2: The red divination sticks determine one's fate; a life-or-death decision hinges on selling oneself.

Seeing that Old Uncle and the others had already decided to sell themselves into servitude, Zhou Qingfeng did not try to dissuade them.

Because right now, selling oneself truly was the only path forward; not doing so meant death.

Moreover, thinking positively, selling oneself might not necessarily be a bad thing.

At the very least, food, clothing, and safety would be guaranteed, and there would still be opportunities to buy back their freedom in the future.

But first, this immediate, formidable obstacle had to be crossed. Otherwise, there would be no 'future' to speak of.

However, even in selling oneself, one must choose carefully to whom they sell.

If one chose wrongly and ended up with a harsh, cruel master,

who might beat or kill a servant on a whim, then it would be all over, with no place even to weep.

Old Uncle and the others understood this principle, so they went off to ask around about which families offered good treatment and had good masters.

Meanwhile, Zhou Qingfeng remained standing where he was, motionless, simply closing his eyes quietly.

In his consciousness appeared a crimson divination cylinder, covered in eerie and mysterious sigils.

The cylinder was filled with five types of Spiritual Lots.

They were, respectively: Superior-Superior Lot, Superior Fortune Slip, Middle Auspicious Lot, Middle-Neutral Lot, and Lower-Lower Lot.

After a month of fleeing famine to reach this place,

whenever he encountered a major crossroads on the journey and felt hesitant or indecisive,

Zhou Qingfeng would cast a divination to inquire about fortune or misfortune, making the most correct choice at critical moments.

Because he always believed in one truth: Choice is greater than talent, and talent is greater than effort.

What is choice? Choice is standing at every fork in the road of fate.

If one could accurately choose the correct path,

then life would be smooth sailing, immensely auspicious, with all matters proceeding favorably.

Conversely, if one chose wrongly,

no matter how Heaven-Defying your talent, no matter how ten thousand-fold your effort,

you would end up going around in circles, experiencing constant ups and downs (mostly downs), with a life filled with tragedy.

"Shake the lots!" With a thought from Zhou Qingfeng, the crimson divination cylinder shook, and then three slips flew out. Each slip bore brief written descriptions.

[Lower-Lower Lot: Selling oneself to the Corpse-Driving Ma Family. Inauspicious.]

[Middle-Neutral Lot: Selling oneself to the Ghost-Taming Mao Family. Neutral.]

[Middle Auspicious Lot: Selling oneself to the City Lord's Manor. Auspicious.]

Looking at the three Spiritual Lots, Zhou Qingfeng already had a clear understanding in his mind.

If there's an auspicious option, choose it. If there's no auspicious option, then settle for the neutral one as the next best thing.

As for that Lower-Lower Lot, he absolutely would not touch it, nor would he even attempt it.

Seeking fortune and avoiding calamity—this was what he should do. There was no need to test just how inauspicious a Lower-Lower Lot could be.

Old Uncle, having discussed their options with his daughter and the hired hand Changgui, asked Zhou Qingfeng, "Little Zhou, do you want to sell yourself to the Ma Family with us? The Ma Family offers the best terms, the highest wages, and three meals a day with meat at every meal."

Upon hearing this, Zhou Qingfeng thought of the life-saving grace and assistance they had shown him at the beginning of his Transmigration, and how they had supported each other and shared hardships along the journey. In his heart, he had long regarded them as family and did not want them to step into a pit of fire.

So he spoke up to advise them, "Old Uncle, choose a different family. I've decided to sell myself to the City Lord. It's best if you come with me."

Old Uncle was puzzled, "Since we're selling ourselves into slavery, we should choose the one with the best treatment. Why change families?"

Zhou Qingfeng didn't know the specific reasons either, but the divination indicated selling to the Ma Family was a greatly inauspicious sign. Naturally, he couldn't explain the hidden details to Old Uncle and the others. After a moment's thought, he had already crafted a believable explanation.

"Old Uncle, if we are fated to be dogs, then we must be the running dogs of the most powerful person."

"The City Lord's family are the true masters of Sword Tower."

"No matter how prosperous or powerful the Ma and Mao families are, they are merely two running dogs kept by the City Lord's family."

"Could it be that we should become the running dogs of running dogs?"

Old Uncle, Changgui, and Shui'er were immediately stunned by these words. Upon careful consideration, they realized that although what Zhou Qingfeng said was harsh and grating to the ear, it contained the truth about being a running dog.

Especially Changgui, who came from a servant background. Although he didn't fully understand, he was greatly shaken.

Old Uncle said admiringly, "Qingfeng, you have a talent for being a running dog."

Zhou Qingfeng: "???"

Shui'er, pulling on Zhou Qingfeng's arm, said with admiration, "Even if Brother Qingfeng becomes a running dog, I believe he can become the best running dog. Father, let's listen to Brother Qingfeng and sell ourselves to the City Lord's family."

Old Uncle hesitated slightly but finally nodded, "I trust Qingfeng's judgment."

Having finished their discussion, the group of four got up to join the queue.

Soon, it was Zhou Qingfeng's turn in line.

Underneath a wooden shed, a steward sat steadily behind a table and chair, flanked by several robust servants holding rods. The steward, looking indifferent, held a writing brush and was making paper records: "Name, age, place of origin, literate or skilled in martial arts."

Zhou Qingfeng bowed with clasped hands and gave a faint smile, "This humble one is Zhou Qingfeng, aged 18, originally from Yumi City. Began recognizing characters at three, entered school to study at six, has some familiarity with various books, knows over three thousand characters, and has a rough grasp of basic martial arts."

Hearing this, the steward suddenly looked up, gazing at Zhou Qingfeng in surprise. He examined Zhou Qingfeng carefully from head to toe and said, "Two meals a day. Food, lodging, and work provided. Wages calculated separately."

"Agreed." Zhou Qingfeng agreed without the slightest hesitation.

Upon hearing this, the steward lowered his head, placed the completed indenture contract on the wooden table in front of Zhou Qingfeng, and then slapped a cinnabar inkpad next to the contract. "Sign your name and press your fingerprint."

Zhou Qingfeng picked up the writing brush, wrote his name, and pressed his fingerprint.

The steward lowered his head and wrote an evaluation.

This person's appearance: excellent. Physique: excellent. Knowledge: excellent.

Courteous in speech and conduct, exceptional in conversation, literate, with a rough grasp of martial arts.

With a little cultivation, he will become a pillar of talent.

After finishing the evaluation,

the steward took out a wooden plaque and tossed it to Zhou Qingfeng, giving a slight smile, "This is your identity token. Go now and wait to enter the manor to meet the City Lord. The City Lord highly values talent like yours."

"This humble one takes his leave." Zhou Qingfeng received the identity token and gave a slight bow with clasped hands.

A rod-holding servant gestured for Zhou Qingfeng to follow him.

Seeing this, Zhou Qingfeng only had time to glance at Old Uncle and the others.

Then he followed the rod-holding servant to the back to await entry into the city.

Old Uncle, Shui'er, and Changgui also successively signed indenture contracts with the City Lord's Manor. However, they were immediately led away by a group of rod-holding servants from the manor. Zhou Qingfeng was somewhat puzzled and asked the rod-holding servant beside him.

"Brother, may I ask, aren't they entering the city with us?"

The rod-holding servant smiled upon hearing this and said, "They've all been screened as lower-class servants. Once they sign the indenture contract, they'll be directly dispersed and sent down to various estates for labor. These people are not qualified to enter the city to meet the City Lord."

"Thank you for the explanation." Zhou Qingfeng's confusion was instantly resolved, and he felt somewhat more at ease. For now, the separation was only temporary. As long as they were safe and sound, there would eventually be a day when they could reunite.

The 'disaster relief' continued in an orderly manner.

The disaster victims, having received the rations for selling their sons and daughters, left Sword Tower and headed towards the boundless wilderness.

They were merely a group of refugees clinging to life, without status, mostly disabled or elderly. The best fate awaiting them was to finish their rations and die despairingly in the wilderness.

Of course, the most likely scenario was that on some night, they would die silently in the maws of demons, ghosts, or monsters.