Mo Qiaosheng was born into a slave family.
His mother was a slave, and the children of a slave could only be slaves.
It is said that when his mother was pregnant with him, she passed by a bridge and suddenly felt a falling sensation in her stomach. The mother, who had given birth many times before, found a sheltered place near the bridge pier and gave birth to him.
Therefore, he got this name, Mo Qiaosheng. Although it seemed to be chosen casually, it was already a rare good name among slaves.
For example, his brothers and sisters are named Mo Agou, Mo Tiedan, Mo Ersan, Mo Wuliu, etc. The name Mo Ersan was given to his very pretty and lovely sister.
Mo Qiaosheng doesn't know who his father is. He has many brothers and sisters, and they all belong to the same mother.
My mother was a thin and skinny woman, and her hard living environment made her look particularly old.
However, it was this woman who came back late at night every day, with scars all over her body and a fishy smell, bringing them the pitiful amount of poor quality food, and placing a kiss, a gentle kiss, on the forehead of each child.
This was the only tenderness from a woman in Mo Qiaosheng's gloomy childhood.
As the family grew larger and the mother grew older, food shortages became increasingly severe.
The young Mo Qiaosheng followed his eldest brother Mo Agou every day, hungry, to collect food everywhere.
Pick wild vegetables in the mountains and forests, and fish in the rivers.
Wandering around in the muddy market, picking up some discarded items that others occasionally leave behind.
Sometimes he was so hungry that he felt dizzy and could not move. Mo Agou would then take out a small piece of black lump that he had saved yesterday from his arms, pick off a small piece, and stuff it into Mo Qiaosheng's mouth.
He then scooped out a little more and stuffed it into the mouth of his younger sister, Mo Ersan.
Mo Qiaosheng and Mo Ersan held the small piece of biscuit in their mouths, slowly softening it with saliva, and resisted swallowing it, making themselves feel like they were eating. It seemed that they were no longer so hungry.
In the shantytown where they lived, there was a slave named Xiong Ji. He was strong, brutal, and full of brute force.
He is the most powerful man in this circle and no one dares to provoke him.
He was his mother's man, one of the men.
Recently, when he came to see his mother, he often cast his obscene gaze on Mo Qiaosheng and his sister Mo Ersan.
When those dead fish-like eyes turned to look at him, Mo Qiaosheng always felt a sick chill crawling up his cervical spine.
At this time, Mo Agou would always gently and unnoticeably push him and Mo Ersan behind him, using his still thin body to block his younger siblings.
However, no matter how they tried to hide, fate would not let these poor children go, and that horrible day still came.
Xiong Ji finally caught Mo Ersan. The girl's sharp screams did not cause any reaction from anyone in the camp.
Xiong Ji grabbed Mo Ersan's thin arm and dragged him into the tent. Mo Qiaosheng rushed forward, but was kicked away by Xiong Ji and fell several somersaults.
Mo Agou helped him up. He looked at the tent silently for a while and sighed softly: "You are still too young. Let your brother go."
Mo Qiaosheng looked at his brother blankly as he lifted the curtain of the tent and went in.
After a while, Mo Ersan, the younger sister with snot and tears all over her face, came out of the tent intact. She walked over blankly, lowered her head, and tightly grasped the corner of Mo Qiaosheng's clothes with trembling hands.
There were some strange noises coming from the tent, mixed with my brother's painful cries.
Mo Qiaosheng vaguely knew what was happening.
He was at a loss and rushed to find his mother with his sister.
However, after listening to his story, their mother just sat there silently, staring at the ground blankly without moving.
Her face, worn and worn by life, looked so helpless and lost.
For the first time, Mo Qiaosheng began to hate.
Hate your own weakness and powerlessness,
I hate my humble and lowly origins.
Hate those men who wantonly use violence to bully the weak, those cruel and perverted men!
Xiong Ji tossed and turned until midnight before coming out of the tent. He was shaking his muscles while fastening his pants. He glanced at Mo Qiaosheng who was huddled outside the tent waiting in the night, and walked away humming a tune smugly.
I don't want to be bullied by such a man, ever. Xiao Moqiao swallowed his bitter tears and thought silently in his heart.
During a hunt a few days later, Xiong Ji's horse got frightened for unknown reasons and threw him off the hillside.
When everyone found him, they discovered that his head and face had been smashed to pieces by someone with rocks. He was dead beyond death.
Death was a common occurrence for slaves, and after everyone divided up his horses, weapons, and clothing, no one mentioned the matter again.
The owner simply made a mark on the register to indicate that a tiny portion of his property was missing.
That night, Mo Qiaosheng, covered in wounds, returned home very late.
When his mother saw his clothes, which were torn and stained with blood after being cut by straw, she said nothing, but sighed silently, touched his face, asked him to take off his clothes, and sewed them for him under the lamp.
Little Mo Qiaosheng knelt beside his mother, looking at her face softened by the light, and slowly calmed down the panic of killing someone for the first time in his life.
He even had the illusion that this peace could last forever.
However, as he grew up, he was soon bought by his first owner.
The host's surname was Wu and his name was Xueli. He had a white face and a long beard. He was a teacher who ran a school and enrolled several elementary school students, teaching them how to read, write and write.
Wu Xueli usually behaved in a gentlemanly manner and rarely beat or scolded his slaves.
The slaves in his family had clothes to cover their bodies and rarely went hungry.
For Mo Qiaosheng, this is a kind of affluent life that he has never experienced since childhood.
He cherishes this kind of life very much.
Every time his master gave him an order, the little boy would complete it with the most rigorous and serious attitude, not daring to slack off or be lazy at all.
Sometimes when his master was teaching students, he would serve beside him, and he would prick up his ears, carefully memorizing every word and sentence his master said.
When it was late at night and everyone was asleep, after finishing a busy day's work, he would pick up a small branch and write and draw on the sand, practicing bit by bit the words he had heard and seen during the day.
Gradually, Wu Xueli discovered that this little slave was different: he was diligent, eager to learn, and absorbed things quickly.
The most important thing is that no matter how big or small the tasks assigned to him are, they are all completed in an orderly manner and without any mistakes.
Wu Xueli assigned him to work by his side, and gradually let him take care of his study. Occasionally, when he was in the mood, he would teach him a few words.
After all, having a literate slave as a servant was a symbol of a wealthy family, and it was also prestigious to take the slave out to meet friends.
During that time, Mo Qiaosheng was full of admiration and gratitude towards his master.
He was allowed to stay in the study at night so that he could serve his master at any time.
So he had the opportunity to secretly read those wonderful books every night.
These books made him realize that outside the narrow sky above his head, there was a vast world.
He studied eagerly, and what particularly attracted him was the knowledge of military tactics. Although many parts were obscure and difficult to understand at his age, he repeatedly pondered and memorized them in his heart.
He didn't dare ask his master, but once his master mentioned a little bit when teaching the students, he could not help but become excited and absorbed it like a sponge.
As a young boy, he did not understand that his overly desperate performance not only attracted the attention of his master, but also attracted the jealousy of countless people who lived in humble circumstances like him.
One day, Mo Qiaosheng was tricked out of his study by an acquaintance. When he returned, his master's most cherished and beloved purple-robed Duan inkstone with gold and silver star patterns had fallen to the floor and cracked.
Wu Xueli was furious. No matter how Mo Qiaosheng crawled on the ground to explain, Wu Xueli refused to believe it.
The slaves standing around looked at him coldly as he knelt on the ground in fear and panic. No one came out to defend him or to testify against him.
Wu Xueli took off his pants, beat him in public, and sold him to the most filthy and lowly Chu Huai Guan as a slave.
Fortunately, Mo Qiaosheng's facial features were too three-dimensional, and his frame was too broad, so he did not have the feminine and beautiful boyish feeling that the nobles liked to play with the most. So despite his strong resistance, he was not immediately forced to serve customers, but was assigned to serve a popular young man personally.
The young man's name was Luxiu. He was a handsome boy with skin as white as snow.
He always liked to wear a turquoise robe, put on makeup and lean on the guests, being delicate and attentive to the nobles.
However, as soon as the guests left, he would often become very angry and either beat or scold Mo Qiaosheng.
As long as he didn't have to serve those disgusting and perverted guests, Mo Qiaosheng felt that he could tolerate the days of being beaten and scolded.
But this kind of life did not last for a few days.
This time, a guest dressed in luxurious clothes left satisfied, but Green Sleeves did not come out for a long time.
Mo Qiaosheng carried water in and saw a scene that he would never forget in his life.
Green Sleeves' snow-white skin was covered with all kinds of horrible scars, and she had long lost any signs of life.
His favorite turquoise robe was tattered and stained with blood, revealing its original color.
A gold ingot lay quietly on the floor, which was the price of the young man's life.
The owner of Chuhuai Pavilion picked up the gold happily, waved his hand, and ordered Mo Qiaosheng to clean the room.
Mo Qiaosheng was vomiting while lying on the ground, wiping away the blood that seemed to be so much that it would never be washed away.
Chu Huai Guan employs a team of professional thugs who are responsible for handling any incidents within the brothel that require violent resolution.
The leader Dong Sandao recently discovered a girl who was bound to become a slave of a young prostitute sooner or later and was always pestering him.
This young slave was very cruel. He was cruel to others and to himself.
Dong Sandao liked his ruthlessness and accepted him.
Of course, Dong Sandao is not a kind-hearted man. In such an environment where survival is difficult, who can have extra kindness to share with a slave child
He honed Mo Qiaosheng like he was forging a weapon.
This skinny boy gritted his teeth like a wild wolf and slowly grew up in those daunting and terrifying trainings, becoming a sharp knife.
Hua Yu, the Marquis of Weibei, came to Chu Huai Pavilion to have fun and saw Mo Qiaosheng by chance. So he took out two ingots of silver and took the sharp blade into his army, becoming a warrior under his command.