The journey continued for three more weeks across the barren desert. Each day brought new suffering—the scorching heat, dwindling water, and an exhaustion that gnawed even at the strongest bodies.
Li Yuan watched it all. He saw how the number of those in chains slowly diminished—some died from exhaustion, others from dehydration, and a few from a disease that spread rapidly in the unsanitary conditions. The bodies were left in the sand without ceremony, without a name, without any acknowledgment that a human being had died.
Just a number in the Eunuch's ledger. A calculated loss. An adjusted profit margin.
And each day, Li Yuan's anger grew a little deeper, even as his Water Comprehension worked tirelessly to maintain balance. But even the calmest ocean has depths where dark currents flow, waiting for the moment to rise to the surface.
On the twenty-first day, the caravan finally reached their destination: the city of Zhardar, a trading hub on the western side of the desert.
Zhardar was a city built around a deep artesian well—a water source that never ran dry, even in the hottest seasons. Because of this, it had grown into a major trading center where merchants from all over the region gathered to buy and sell their wares.
Including human "wares."
Li Yuan entered the city with a stillness that carried the weight of controlled tension. Through his Wenjing Realm, he immediately heard a symphony of intentions that made something dark and cold flow through his consciousness.
There was no moral discomfort here. No whispered shame or averted gazes. Slavery in Zhardar was not something hidden or considered shameful—it was an open and accepted part of the city's economy.
In the central square, the largest slave market Li Yuan had ever seen was laid out. Hundreds—perhaps thousands—of human beings were displayed in cages organized by "category."
One section for strong men, suitable for heavy labor. Another section for young women to be sold as domestic servants—or for darker purposes. A special section for children, who stared with vacant eyes as potential buyers inspected their teeth like checking a horse.
And in a separate corner of the market, there were special cages with much higher prices—a place where humans were sold not for labor or service, but for sadistic entertainment.
Li Yuan stood on the edge of the market, observing with cold attention. He saw how buyers negotiated—haggling over prices like buying livestock, checking muscles and teeth to ensure quality, and rejecting those with scars or defects because they reduced value.
Through his Wenjing Realm, he heard the buyers' intentions: no remorse, no moral questions. Just economic calculations—how much work could be squeezed from this slave? How long would they last? Was the price worth the investment?
And he heard the slaves' intentions: a fear so profound that it had turned into paralysis, unanswered prayers, and in some cases, a dark hope that death would come soon and end the suffering.
On the first afternoon, Li Yuan witnessed a public auction on a large platform in the middle of the market.
An auctioneer—a fat man with a loud voice and dramatic gestures—led a procession of "wares" onto the platform, one by one, shouting their qualities to the crowd of buyers.
"First unit! A man, twenty-five years old, Nalir race, prime strength! Suitable for mining or construction! Six-month warranty or replacement!"
The man—dark-skinned with a body that was still muscular despite clear wounds—stood on the platform with eyes staring vacantly ahead. There was no resistance. No dignity left to uphold. Just a submission born of absolute despair.
"Opening bid, five hundred gold coins!"
"Five hundred fifty!"
"Six hundred!"
The bidding rose quickly, and the man was finally sold for eight hundred fifty gold coins to a mine owner who was clearly looking for cheap labor—labor that could be disposed of when it was no longer productive.
This process was repeated dozens of times. Men, women, children—all displayed, assessed, bid on, and sold like cattle at a market.
But what made something inside Li Yuan almost explode was when a young woman—no more than eighteen, with dark skin and eyes that still showed traces of beauty beneath the fear—was brought onto the platform.
The auctioneer smiled in a way that made Li Yuan feel an almost uncontrollable rage.
"Special unit! A young woman, Zahir race, never used! Suitable for domestic service or... private needs! Opening bid, one thousand gold coins!"
The crowd reacted with a horrific enthusiasm. Bids jumped quickly—twelve hundred, fifteen hundred, two thousand.
The woman stood on the platform with a trembling body, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. Through his Wenjing Realm, Li Yuan heard her intention: a desperate prayer for death, for an end to this suffering, for liberation by any means.
And he heard the intentions of the buyers who were bidding—dark desires, plans on how they would "use" their purchase, the sadistic satisfaction in having absolute power over another human being.
The woman was finally sold for two thousand three hundred gold coins to a wealthy nobleman with luxurious clothes and eyes that carried a darkness that made even other merchants feel uncomfortable.
As she was dragged down from the platform, her eyes met Li Yuan's for a fraction of a second—and in that look, Li Yuan saw something that made his decision final.
He couldn't just observe anymore. He couldn't just understand the system without acting.
But what was the right action? That was still the haunting question.
In the evening, Li Yuan walked through the darker parts of the city—the places where purchased slaves were "stored" before being moved to their final destinations. Large warehouses with barred windows, muffled sounds of crying, and guards standing with bored expressions.
At one of the warehouses, he heard something that made him stop.
A scream. Not from pain—or not just pain—but from something more horrifying. The scream of someone who had lost their last hope, who realized there would be no rescue, no mercy, no end but death.
Li Yuan did not enter. He didn't need to see to understand what was happening inside. Through his Wenjing Realm, he heard enough—he heard the intention of a buyer who had just acquired his "wares" and was now "testing the quality," he heard the unspoken suffering, he heard a darkness that couldn't be described in words without becoming a part of the cruelty itself.
He turned and walked away, but not because he was running from reality. He walked away because if he stayed, if he witnessed any more, his Water Comprehension would no longer be able to hold back the anger that had grown into something close to hatred.
And hatred—even hatred for cruelty—could make a person do unwise things, things that might create even greater suffering in the long run.
Li Yuan found a quiet spot outside the city—a rock formation on the edge of the desert where he could sit in silence and try to process what he had witnessed.
But the silence brought no calm. Not this time.
In his fifteen thousand years of life, he had witnessed many cruelties. But never before had he seen dehumanization so complete, so systematic, so accepted as normal by so many people.
In the Tianshan Kingdom, cruelty was the product of an ignorant king and a corrupt system. But here? Here, cruelty was an economy. It was a way of life that involved thousands of people—merchants, buyers, guards, city officials who collected taxes from the slave trade.
How could one person change a system so vast? A system so integrated into the fabric of society?
I could destroy the market, Li Yuan mused coldly. I could unleash my Fear Comprehension or even my Anger Comprehension at full intensity. I could make every merchant, every buyer, every guard feel the suffering they caused. I could force them to face their cruelty in a way they couldn't ignore.
But then what? The market would be rebuilt. New merchants would come. The system would continue because it's supported by more than just evil individuals—it's supported by an economic structure, by laws, by a culture that has learned to not see some humans as human at all.
He closed his eyes, allowing his Water Comprehension to flow through his consciousness with an intensity he rarely needed. The water that soothes, the water that flows, the water that teaches patience and flexibility.
But even water—when dammed for too long, when the pressure becomes too great—will eventually explode with destructive force.
I need more information, he decided. I need to understand not just the market, but the entire system. Where do the slaves come from? How are they captured? Who controls the trade? Is there any resistance? Are there people within this system who are uncomfortable with the cruelty but feel powerless to change it?
He opened his eyes and stared back at Zhardar—the city that glowed with lights in the desert darkness, a city built on a foundation of suffering that was invisible to those who profited from it.
A few more days, he promised himself. I will observe for a few more days. I will understand this system completely. And then...
He didn't finish the thought, because he didn't yet know what "then" would be.
But he knew—with a cold and final certainty—that when he finally acted, that action would have consequences that would be felt far beyond the slave market in Zhardar.
Because some cruelties are so great they cannot be fixed gently.
Some systems are so corrupt they must be completely destroyed before something better can be built on their ruins.
And Li Yuan—who had walked for fifteen thousand years with seemingly infinite patience—began to feel that patience reaching its end.
The calm water was about to become a flood.
And when it did, no one would be able to stop it.