Zhang Min opened his eyes and saw wooden beams above him, covered in cobwebs. In the shabby barrack, they served as the ceiling, and beyond them he could see the underside of the roof. The night before, during his punishment of ten strikes, he had lost consciousness and feared he might never wake again, or worse, wake up strapped to a torture table. Luckily, his worst fears hadn’t come true. He was alive, though his whole body felt battered, as if he’d been dragged across the ground behind a horse. Zhang Min let out a noisy sigh.

  “Oh! You’re awake!” Lin Bo exclaimed with genuine relief, sitting nearby with a damp rag in hand. “You didn’t let them bully you, sure, but you went against the seniors. You can’t do that!”

  Seniors? Don’t make me laugh, Zhang Min would’ve rolled his eyes if his face weren’t so swollen. Respect them just because they’ve loitered in the woods longer than I have? What an achievement. Now they know what happens when they try to steal from me.

  “I don’t even understand why I was punished,” he muttered aloud. “I just took back my sword.”

  “Yeah, we know,” Lin Bo waved dismissively, as if the reason didn’t matter much. “My brother and I took care of you,” he added, showing the rag with bloodstains. “But we don’t have any medicine.”

  “Thank you, Brother Bo. I won’t forget this favor,” Zhang Min replied.

  “Ah, nonsense, nonsense,” Lin Bo grinned, though his face betrayed a satisfied smile.

  “Do you know what’ll happen to me now? What are people saying?”

  “You’ve already been punished. It’s fine now. The guys say one of the newcomers always gets it, so the rest know their place. Thanks to you, we won’t get beaten. From now on, don’t worry about dishes or laundry!” He thumped his chest proudly. “We’ll do all that for you!”

  Yeah, sure… you can all go to hell, Zhang Min cursed inwardly but said aloud, “Thanks.”

  Everything hurt, from his toes to the top of his head, and his swollen face had become a stiff mask. Clenching his teeth to keep from groaning, he lifted himself on one elbow, then sat up. Even that simple movement took a great deal of effort, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Taking a deep breath, he accepted Lin Bo’s help and slowly stood. His head buzzed; the barrack swayed like the deck of a ship, and it took him a moment before he could take a step.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Ten strikes with a stick! he recalled bitterly. I thought it would be symbolic, but they tied me to a bench and laid into me with clubs. Bastards! And right after the fight, too!

  “Is it dinnertime?” he asked, catching the smell of food and smoke from outside.

  “Breakfast,” Lin Bo replied.

  “Only one night passed? Great.”

  “Yeah. You’re a tough one. I’m surprised you can even stand.”

  “It’s all training! Heh-heh— ow… ugh… let’s go eat.”

  Outside the barrack, two large pots of rice boiled over a crude stone stove, while a chubby bandit stirred the food with a long-handled ladle. Next to him, a table held stacks of wooden bowls and a sack of hard flatbread. When the rice was ready, the cook began filling bowls and setting them out; the bandits came one by one to collect them.

  “Ha-ha-ha! You look like a panda!” they laughed as the newcomer stepped out of the barrack.

  Ignoring their mockery, Zhang Min took an empty bowl from the table and limped to the well to wash it, as he did before every meal. He would’ve gladly kept a separate bowl for himself, but didn’t want to draw more attention. Yesterday’s spectacle had already made him too noticeable. If, on top of that, he walked around with his own bowl, he’d lose any chance of becoming “one of them.”

  “Maybe you should find a healer?” suggested Lao Yu, hiccuping.

  “There’s a healer here?”

  “In the middle of the forest? I dunno, haven’t seen one, but you can ask around,” the shaggy bandit said, completely unfazed.

  “Sure,” Zhang Min nodded, though he had no intention of searching for one.

  After breakfast, he went with four other former peasants to the pigpens. He had no desire to lie around the barrack among the bandits after yesterday’s fight. Only in a perfect world would such an incident have no consequences, and he didn’t care to find out what ideas the barrack’s inhabitants might get. At least until he recovered, he preferred to stay far from them.

  Limping, Zhang Min hobbled down the road. On one side, Xiao Bai supported him; on the other, Lin Bin walked with a sullen look. Clearly, he didn’t approve of Zhang Min’s behavior yesterday, it could bring trouble on all of them.

  “You should’ve just endured it,” Lin Bin muttered. “We’re still newcomers.”

  “I’ve endured enough,” Zhang Min answered coldly, “but there are limits.”

  “One day, you’ll die because of your pride.”

  “Hey!” Lin Bo smacked his brother on the back. “Don’t curse him! Apologize.”

  “…Sorry,” Lin Bin murmured quietly.

  They’re scared, Zhang Min noted inwardly. All of them, except Xiao Bai. That kid’s almost too excited about all this.

  “Take a break. We’ll handle it,” Lin Bo patted him on the shoulder when they reached the pigpens.

  “Mm,” Zhang Min nodded.

  Finding a quiet spot, he felt along his arms and legs, checked his ribs, and made sure nothing was broken. Satisfied, he sat beneath a tree and began to meditate. Soon a wave of warmth rolled through his body, bringing relief. It pulsed with his heartbeat, coursing through his veins toward the bruises, as if knowing exactly where it was needed. The pleasant, ticklish sensation sent goosebumps across his skin and drew an involuntary smile from him. After a few hours of meditation, Zhang Min stood up, rolled his shoulders, and flexed his legs.

  “Much better! At this rate, I’ll be fully recovered in about ten days. Until then, I should keep my head down and stay away from the barrack. Guess I’ll live with the pigs for a while,” Zhang Min mused aloud.