Inside the carriage, Ma Jingguo continued to sit with his eyes closed, trapped by his own relentless memories. He knew, deep down, that from the moment he met Mu Dishi in Tong Village to the last time he held him, they were never destined to be together. He was, after all, the son of Mu Dishi's enemy. Even if they had overcome every earthly obstacle, they could never escape their fate. Fate had marked them to be eternally separate.
He felt the cold, brutal history of their separation: Fate tore them apart forever. Fate had flung him off that cliff into the river, tormenting his body and mind for four excruciating months. Fate had refused him the right to draw his last breath while holding the man he loved more than his own life. Fate cruelly denied him the chance to say goodbye to the person who owned his heart, and then, most savagely of all, fate forced him to bury the mere skeleton of the only person who had ever made him believe in the goodness of humanity.
As the crushing memories played endlessly in his mind, he let out a broken murmur. "I hate fate…" A heavy sigh followed. "I hate the darkness…"
Ma Jingguo's mind clung to the night he had escaped the Gu Household.
He remembered lying in the pitch dark, painstakingly releasing his acupuncture points one by one using concentrated internal energy. When the last point was free, he felt sensation return to his body. Slowly getting up, he stumbled backward and landed on the ground beside the horrific pile of corpses the Gu guards had discarded. His vision was blurred; he shook his head, unable to see clearly, but he slowly forced himself away from the dead.
After walking endlessly in the darkness, he finally reached a small house on the outskirts of a town. He knocked weakly on the door, and when a middle-aged woman answered, he fainted instantly, hearing only the woman's panicked call for her husband before everything went dark.
He slowly woke to a man staring down at him. "Xiong-tai, you are awake," the man said gently. He quickly returned with a bowl of tea. "Drink something first."
Ma Jingguo drank the tea gratefully. He handed the bowl back and asked, "Where am I?"
"You are in Shizi Village," the man informed him.
Ma Jingguo knew the location was dangerously close to Gu Manor—one of the four surrounding villages that spoke highly of the Gu family. The man brought him rice and vegetables. He devoured the food, his mind drifting to his imprisonment, and he felt a sharp sadness for failing to escape with Zan Huangming.
The man asked, worried, "Xiong-tai, what happened to you?"
Ma Jingguo lied easily. "I was robbed by some bandits."
"Are there bandits here?"
"No, I was robbed near here. I was on my way seeking help from the Gu Household, but I was so hungry that I fainted."
The man smiled warmly. "Fortunately, you found us."
"If it's not too troublesome, I'll stay one night. Tomorrow, I'm going to Gu Manor."
The man's smile widened. "You are welcome. I believe Chief Gu can help you track down those bandits and give you justice."
Ma Jingguo scoffed internally. "I believe he can," he said aloud, the sarcasm hidden by his exhaustion.
Later that night, Ma Jingguo lay on the hard daybed, staring up at the dark ceiling. The darkness brought him back to the prison cell.
In the damp, black dungeon, where only the tiny glow of an outside oil lamp was visible, Ma Jingguo suddenly woke from a nightmare, sweating profusely and gasping for breath. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, his sadness growing. Three days had passed since Mu Dishi stayed behind for him. He worried if Mu Dishi had escaped. The more he thought about his beloved's severe injuries, the angrier he became. Mu Dishi couldn't have survived the jump and left the river without help. He longed to leave and run back to the cliff cave, but the iron latch door kept him trapped. He stood and banged twice on the metal.
Zan Huangming's voice cut through the dark. "You can't open that door by knocking on it."
Ma Jingguo's voice trembled with anguish. "Shifu, I don't know what happened to my xiao shushu. I hate the feeling of not knowing!"
"Seeing with your own eyes might not give you closure," Zan Huangming warned.
"Shifu, my xiao shushu is a survivor! I know he is still alive!" Ma Jingguo insisted, clinging to the promise. "He promised me that he will go home with me. He promised that from now on, he would not make a decision without me."
Zan Huangming remained firm. "I don't want you to think about it now. I want you to concentrate on studying the Devil Fists Manual and the Killer Strings Manual. You can leave here only after you complete the training."
Ma Jingguo vowed, his voice filled with burning determination. "I will complete it, because I want to get out of here and go find xiao shushu. I also want to save Shifu from this living hell."
Just then, a food tray slid through the small opening at the bottom. Ma Jingguo picked it up: two chicken legs, two bowls of rice, and stir-fried vegetables. He put the food in front of Zan Huangming, handing him one of the rice bowls.
"These people treat their prisoners with good food," Ma Jingguo noted. He reached for a chicken leg, but Zan Huangming snatched it away.
"Rice only," Zan Huangming ordered, taking a large bite of the chicken leg. "The chicken legs and vegetables are poisoned. You eat rice only."
Ma Jingguo was shocked. "Shifu, if you always knew, why do you want to eat it?"
Zan Huangming swallowed, his expression bleak. "Because I have been taking the poison for a long time. If I don't take the poison for a day, I will die within three days. Moreover, at that time, I lost Chujiu, and I decided to eat and drink whatever they gave me." He looked at Ma Jingguo, his eyes sharp. "You are different. If you want to see your xiao shushu again, you must survive." He pushed his bowl of rice toward Ma Jingguo. "So, rice only."
Ma Jingguo grabbed the bowl of rice, his gaze fixed on the plain white grains, his heart twisting with pain and desperate resolve. He murmured the vow into the darkness. "Xiao shushu, you must wait for me. I will come to you as soon as I am out of this dungeon." He didn't hesitate; he began eating the rice, fueling his survival.