The State of Shou was a backwater nation in the eastern land. The food was scarce, and the water was far from clean. Here, people struggled to survive and were deemed lucky if they could see the dawn of next day without a hole in their stomach – without blood gushing out so to say. And neither did the River demons of nearby water sources ease the suffering of men; they sent more petty lives to the castle of fate than what old poverty ever did, and that went without question, and doubt.

This November month was bright and cold. Frost grew on top trees’ crust and the dark soil beneath hardened. Not did this aid the people, Oh no, this made but trouble for them. To scoop up edible plants from the hard earth became almost impossible. And the water was mostly frozen, barely cracking from a man's boot. However, this was the one time of the year when River demons were in deep slumber. Perhaps this was why the Shou people yearned for this bitter winter time despite its flaws.

Like other tales of great heroics, this one starts with a bang.

In one of these villages, a child lay gently in a bamboo bed. This boy’s name was Juan Xi, and he was nine years old. His black hair was pinched with dirt and horse-dung, and his body was malnourished and feeble. 

Is this not the definition of a hero? Or, perhaps one in disguise? 

As the night grew quieter and darker, the little boy, Juan Xi, suddenly let out a muffled sound as he felt a pair of hands grip his throat. He opened his eyes in reflex.

M-mother?! 

His mother was bent over him, like a beast; her cracked, dry lips curved in a frenzied grin. Those once bright eyes of hers beamed with insanity.

“Die,” she whispered softly. “Die, bastard child!”

Her grip tightened. He let out another muffled sound. His lungs were burning, almost throbbing, and tears became evident on his face.

Were the tears hers, or were they his?

The little boy grabbed hold of his mother's clothes, trying his best to topple her. He sought not to die yet, his life had barely started. 

However, no matter the force exerted, the woman's hands did not budge an inch.

"*Thud *Thud *Thud*..."

Why, mother, why? His heart bled from sorrow. Why…

The floorboards beneath creaked while the bed itself duly sang in rhythm. She slammed his head repeatedly into the bed. Crimson poured onto the white sheets, staining them with a fresh red.

Is this the end? Is this what death feels like?

"Thud!"

One last beating followed a long silence. The little boy's full pupils trembled no more, his flame of life extinguished for good; only a broken shell without soul remained.

Dead.

He had not been given much choice in life. To serve and to obey, and to be beaten black and purple every day, that was his daily life. One could say he had been freed; released from the sorry reality his mother had brought him for years. Yes, he was finally free.

However, destiny’s wheels hadn’t stopped spinning yet.

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The little boy blinked. White. Everything was white.

His eyes were slowly adjusted. Blue. Black. Yellow. 

The world before him was incredible. He stood in a valley of ice and snow; a dark-tinted castle with pointy towers in front of him. This supreme existence stretched into the sky, higher than the clouds filled with lightning-vortexes. Snow-tipped mountains surrounded the valley, proudly, as if they were the uncrossable walls of their castle.

This…? Juan Xi was shocked. And scared too. He bent his fingers, shaking from top to toe.

"Did I actually die? Where am I, and why did mother kill me?" Countless of questions swirled inside his mind. "Is this the afterlife? What will happen to me?"

Juan Xi found himself line. Things he had feared as mere myths were seen all around him. 

Monsters–

Standing in front of him was green, skinny creature– Four eyes, four legs, four arms, like a goblin from the tales of old, only double the arms, legs, and eyes.

Behind him was an even more frightening beast. Three meters tall it was, dull gray skin and wild eyes; just like a wolf, except it stood and walked on two legs like a human. And it had wings as well, and a glowing, crimson horn that protruded from its forehead.

Was he afraid? Of course.

Did he want to cry? Not at all. 

His heart had bled plenty already. It deserved a laugh; how much of a joke that was. He did not fear what was about to come. The life he had gone through and the fact that had kept going until the end was proof of his perseverance.

So what? Death... is scary?

Compared to those bloodshot eyes his mother wore when she strangled him, death seemed to be a paradise.

He tried to walk forward, but couldn't. An invisible force made him unable to move his body. Seconds later he felt strung up like a doll as this power puppeteered him along the line, along with all the millions upon millions of beasts and humans and monsters.

Cold and bitter winds pulled and plucked his tattered clothes. They fiercely bit his skin to the point of goosebumps.

Everyone moved forward in a steady rhythm. Juan Xi’s eyes were dull as if they were dead. Pain spread across his entire body as his limbs froze and his lips turned purple. This was torture, yet he had been through worse.

He knew not of the time, but finally, as an eternity seemed to have passed, he was shoved into the castle, through a hall bigger than what he had ever seen before. 

Ghastly candles lit up this dark room. They were like fingers of dead men, stretching up from the ground in an attempt to reach the light where there was none to be found, their flickering motions creating demonic shadows that danced along the ancient walls of the hall.

Thick waves of hot pleasure caused his body to warm up and he regained feeling in his limbs as they unfroze themselves. His lips changed from purple to pink-red. The line gradually diminished, and the counted numbers that were ahead of him dwelled down to zero.

“Juan Xi. Qing Sheng Village. Killed by your mother at the age of nine, strangled. Father died years ago when defending the borders of the Qing Sheng village from the onslaught of the native river demons. His sacrifice saved a lot of people. From an early age to now, you have…” the humanoid bull with glasses recounted indifferently, glancing in the massive, red-envelope book inside his large hooves.

The black bull was quiet as it continued to read in the book. It sat behind a desk, occasionally taking a look at Juan Xi, sizing him up. A two-handed axe placed on top of the desk gave off a fear-inspiring presence. Juan Xi concluded that this axe would show not mercy, but ruthlessness if he as much as talked back.

He gulped. What will happen to me?

“I dare to say your luck in life is the worst I’ve seen in a while!" the creature said. Its voice was dark and rough and loud. "But now you are dead, and well, I don’t know if this is a lucky break for you or not, but I just remembered that I was looking for a newly departed soul to replace the keeper of steeds’ disciple who was slain earlier today. From what it seems, you perfectly fit the criteria of being a boy under than ten years old.”

Juan Xi stared blankly.

"The look in your eyes tells me you won’t respond no matter what I say.” It chuckled and slammed the book closed. “Sorry for you, I’ve already made my choice. Don’t get yourself killed too quickly and watch out for the liquor god’s rooster, he’s quite the feisty one!

The black bull flashed its sleeves, and Juan Xi’s body convulsed shortly after. He instantly vanished from the hall as if he was never there. Then, without suspense or waiting, the creature opened the heavy book again. “Next!”