For the next two months, Zan Huangming refused to fight Ma Jingguo. To the outside world, specifically Gu Xiaowen, he insisted Ma Jingguo was "not qualified" to face him. Zan Huangming cleverly found endless excuses, claiming Ma Jingguo was too badly injured or too weak. Secretly, however, he had been meticulously teaching Ma Jingguo the true Devil Fist Manual and the Killer String Manual.
In the evening, a tray of food slid through the bottom opening of the bolted iron door. Ma Jingguo got up and picked up the tray. He handed a bowl to Zan Huangming. He looked at the food: mustard greens with pork belly.
The sight of the dish triggered a sudden, painful memory. It reminded Ma Jingguo of the very first meal Mu Dishi had ever cooked for him.
"What's wrong?" Zan Huangming asked, noticing the look in the young man's eyes.
Ma Jingguo managed a faint, sorrowful smile, tears immediately wetting his eyes. "The first dish my Xiao Shushu made for me was mustard greens with pork," he whispered. "But it was too burnt, and far too salty."
Zan Huangming pressed, his tone neutral. "Where is this, Xiao Shushu?"
Ma Jingguo's voice hardened with fresh resolve. "I don't know. I left his body on the cliff on the side of the mountain. When I get out of here, I am climbing that cliff and bringing him down."
Zan Huangming frowned sadly, a genuine expression of loss crossing his face. "At least you know where his body is. For me, I don't know where to find him."
Ma Jingguo realized the old man was talking about a past companion. "You mean Ji Qianbei?"
Zan Huangming looked at him keenly. "Do you know where his body is buried?"
"Yes, Ji Qianbei's body was buried in the back cliff of Jinfeng Sect. Back then, I used to drink with him when I went to watch the sunset. Before my Shimu handed me the fake Devil Fist Manual, she told me the story about you and Ji Qianbei. She said you two died in a cave together." Ma Jingguo sneered, the bitterness heavy in his tone. "Obviously, that was wrong because you are still alive."
Zan Huangming sighed, revealing a long-held secret. "She might have told you about the first half, not the second half. Indeed, I deliberately taught Chujiu the Devil Fist Manual to kill all the fake martial artists."
Ma Jingguo smiled, a cold, dark glint in his eyes. "Do you know what Xiao Shushu called them?" He looked directly at Zan Huangming. "My Xiao Shushu called them dogs."
Zan Huangming threw his head back and laughed heartily. "The word dog seems to be the correct term!" He put down his bowl, a peaceful melancholy settling over him. "When Chujiu cut my tendons, I accepted the fact that I could no longer walk. I was not angry because Chujiu promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. We left the martial arts life and became two reclusive wanderers. It was short, but for me it was the most unforgettable memory in my youth."
Zan Huangming sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of decades, and began recounting the painful, truthful ending of Ji Chujiu and their last few months together.
"Along a small dirt road, I sat on a bamboo chair, carrying a basket of vegetables. I looked at the wild flowers blooming along the path." His voice softened, painting a picture of quiet domesticity. "Chujiu, if you didn't cut off my tendons, I wouldn't need you to be my horse."
Ji Chujiu was resolute, even then. "If I didn't cut your tendons, you would continue to kill people, and that is not what I want."
Zan Huangming defended his righteous rage. "That cannot be helped. They destroyed my peace first."
Ji Chujiu pleaded gently, "Huangming, it's been a few years, please let it go. Don't hold on to the past."
"I am not holding onto the past," Zan Huangming insisted, but the denial was thin. "I promise that as long as they ignore us, I won't cause them trouble." He handed a leather water bag to Ji Chujiu. "Have some water."
Ji Chujiu smiled, his voice full of anticipation. "We are almost home, I'll drink when we get there." He suddenly stopped, looking intently at the ground. There were too many footprints. He steered off the path and walked toward the wooded area. He gently lowered Zan Huangming from his back. "Huangming, you stay here and wait for me."
Zan Huangming, sensing the sudden tension, demanded, "What's wrong?"
Ji Chujiu offered a tight, false reassurance. "Nothing... I'll be back soon."
Zan Huangming shouted after him, a rising panic in his voice, "Chujiu, come back…"
No sooner had Ji Chujiu disappeared than Zan Huangming saw a swarm of martial artists rushing toward the direction of their small home. Unable to walk, Zan Huangming frantically removed the two shoulder straps that had held him on the bamboo chair and began to crawl toward the small dirt road. He didn't know how long he had crawled; his hands and knees were scraped raw and bleeding, but he didn't care. He continued to drag his broken body toward his home.
From afar, Li Chun saw the grotesque sight of Zan Huangming crawling. Li Chun rushed to help him. "Ah Da, why are you crawling here? Where's Ah Ho?"
Chen Kang followed, his voice laced with judgment. "Where is he? You can't walk, Ah Hao should know better than this."
Zan Huangming could only plead. "Please bring me home."
Li Chun, ignoring the judgment, was all kindness. "Alright... Alright... Ah Kang, return the bow to my wife, and I will take Ah Da back."
Zan Huangming, desperate, thanked him. "Thank you, Lao Li."
Li Chun waved off the thanks. "Don't mention it." Li Chun bent down, and Zan Huangming climbed onto his back.
Just near their home, there were dead bodies everywhere. Zan Huangming knew with chilling certainty that these dead belonged to the six sectors, four clans, and the four houses—the enemies who had hunted them relentlessly.
Li Chun stopped, trembling violently. "Ah… Ah… Ah Da…, we should go back!"
Zan Huangming's mind was made up. "Lao Li, stop. I can crawl from here."
Li Chun managed to gently set Zan Huangming onto the ground, his body shaking with fear. Zan Huangming reached into his inner robe and pulled out several items. He handed Li Chun the gloves, two golden bells, and two manuals. "Lao Li, take these. I don't think I need this anymore."
Li Chun was bewildered. "Ah Da, what is this?"
Zan Huangming's voice was low and serious. "This is the Devil Fist and Killer String Manuals that Ah Ho and I created."
Li Chun protested, completely out of his depth. "I'm a woodcutter, not a martial artist!"
Zan Huangming was insistent. "If you don't want it, just give it to the right person. Sell it if the bid is high, but you must never sell it to people from the six sectors, four clans, and the three houses. If you do, I will curse you and your ancestors all the way from hell!"
Li Chun, overwhelmed by the terror and the gravity of the oath, could only reply, "Ah Da… I will remember it."
Zan Huangming offered a final, pained confession. "Lao Li, I'm sorry, but they hurt me. I hate them."
Li Chun, despite his fear, spoke with quiet dignity. "Ah Da, although I'm a woodcutter, I have my own pride and dignity."
Zan Huangming nodded in gratitude. "Thank you. It's dangerous here. You'd better leave now. If those people know you have these things, they will kill you." He immediately began to crawl toward his home.
Zan Huangming crawled over the mutilated corpses littering the ground. Finally, he reached the door, where he saw Ji Chujiu lying motionless in front of the house. Zan Huangming quickly dragged his broken body to Ji Chujiu and held him tenderly in his arms.
"Chujiu, I am here now," Zan Huangming whispered, his face streaked with tears.
Blood spurted from Ji Chujiu's mouth. He gurgled slowly for a few moments before forcing out a single, final word: "Run…"
Zan Huangming smiled sadly. "I won't run. I am here." He used his left sleeve to gently wipe the blood from Ji Chujiu's mouth.
Ji Chujiu stretched out his blood-stained left hand and touched Zan Huangming's right cheek. He struggled, speaking his last words with a look of peaceful defiance, "I don't regret it." He smiled at Zan Huangming, and his eyes went blank.
Zan Huangming smiled down at the dying Ji Chujiu, his face covered in blood and tears, yet filled with a final, desperate peace. He struggled to utter the words that had always been locked in his warrior's heart.
"I'm going to try to speak the word that my heart wants you to know," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to see your face's reaction when the music began to roll. Nobody else understands my thoughts and touches my soul like you can. No one can melt my heart like you do simply by plucking those silver strings."
Zan Huangming's tears fell onto Ji Chujiu's face. Still, he smiled and continued, painting a picture of the endless journey they were about to take. "I spent my days wandering and waiting for you, as we travel down the path to the unknown, I toast to you. Let us stop often on this unknown path and pluck our strings to accompany lonely souls who travel without their soulmate."
Ji Chujiu chuckled, a fragile, fading sound, and panted with the effort of life leaving him. He reluctantly forced out his final promise: "Alright... I will... wait... for you."
He closed his eyes with a smile, and his blood-stained left hand began to slide away from Zan Huangming's face. But Zan Huangming quickly caught it, holding it firmly back against his right cheek. He closed his own eyes, tears streaming down his bloodied face, embracing the final, devastating stillness.
Gu Kexin, Cao Zihan, Wang Yichen, and Rao Zimo—four powerful figures from the major houses—approached Zan Huangming from the side of Zan Huangming and Ji Chujiu's house.
Gu Kexin led the way, a silver leaf in her left hand and two in her right. Her voice was cold and demanding. "Zan Huangming, if the sun was shot down, it should stay down."
Zan Huangming, looked at the four leaders with contempt. "We don't want to have anything to do with the martial arts world anymore. Why can't you leave us alone?"
Cao Zihan offered a tight, chilling smile. "You should know better than us. Your first mistake was to declare us an enemy. You killed the leaders of the six sects."
Rao Zimo followed up, pressing the charge. "Once you hurt the leader of the six sects you declared to the martial arts world that the four households are your enemies."
Wang Yichen sneered at his apparent stupidity. "How can you not understand such a simple fact?"
Gu Kexin cut to the chase. "Hand it over."
Zan Huangming smiled sadly and bitterly. "So, the four of you came here not to avenge the leaders of the Six Sectors, but to ask for my manuals."
Wang Yichen confirmed their true purpose. "If you hand it over, we will spare your corpse."
Zan Huangming burst into laughter, the sound harsh and accusatory. "I never knew that the four households that were supposed to keep peace in the Central Plain turned out to be fakes." With a surge of internal force, he pulled a guzheng string from his sleeve. He sat crossed-legged on the ground, and a powerful ray of light—a concentrated blast of his Killer Strings energy—shot straight at the four approaching leaders.
The four leaders were instantly repelled by the powerful surge of Killer String energy and flew backward. Cao Zihan recovered first, immediately sending two red thread needles at Zan Huangming, causing two red ropes to wrap tightly around his wrists. Gu Kexin followed up, sending a silver leaf into his right chest. Wang Yichen flew over and delivered a devastating direct hit to his back.
Zan Huangming vomited a mouthful of blood. Yet, he still smiled in defiance. "Kill me!"
Rao Zimo demanded, impatience evident, "Where are the manuals?"
Zan Huangming laughed, tapping his right temple with a bloody finger. "It's all in here."
Cao Zihan looked to her allies. "What shall we do?"
Gu Kexin, cold and calculating, stepped forward. "Zan Huangming, the Gu's underground prison cell is very large, and our torture techniques are especially designed for people like you." She sighed dramatically. "If you refuse to tell us today, or tomorrow, one day... you will eventually tell us. A bowl of rice and a plate of cabbage a day won't make me poor."
Wang Yichen raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why do you think we would allow Zan Huangming to be kept in Gu's cell?"
Gu Kexin revealed the terms of their sinister alliance. "We promised that whoever gets Zan Huangming to talk about the Devil Fist and Killer String manuals will have to share it with the rest."
Cao Zihan quickly laid down the threat. "If any one of you keeps secrets, then the other two households will join forces to get rid of the traitor."
Cao Zihan stated firmly, "I agree."
Wang Yichen confirmed, "Agree."
Rao Zimo sealed it, "Agree."
Gu Kexin finalized the treacherous pact. "You three have permission to visit the prisoner anytime, but if you get anything from him, you must share it with us."
As he finished telling Ma Jingguo of his past, Zan Huangming looked at him, his gaze distant. "They kept me here ever since." He chuckled, a dry, bitter sound. "That day is the last day I saw the sunrise and the sunset. I didn't even have the chance to properly say my goodbye to Ji Chujiu or bury him."
Ma Jingguo was aghast. "Shifu, you have been locked up all this time?"
Zan Huangming nodded slowly. "Yes, they tortured me every day. They broke my bones, healed me, and when it was almost healed, they broke it again. Until one day, I decided to write a fake Devil Fist Manual. My goal is to make them crazy, and I succeeded. It's not just them that are affected by it, but also their stupid younger generation."
The heavy door suddenly swung open.
Zan Huangming pulled Ma Jingguo closer, his voice urgent. "Your chance is here. Remember what you promised me."
Ma Jingguo, his heart resolute, gripped his master's hand. "Shifu, I promised you. You will walk out of here. You wait for me."
In a frantic, decisive move, Zan Huangming wrapped a chain around Ma Jingguo's neck, just as two guards rushed into the room.
One guard screamed, "Young masters, young masters! The old man went crazy again!"
Gu Xiaowen rushed in with twenty guards. Gu Gouliang pulled Ma Jingguo away from the struggle and into the corridor. Gu Xiaowen immediately poured medicine into Zan Huangming's mouth. Zan Huangming screamed, his body struggling and jerking violently on the floor. After a short, agonizing period, the medicine took effect. Zan Huangming slowly stopped struggling and fell into a coma.
Gu Gouliang looked at his brother. "Ge, what shall we do with him?"
Gu Xiaowen, cold and efficient, commanded, "Drag him to another cell and call the doctor."
The two guards dragged the unconscious Ma Jingguo's body out of the bolted prison dungeon. They followed Gu Xiaowen and Gu Gouliang down the corridor.