Ma Jingguo spent most of the day outside, his presence a silent, watchful shadow. The morning's attack had left him on edge, and he guarded Mu Dishi with the fierce vigilance of a shepherd protecting his flock. The day, however, passed without incident.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, Mu Dishi walked outside to call Ma Jingguo in. He approached the courtyard gate, where Ma Jingguo was pretending to work on the flower beds, when his gaze fell upon two figures walking down the road. Two disciples of the Tianshan Sect.
They stopped directly in front of the gate. "Shushu, this is a letter from our new leader," the older disciple said, his voice flat as he held out a sealed envelope.
Mu Dishi took the letter. After delivering it, the two young disciples turned and left without another word, their departure as sudden as their arrival.
Mu Dishi opened the envelope, his eyes scanning the letter's contents. He carefully folded the paper and slipped it back inside. "We don't have to rush to Tianshan after all," he said, the tension in his shoulders easing.
"Why not?" Ma Jingguo asked, a note of surprise in his voice.
"Leader Fu says that due to the weather, the celebration has been moved to spring," Mu Dishi replied.
Ma Jingguo's expression shifted to one of practical concern. "Xiao shushu, do we have enough money to last us until then?"
Mu Dishi simply gave him a reassuring nod.
That night, Mu Dishi drifted into a dream. He was in bed, staring at Ma Jingguo's sleeping face, when a passing shadow at the window drew his attention. A cold dread settled in his stomach as he remembered Ma Jingguo was too heavily medicated from his wound to wake up. He moved quickly, walking out of the house into the cool night air.
Standing near the front door was a tall, imposing man. Mu Dishi's footsteps were silent as he approached. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling slightly despite himself.
The man slowly turned. Mu Dishi's eyes went wide, and his breath hitched. The face was impossibly familiar: it was Wang Biming. "No... it can't be," he whispered, a tremor running through him.
The young, handsome Wang Biming smiled. "Dishi," he said, his voice as warm and familiar as Mu Dishi remembered, "I'm back now."
Mu Dishi walked to Wang Biming and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Tears welled in his eyes, hot and fast. He knew that no matter how strong he was, only in front of Wang Biming could he finally let his grief go and cry freely. He held on as tightly as he could, as if a loose grip would make Wang Biming disappear again.
"How did you come back?" Mu Dishi whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "How is this possible?"
Wang Biming smiled, a gentle, knowing look on his face. "Didn't you tell someone that no matter how many tears you shed over the years, those who have passed will never return?" He lowered his head and kissed Mu Dishi's forehead. "Well, here I am."
Wang Biming then leaned down, his eyes on Mu Dishi's lips. But just as he was about to kiss him, Mu Dishi took an instinctive step back, a sudden, inexplicable feeling of resistance running through him.
"Why?" Wang Biming asked, his smile fading slightly.
"Jingguo is still sleeping," Mu Dishi whispered, his eyes darting back toward the window.
Wang Biming simply smiled, a handsome, knowing expression on his face. "Then let him sleep. He won't hear us." He leaned in close. "Let me make love to you."
He began to undress Mu Dishi, his lips finding Mu Dishi's neck as he gently removed his outer robe. Mu Dishi's mind was a blur; he hadn't even registered that his upper body was now naked to the cool night air. When Wang Biming's hand reached his belt, however, Mu Dishi found his strength and stopped him.
"Biming... I..." Mu Dishi started, his voice a ragged breath.
Wang Biming's smile faltered. "We've done this before, Dishi."
"I know," Mu Dishi said, his hands shaking as he held Wang Biming's hand. "But I can't. It's different."
"It's not different," Wang Biming countered, his voice a warm caress. "I am still your Biming. You are still my Dishi."
"Biming," Mu Dishi said, his voice quiet but firm. "I don't think this is right anymore."
"Why?" Wang Biming asked, a hint of confusion in his tone.
"Because I truly love him," Mu Dishi answered, the words a difficult admission.
Wang Biming's face fell. "And what about me? What about our love?"
"I'm sorry," Mu Dishi replied, his gaze dropping. "You are my past. He is my future."
Slowly, Mu Dishi turned away from him.
"Dishi," Wang Biming said, his voice taking on a new, desperate edge. "If you walk away now, you will never have this chance again."
"He said he would love me a hundred times more than you," Mu Dishi said, his gaze fixed on Wang Biming. "And he kept his promise. He truly loves me a hundred times more than you did." Mu Dishi's lips curved into a sad, gentle smile. "In this life, I will only love him. I'll never love anyone else… not even you."
Wang Biming's composure shattered. He grabbed Mu Dishi's arms, yanking him around to face him. His eyes burned with rage. "But I was your first!" he snarled.
Mu Dishi struggled to pull away. "That doesn't matter," he insisted, his voice strained.
Wang Biming's eyes were now a furious red. "Then let us die together!" he roared, his hands moving to Mu Dishi's throat, his grip tightening with lethal force.
Mu Dishi's breath hitched, his lungs burning as he fought to pull in air. He tried to summon his inner strength, but found it useless. The pressure around his throat tightened further. Then, he opened his eyes.
He wasn't suffocating. He was safe, warm in Ma Jingguo's arms. He could feel Ma Jingguo's soft, steady breaths against his forehead and see his handsome face in the faint moonlight. A long, shuddering sigh of relief escaped him.
He stared at Ma Jingguo, the dream feeling terrifyingly real. Even in the middle of winter, a cold sweat had broken out on his forehead. The reason for the nightmare was suddenly, crystal clear. He had been wrestling with doubt, questioning if his feelings for Ma Jingguo were genuine love or just a desperate need for companionship. The two dead crows had deeply unsettled him, forcing him to confront what he truly felt.
In that moment, he had his answer. He truly loved Ma Jingguo. Even with Wang Biming, the ghost of his past, appearing before him, his heart's deepest affection remained with the man holding him. His love for Ma Jingguo was unshakeable.
Mu Dishi was a man of absolutes. He gave his love completely, just as he held onto his hatred. The confession he made to Ma Jingguo the previous night—that he shouldn't mourn for him—came from a place of deep-seated doubt.
He was significantly older than Ma Jingguo and wasn't the only one who loved him. It simply happened that Ma Jingguo chose him. This thought haunted him. Was he chosen out of genuine love, or was it just by chance? He was also a man, a detail that meant Ma Jingguo could never openly declare his love to the world.
A lingering sense of guilt remained, especially regarding Kuo Changchang. Mu Dishi felt that if Ma Jingguo had not chosen him, Ma Jingguo would be living a happier, more open life with Kuo Changchang, fully supported by Kuo Jinsong. He knew he should have been harsher on himself and simply walked away. But his love for Ma Jingguo was too great to ever let him go.
In that moment, Mu Dishi finally understood the full truth of what Mu Jiaolong had told him in the cave. Mu Jiaolong had been right about one thing: he hadn't yet found his special person. But now, he had. He had found someone who was willing to do anything for him, and for whom he was willing to do the same.
A soft chuckle from Ma Jingguo stirred him from his thoughts. Mu Dishi lifted his head. "Jingguo, what's so funny in your sleep?"
Ma Jingguo, his eyes still closed, smiled. "Xiao shushu, I dreamt we cursed the Yangtze River together."
A gentle smile spread across Mu Dishi's face. "Jingguo," he said, a new purpose in his voice, "after Leader Fu's celebration, let's go to Jiangnan. We can rent a boat and explore the Yangtze River just for us."
"Why so sudden?" Ma Jingguo murmured, pulling Mu Dishi a little closer. "This is the first I've heard of it."
"Because even in your sleep, you still seemed to want me to go to Jiangnan with you," Mu Dishi said, his voice warm.
Ma Jingguo's smile grew, his eyes sparkling. "Xiao shushu, have I ever told you that I really, really like you?"
"You have," Mu Dishi said, his gaze unwavering. "And I really, really like you too."
Ma Jingguo froze. He sat up in a single, sudden motion, his eyes searching Mu Dishi's face. "What was that?" he whispered, his voice a mixture of shock and joy.
Mu Dishi met his gaze, a quiet amusement in his eyes. "You heard me," he said. "Don't pretend you didn't."
"Please," Ma Jingguo pleaded, a hopeful desperation in his voice. He leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on Mu Dishi. "Say it again. This time, I'll widen my eardrums and listen carefully. Please..."
Mu Dishi's lips twitched into a gentle smile, though his voice was deliberately flat. "Fine." He looked at Ma Jingguo's eager, puppy-like expression before repeating the words. "I really like you, too."
Ma Jingguo's face softened completely. He lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to Mu Dishi's forehead. "Thank you," he murmured. "Let's go to Jiangnan this spring, after Leader Fu's celebration. But you have to promise me one thing."
"What is it?" Mu Dishi asked, his curiosity piqued.
Ma Jingguo's smile turned playful. "Don't stab me this time," he teased. "I don't want to go to Jiangnan alone anymore."
Suddenly, a wave of anger and shame washed over Mu Dishi. He immediately turned away from Ma Jingguo, facing the wall.
Ma Jingguo let out a happy, self-satisfied chuckle, pulling Mu Dishi into an even tighter hug. He then frowned, his tone shifting to one of playful resignation. "Um... it's going to be a long winter."