The next morning, Mu Dishi and Ma Jingguo crept into the kitchen, their shoulders tensed, braced for a gruesome sight. Instead of a massacre, they found an eerie silence. The floor was spotless, not a drop of blood or a single body in sight. A cold dread seeped into Mu Dishi's bones as he noticed a small, folded note pinned to a splintered support beam with a gleaming knife.
"I need these bodies as test subjects," Ma Jingguo read aloud, his voice flat with disbelief.
A shiver of recognition went through Mu Dishi. "It must be Miss Miao," he whispered, his eyes wide.
Ma Jingguo's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Xiao shushu," he teased, his gaze softening. "You finally learned how to address someone nicely."
Mu Dishi met his gaze, a hint of defiance in his voice. "I'm kind to those who are kind to me."
Ma Jingguo's playful smile widened. "Oh, Xiao shushu, I'm the kindest person you know! How is it you're not kind to me?"
"If I wasn't kind to you," Mu Dishi retorted, "do you think I'd be standing here right now?"
Ma Jingguo's gaze shifted to the wreckage of the kitchen. A heavy sigh escaped him. "Who am I going to get to fix this mess?"
Mu Dishi gave him a reassuring look. "Don't worry about it. Just focus on healing."
A spark of determination lit up Ma Jingguo's eyes. "I'll rest for a couple of days, then head into town to hire some help."
Mu Dishi simply offered a soft smile and a gentle nod.
But Ma Jingguo didn't wait. He left that same morning, leaving Mu Dishi behind as he walked into town. He returned just as the sun began to set, followed by a small crew. By the time darkness fully settled, the simple kitchen had been completely rebuilt.
Snow fell all night, blanketing the world in silence. The next morning, a soft, ethereal light filled the kitchen. Ma Jingguo was already cooking, but Mu Dishi's attention was caught by a lone crow hovering just outside the window. A familiar unease settled in his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was a harbinger of something vile—perhaps some of Miao Mingzhu's unfinished business.
He walked out, heading toward the bird. As he drew closer, the crow abruptly took flight, only to land on a nearby fence post, as if waiting. That's when he saw it: another crow, lying in the pristine snow, barely breathing. Mu Dishi's gaze lingered for a moment, his mind racing, before he slowly took a step back. The first crow immediately swooped down to its partner.
Mu Dishi stood mesmerized as the crow gently stroked the dying one's head with its beak, a soft, mournful caw echoing in the still air. It nuzzled its neck, a desperate, tender gesture. The injured crow was clearly on the verge of death, yet it refused to close its eyes, its gaze locked on its grieving companion.
A few minutes passed without Mu Dishi returning, so Ma Jingguo walked to the open window. He saw Mu Dishi standing motionless in the snow, his gaze fixed on something on the ground. A sense of curiosity, and a hint of concern, tugged at him. He set the steaming dish he'd just finished cooking onto the table and went outside.
The moment he was close enough, he wrapped a comforting arm around Mu Dishi's waist, pulling him back against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to his back, a silent question of affection. "Xiao shushu, what has you so captivated?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
Mu Dishi's voice was a low whisper. "A dying crow."
"A dying crow?" Ma Jingguo murmured in return, leaning over Mu Dishi's shoulder to peer at the snow.
He watched as a second crow circled its fallen companion, its mournful cries—kraa... kraa... kraa...—echoing the tragedy in the air. Each time it completed a circuit, it would return to gently nuzzle its beak against the other's neck. A wave of profound emotion washed over Ma Jingguo, and he instinctively pulled Mu Dishi into a tighter embrace.
A quiet thought settled deep in his heart. He realized that from the moment they had entered that cave together until his final breath, he wanted to be just like that dying crow. He wanted to breathe his last in Mu Dishi's arms, and he wanted the very last image seared into his memory to be the sight of Mu Dishi's face.
Ma Jingguo leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to Mu Dishi's back. "Xiao shushu, let's go eat. There's nothing we can do here. He'll leave once his partner is gone."
Mu Dishi turned his head slightly. "How do you know he will leave?"
Ma Jingguo gave a small, weary sigh. "I don't know." He gently took Mu Dishi's hand and led him back toward the warmth of the kitchen.
Later that night, as they lay in bed, the mournful cries of the crow drifted through the window, growing softer and softer until they were barely a whisper.
Ma Jingguo held Mu Dishi tightly in his arms, stroking his hair. "Xiao shushu, don't think so much," he murmured, his voice thick with concern.
Mu Dishi remained still for a moment, then spoke, his voice thin in the darkness. "Jingguo, if I die... you don't have to mourn for me."
Ma Jingguo's voice was strained, a tight whisper. "Xiao shushu, don't say that."
"Actually," Mu Dishi continued, his own voice steady, "if we ever faced the same situation as those crows and I was seriously injured... you must escape."
"I would never do that," Ma Jingguo replied, his voice firm, his grip on Mu Dishi tightening. "I live and die with you."
"That's not what I want," Mu Dishi insisted.
Ma Jingguo gently lifted Mu Dishi's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Then what do you want?" he asked, his eyes searching.
A long, weary sigh left Mu Dishi's lips, filled with a lifetime of pain. "I've spent my life mourning the dead. No matter how many tears I shed, they never come back. I don't want that for you. I want you to be happy. After I'm gone, go find someone who loves you and keep on living." He finally met Ma Jingguo's gaze, a profound sadness in his eyes. "If I'm not here, there will be many people willing to lie beside you."
Ma Jingguo let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Xiao shushu, maybe there are many people who are willing to lie beside me, but I don't want to lie beside any of them." He bent his head, placing a gentle kiss on Mu Dishi's forehead. "I will never leave you, unless I die." He broke into a low chuckle, his gaze softening. "Wait. I've changed my mind. Even in death, I'll become a spirit and haunt you."
"I meant what I said," Mu Dishi insisted.
"I know, and I meant what I said too," Ma Jingguo responded, his voice filled with a deep sincerity.
"But why?"
Ma Jingguo's expression grew serious, a vulnerable truth dawning in his eyes. "Because I'm incredibly jealous of you. I want your attention, all of it, even when I'm gone. I don't want anyone else to lie beside you. I want you to stay with me, just like that crow. Xiao shushu... I want to take my last breath in your arms, and I want your face to be the last thing I see. So please, don't leave me until you know for sure that I am truly dead."
Mu Dishi didn't respond, the weight of his words hanging between them.
"If I'm ever injured and unable to move," Ma Jingguo continued, his voice heavy with a desperate plea, "I want Xiao shushu to stay with me until my last breath."
"Jingguo, your needs are different from mine," Mu Dishi replied quietly.
Ma Jingguo cut him off with a weary sigh. "How could they be the same? We have two different hearts, two different desires." He let out a wide yawn, breaking the tension. "Xiao shushu, I'm exhausted. Let's finish this talk tomorrow. I'm sure we'll find a dead crow in our yard by morning." He closed his eyes, his breathing evening out.
But a secret thought remained, buried deep in his heart: he hoped Mu Dishi would do what Mu Dishi truly wanted. If he ever found himself dying or gravely injured, he prayed Mu Dishi would leave him behind.
The next morning, Ma Jingguo woke up alone. He sat up, the cold sheets a stark reminder of the empty space beside him. A quick glance out the window confirmed his fear: Mu Dishi was standing by the fence again. Ma Jingguo dressed quickly, his movements urgent, and hurried outside.
He wrapped his arms around Mu Dishi's back, holding him tightly.
"Jingguo," Mu Dishi said, his voice flat and cold. "You were wrong."
Ma Jingguo came around to stand next to him. On the cold, white ground lay two dead crows. One had its wings spread wide, a final, protective gesture, as if shielding its companion from the bitter cold. It had died with its wings out, guarding the one it loved.
Ma Jingguo's hand found Mu Dishi's, his fingers lacing with his. "Xiao shushu, I didn't mean any of what I said last night." His voice was a raw confession. "If that ever happens to me, I want you to find a way to be happy. I'll take Wang Biming's place. I'll be that special person you only meet in your dreams." He leaned in and kissed Mu Dishi's temple.
Ma Jingguo turned and walked to the kitchen, returning with a hoe and a large bowl. He gently picked up the two lifeless crows, placed them side by side in the bowl, and carried them to the snow-covered flower bed. He began to dig, the hoe chipping at the frozen ground. Once the hole was deep enough, he carefully laid the two crows side by side inside it and covered them with dirt.
He then turned to Mu Dishi, his hands caked with earth. "Xiao shushu, I'll carve a wooden marker for their grave." He stood and wiped the dirt from his hands, his eyes finding Mu Dishi's. A gentle, serious smile touched his lips. "Even after death, I want to lie beside you."
A soft, genuine smile appeared on Mu Dishi's face. "I don't mind lying next to you while we're alive," he said. "And after we die, I don't mind lying next to you either."
"Then I'll take that as a promise," Ma Jingguo murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He stepped closer, cupped Mu Dishi's face in his hands, and lowered his head to kiss him.
The morning's stillness was abruptly broken by a young woman's heart-wrenching cry. Mu Dishi and Ma Jingguo exchanged a worried glance; their attention instantly pulled toward the sound. They moved from the warmth of their home and onto the cool, dusty road. Their pace faltered as they caught sight of her—a young woman stumbling forward, her clothes a horrifying mask of blood. As her gaze met theirs, she seemed to lose all strength, her body giving out as she fell to the ground.
Ma Jingguo knelt at her feet, his expression grim. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice low and firm.
The woman's body shook uncontrollably. "Please," she pleaded, her voice a ragged whisper. "You have to help me."
"What's wrong, xiaojie?" Ma Jingguo asked, his voice soft and comforting as he knelt before her.
She shuddered, her explanation a choked, nervous stutter. As she spoke, her hand disappeared into her bloodstained sleeve. A moment later, a flash of steel caught the light as she lunged, the dagger aimed squarely at Mu Dishi.
In an instant, Ma Jingguo was in front of him, his right hand shooting out to intercept the blade. The dagger tore straight through his palm.
The young woman stumbled back, her eyes fixed on Ma Jingguo's bleeding hand, a look of utter bewilderment on her face. "Why?" she cried out, bewildered. "Why would you risk your life for someone like him?"
Ma Jingguo's eyes blazed, a vengeful fire fueled by the ghost of Mo Ehuang. A dangerous edge crept into his low voice, and a cruel smirk twisted the corner of his lips. "Anyone who wants to hurt him has to go through me."
He was about to pull the dagger from his hand and end her life, a cold, quick solution to prevent another tragedy like Mo Ehuang. But he paused, his gaze lingering on her youthful face. She was still so young. He decided to spare her, for now.
"You are still so young," he asked, a hint of his earlier ferocity remaining. "What kind of resentment do you have towards him?"
"He... he killed my father," the young woman stuttered, a fresh wave of tears streaking down her bloody face.
Ma Jingguo's eyes narrowed. "Who is your father?" he demanded, his voice now devoid of any concern.
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with defiance. "Zu Mingsheng."
A harsh laugh escaped Ma Jingguo. "Your father murdered his father. If your father has not murmured his father in the first place, he won't end up the way he is," he scoffed, his words cutting. "And with your skills, you'll never come close to defeating him."
The young lady said, "I will one day."
Ma Jingguo's eyes burned with a cold fury as he stared down the young woman. "If you ever try to harm my xiao shushu again," he snarled, his voice a low, chilling threat, "I will kill you. That's not a warning—it's a promise."
He turned to Mu Dishi, his expression softening instantly. The rage vanished, replaced by the innocent, adoring look of a puppy. "Xiao shushu," he said, holding up his bleeding hand with a hopeful smile, "help me with my wound."
The young woman watched them go, her eyes filled with a cold, hateful resolve. "Demon Mu," she murmured into the sudden silence, her voice a venomous whisper, "one day, I will kill you with my own hands."