Chapter 84: The Wretched Kiln

"Is there any significance to June 18th?" Fang Lan was utterly confused.

Qin Zhen replied with a hint of mystery. "You'll understand when the time comes."

After a brief discussion about the transport arrangements, Fang Lan hurriedly took his leave.

Qin Zhen, meanwhile, returned to the inn with his companions.

"Zhao Ming, I need you to run an errand." Qin Zhen explained the collaboration Fang Lan had proposed to the others, then penned a letter, sealed it, and handed it to Zhao Ming. "In a while, take a few men, accompany the Fang family back to Little Fishing Village, and deliver this letter to Liu Juan. She'll know what to do."

"Will do!" Zhao Ming immediately picked a team, gathered enough food and water, and prepared to set off.

"Wait—take the crossbows," Qin Zhen reminded him. "There are plenty of bandits in the forests. It's always better to be cautious."

They had fought with Wild Panther from Mount Mao'er before, and Qin Zhen had heard the man was narrow-minded. With Scar Brother's affair as well, he worried those bandits might seek revenge.

This would also be a good opportunity to gauge the Fang family's capabilities.

After all, the importance of logistics spoke for itself. If the Fang family couldn't even ensure safe passage, constantly suffering attacks from bandits, then any cooperation would need to be reconsidered.

"Zhen, your poetry was truly exquisite. You should've seen the young ladies! They wept so much, and I overheard quite a few calling you the most passionate soul in the south!" Li Han gave Qin Zhen a hearty thumbs-up.

They'd all grown up in the same village—why couldn't he be as eloquent?

"Enough chatter. We've more pressing matters," Qin Zhen said, turning to Chen Shu.

"Uncle Chen, do you know where in this city one can buy people?"

"You mean the work pits?" Chen Shu hesitated. "I've never been to Coastal City before. Wait here—I’ll go ask around."

The buying and selling of people was commonplace in this world.

To speak of the work pits, one had first to explain the social hierarchy of this land.

Put simply, it was the Scholar, Farmer, Artisan, and Merchant order.

Citizens with registered household status were considered normal people, afforded basic human rights, and protected by local authorities—they could live as upright individuals.

But those who lost their registration slipped from normal status, becoming slaves, a class lower than low.

The reasons for losing household registration were many. Perhaps a distant relative committed a crime and implicated you. Or perhaps you fled famine, lost your credentials in a strange land, and, unable to present proof, risked being killed as a bandit or, at best, sold as an unregistered person into the work pits.

And so it went.

Of course, most ended up in that fate due to human traffickers, or because life left them with no other option but to submit themselves as slaves.

The work pits became the final refuge—or the burial ground—for those with nowhere else to turn.

"Zhen, why buy people?" Li Han asked, baffled. "Don’t we already have dozens with us? Why buy those wretched slaves?"

In his mind, the work pits housed only captured bandits or half-dead refugees—scrawny, starved, mindless, hollow-eyed, complete burdens with no known origins.

What was the point of buying them?

"We’re short-handed," Qin Zhen answered quietly.

What he planned next would require many, many hands.

"Short-handed? Aren’t dozens of us enough? What are you planning?" Li Han was still confused.

Just then, Chen Shu hurried in. "I found out—there's a work pit just five or six streets away, and it's packed with people. Many prominent households pick their servants there."

Qin Zhen waved his hand and led the group toward the work pit.

"Prime Linzhou girls, going cheap!"

"Strong laborers, slaves and beasts—come have a look, sirs!"

"Clean young eunuchs, fresh from the palace—gentlemen with a taste for boys, don't miss out!"

From afar, they saw a filthy street, utterly at odds with the vibrant city, like a streak of shadow hidden beneath the sun.

Arrogant human traffickers hawked their wares openly. Emaciated, ragged slaves curled in corners, reduced to mere goods for selection.

A few still glanced around hopefully, dreaming of rescue, but most had long since surrendered to despair. Their dull, lifeless eyes chilled the heart.

Here, they were slaves, and even if bought, they would remain so.

For them, there was no hope—only the exchange of one hell for another.

The moment they were branded as slaves, their former identities ceased to matter; they were no longer human, but commodities to be trampled.

"Well, you look unfamiliar, sir. This your first time here?" A shrewd-looking middle-aged man approached, hands rubbing together, a mouthful of yellow teeth bared in a forced smile.

"And how should I address you, young man?"

"Qin," Qin Zhen replied without expression.

"Master Qin!" The man grinned even wider. "Call me Scarface. I'm the manager here. Old or young, male or female, sound or marked—I've got them all. What sort of goods are you looking for, Master Qin?"

Being called 'Master' by a greasy man in his forties struck Qin Zhen as somewhat absurd.

"Scarface? But you don’t have any scars," Li Han blurted out.

"Does a man named Pockmark Zhang have to have pockmarks?" Scarface retorted.

"How many do you have with all their limbs intact?" Qin Zhen asked directly.

Scarface paused, scrutinizing the youth as if weighing the implications of his words.

After a moment's silence, he ventured, "May I ask what purpose you need so many for, Master Qin?"

Before Qin Zhen could answer, Chen Shu snapped, "Do you not know the rules? Buyers don’t ask about the goods' past, sellers don’t ask the buyers' purpose. As manager, you should know that! Just answer—how many do you have? If you’re willing to sell, say so. If not, get out of the way!"

"My apologies, sir! My mistake," Scarface replied, eyeing Chen Shu intently. The iron-blooded menace in his gaze was something he’d only seen in hardened killers who’d survived battlefields.

Such a ruthless man, serving as a mere retainer to this young Master Qin? This youth’s status must be extraordinary indeed!

Realizing this, Scarface dared not delay. "Goods? Of course we have them! But I must ask what kind you need, right? In this alley alone, I've got several thousand with all their limbs. Surely you won’t take them all, Master Qin?"

Chen Shu fell silent.

Qin Zhen considered for a moment. "I need obedient, honest ones. Fifty men and fifty women, the younger the better." He paused, then added, "I'm opening a business in a few days and need hands to run it."

"So you need shop assistants and maids!" Scarface relaxed. He’d feared Qin Zhen was after death-servants for some grand scheme. As for these, his pit had more than enough.

"No sick or filthy ones," Chen Shu said coldly. "No one with facial brands, either. Only the cleanest."