabbed the handles of the chest without hesitation and lifted it up to his shoulder. "Thank you, Sir."

Though his breathing was heavy, he could still speak. He turned around with the chest and headed toward his mother's tent.

1. The birth date and time are relevant for fortune-telling. See more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_Pillars_of_Destiny. ☜

2. Chi 尺 is an archaic Chinese unit for length. In ancient times it was usually defined to be approximately 23cm. ☜

3. The commended are people who have passed an official state examination and received a formal title of acknowledgement. Read more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juren ☜