A bloodied man was being carried back by another man.Yan Mo looked over and saw several people following behind them. One of them held a spear, and there was blood all over his body. A woman and two children ran after them, crying as they went.Several people rushed into the tent the woman had come from. From inside, Yan Mo vaguely heard someone shout, "Did you call the healer yet?""I already did!" someone replied.Cao Ting pressed her lips together and squatted down. "That's third-rank warrior Da He. Looking at how badly he's hurt, I don't know if he can be saved. And if he can't… his family will have a very hard time from now on."Yan Mo looked back toward the tent.The warrior called Da He had a broken leg. The broken bone had pierced through the skin. There might also be injuries in his abdomen; otherwise it would have been impossible for him to lose so much blood.Judging by the rate of blood loss, if the bleeding was not stopped within an hour, Da He would be dead.Maybe this was an opportunity for Yan Mo.But it had come at the worst possible time.Yan Mo lowered his head and quietly opened his right palm. Once again, the strange book appeared. The open pages glowed with words similar to the last two messages.—Teaching others knowledge: scum value -1. Total scum value: 99,999,998.What was this thing?And what was it for?If it had appeared in the hand of some modern, well-informed person, that person might first have been shocked or delighted.But Yan Mo…Yan Mo, who had worked himself to death all his life, who had spent every waking hour pushing himself to be more capable, more successful, more useful—he had never played online games, never read web novels, and barely watched television except for the news. He knew of "rebirth" and "transmigration" only because he had once read news stories about children harming themselves because they wanted to "cross over" into another world.He had always felt that life was too short.He could not even understand how young people managed to spend so much time on the internet, or on romance, or on anything he considered meaningless. If all the time other people wasted had been given to him, he believed he could have achieved even more. He could have been richer, more powerful, more successful—maybe even enough to escape the end he had met.So when something like this appeared in his palm, his first reaction was not excitement.It was anger.The anger of being watched.
Being measured.
Being judged.Yan Mo sneered at the word scum written in the Guide to Banishment.According to his grandmother, he had not been a good omen from the day he was born.Although he had once believed that he had been honest and kind as a child, everyone around him had said otherwise, and in the end he had not bothered to argue.His thoughts slipped unwillingly into the memories of the past, making his expression darken.He did not like remembering the first twenty years of his life. He hated that period. He hated the person he had been, the family he had grown up with, the relatives and acquaintances he had known, and almost everyone he had met then.Since the age of twenty, he had told himself never to regret anything again.Sometimes a person took one wrong step, realized it was wrong, but then kept walking farther and farther down that road until there was no way back.In fact, Yan Mo had always known that he had gone the wrong way. He knew his values and morality had long since twisted into something ugly. But he had been too stubborn to admit it, too unwilling to confess that what he had done in life had often been wrong—even sinful.If he had the chance now, he would give up everything to return to that earlier time.Then he remembered the words he had shouted before he died.He could not remember them exactly, but he knew he had cursed God. He seemed to recall insulting God's manhood, cursing Him for being unfair, and asking why retribution always fell on those who should not bear it. It had all been the last outburst of a man cornered by bitterness.Did that curse have anything to do with this transmigration?Did the appearance of the Guide to Banishment in his palm mean something more?So far, he had reduced his scum value by only two points. If he reduced it all the way from one hundred million points to zero… what then? What was God planning to do with him?Yan Mo was a practical man. He did not think God had sent him here to save the world. Anyone or anything that had dragged him into this place must have some purpose."I need a promise," Yan Mo said to his right hand in Chinese.Cao Ting looked up at him. "What did you say?"Yan Mo gave a weak smile. "Nothing. Just a few spells the old priest taught me. He said they could help drive away illness and speed healing.""Oh." Cao Ting looked nervous. "I hope I didn't interrupt?""No, you didn't."Yan Mo continued speaking inwardly to the Guide."I want a guarantee. If I honestly stay in this world and reform, if I reduce my scum value to zero, what will you give me?"The pages did not respond.It seemed the thing had no direct communication function.Yan Mo was not discouraged. He muttered to himself, "Since you're a guide, then at least tell me what I'm supposed to do. If you won't answer me, can't I search it myself? A book… if it's a book, then there should be a table of contents. Show me the table of contents!"This time, the Guide responded.Several glowing pages flipped rapidly before stopping at one headed:DirectoryYan Mo gave it only a quick glance. He judged that he would probably find some answers there, but now was not the right time to study it. He took a slow breath, pressed his palm closed, and forced himself to put his suspicion aside for the moment.The Guide seemed able to sense when he stopped looking. As soon as he clenched his hand, it disappeared.The rotten flesh on his leg had been scraped away, exposing fresher tissue underneath.Yan Mo picked up the wooden scoop that had also been boiled and dipped it into the salt water. He took a small sip to test the concentration. It seemed acceptable.Then he poured it over the wound."Aahhh!"Yan Mo trembled violently. The veins in his neck and temples stood out, and his face twisted from the pain.Cao Ting was so startled that she fell back onto the ground. Recovering quickly, she rushed over. "Little Mo! What happened? What did you do? Gods!"Yan Mo leaned against the water tank for a while, sweating heavily as he fought to steady himself.He had no better option.Without proper medicine, salt water of the right concentration could help disinfect and stop bleeding. His wound had been infected for too long. Even though the flesh beneath was still alive, he could not afford to be careless just because the treatment hurt.Cao Ting did not understand why Yan Mo insisted on torturing himself. He had scraped away his own rotten flesh with a stone knife and was now pouring salt water into the wound. Was this really the kind of treatment the Salt Mountain priest taught? In her eyes, that priest sounded even more terrifying than the old priest of the Yuan Tribe.Still, the child was pitiful.Not only had he been brought here as a slave, but he now had to suffer this kind of agony as well. Cao Ting had no faith at all that Yan Mo could truly heal a broken leg like this. She only hoped that somehow he might survive and not die like so many other slaves.Yan Mo's screams did not attract much attention. There were always slaves crying out nearby for one reason or another.Besides, the cries coming from Da He's tent were loud enough to drown out everything else.Yan Mo sat up straighter and positioned his injured leg carefully. He had not eaten properly for two days, and by all logic he should have been too weak to sit up at all. Yet, much like the wound itself, there seemed to be some strange force in his body supporting him.Thirst, hunger, pain, dizziness…None of those feelings had disappeared.It was as if some deep malice had wrapped itself around his life. As though someone hated him enough to keep him alive just so he could consciously "enjoy" every bit of suffering.Sweating heavily, Yan Mo slowly lifted his left hand and raised a middle finger toward the blue sky.Cao Ting thought he was continuing to cast a spell.At that moment, four tall, dark-skinned warriors with tattoos approached, escorting an old man with a scepter and a teenage boy beside him.Yan Mo immediately guessed the old man's identity.The instant Cao Ting saw him, her expression changed. She quickly pressed a hand against Yan Mo's shoulder and whispered urgently, "Don't move! Lower your head! Close your eyes!"Following her instructions, Yan Mo dropped his head at once.Cao Ting even pushed him lower until he looked as submissive as possible.None of the six people passing by gave them so much as a glance.Cao Ting turned slightly, secretly watching the old man enter Da He's tent, then let out a soft sigh of relief. Only then did she release Yan Mo."Who was that?" Yan Mo asked quietly as she helped him sit up again."That was the priest, and the one beside him was his disciple. Remember this: it's fine to look at warriors, but when you see the priest, the elders, or the chief, you must lower yourself at once. If you can't kneel, then crouch down or lie flat and pretend to be dead.""And if I don't?"Cao Ting looked at him almost pityingly. "Then even your master won't be able to protect you.""What kind of punishment would I get?""Oh, that depends on their mood at the time."Yan Mo: …What a rotten slave society.But even if he had not been a slave, he doubted that old priest looked like a generous or broad-minded man. If he offended someone like that, the result would not be good."Can the priest save Da He?" Yan Mo asked in a low voice."Of course," Cao Ting replied without hesitation."Oh?" So the priest's medical ability might be better than he had expected."But even if Da He survives," Cao Ting added sadly, "I'm afraid he won't be able to be a warrior anymore.""Why?"She looked at him strangely. "He's hurt that badly. His bone was sticking out. Even if they don't cut the leg off, it won't be useful again, and that's his weapon arm side too."So the priests here still could not truly handle broken bones.That meant Yan Mo still had value.But if he now jumped up and insisted on treating Da He, not only might he fail to get a reward, he might even offend the priest.People in positions of authority were used to being worshiped. How would someone like that react if a mere boy stepped out and implied he could do what the priest could not?Yan Mo did not need to think long to know the answer.In that case, he would not take the initiative. He would treat his own injuries first and think of everything else later.Cao Ting wiped the sweat from Yan Mo's face and gave him more water. Seeing him continue to work on his wound, she could not help feeling that this child was unexpectedly strong.If the Salt Mountain people had not been attacked by the Zhi Tribe, would this child perhaps have grown into a powerful warrior someday?Maybe even a third-rank one?But now that was impossible.Cao Ting's gaze fell to Yan Mo's broken leg.No matter how strong a warrior was, once crippled, he would either be downgraded or fall all the way into civilian status. And if he became a civilian, how would he support family or slaves? How would the tribe support them either?Yan Mo did not notice the pity in Cao Ting's expression. He had no intention of spending the rest of his life as someone else's slave, waiting to be slaughtered.He asked Cao Ting for the small stone pot. Using the stone knife as a scraper, he ground the crushed cirsium leaves into a paste and spread it evenly over the wound."Sister, I need you to help me a little. It's simple. Don't be afraid. Hold my leg like this—yes, just there."Yan Mo instructed Cao Ting where to grip his leg."I need to set the broken bone back in place. Because it's been broken for a while, the flesh has already tightened. You'll need to pull first. Watch my head. When I nod, turn my calf toward you until I can align the bone."He repeated the instructions three times before Cao Ting finally nodded hesitantly.Yan Mo found a peeled wooden stick of the right size and shoved it into his mouth. With Cao Ting gripping his leg, he took two deep breaths. Once he was ready, he nodded.Cao Ting did not dare use much strength.But her natural strength was still greater than Yan Mo had expected. With only a slight turn—"Ahhh!"Yan Mo bit down on the stick so hard his teeth ached.As the flesh and muscle shifted, he immediately forced the broken bones back into alignment as closely as possible.The cirsium leaf juice would not help the bone heal, but at least it could reduce inflammation and stop bleeding.He grabbed the wooden splints he had prepared in advance, placed them on either side of the leg, and tied them tightly in place with straw rope.Yan Mo worked quickly.For all his many flaws, his hands were skilled and experienced. He might have been ruthless to others and even harsher toward himself, but he truly knew what he was doing.Nearby, the priest's young disciple emerged from Da He's tent carrying a burning stick taken from the fire pit.A short while later, he went back inside with it.Then—"Ahhhhhh!!"A scream tore through the air, loud enough to shake the entire area.Yan Mo's hands tightened around the straw rope. He thought he could smell burning flesh on the wind. But after only the briefest pause, he lowered his head and continued working on his own leg as though he had heard nothing.Then the white light appeared again in his palm.Yan Mo opened his right hand and saw a new line written there:—Not saving a dying man: scum value +10. Total scum value: 100,000,008.That line disappeared after five seconds, replaced by another:—Scum value has exceeded 100 million points. Punishment will be administered 8 times. In order not to interfere with daily reformation, one round of torture will be carried out per night. The second punishment will be executed tonight, so as to not affect further scum reduction.Yan Mo: "…Fuck me."