The following morning dawned bright and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the bloody darkness of the night before. By sunrise, Ma Jingguo's victory was made hideously public.
In the center of the Mangsha Sect's training grounds, where masters once taught, a series of crude, heavy wooden cages had been hastily erected. Built from rough, splintered timber and reinforced with thick ropes, the multiple cages looked less like secure prisons and more like livestock pens—a deliberate choice to underscore the dehumanization of the captives.
Into these unpainted, rustic boxes were shoved the captured martial artists. The disciples, clan elders, and renowned heroes who had refused to surrender were crammed together, each cage holding more people than it should. Stripped of their outer robes and weaponry, they were dressed only in their inner garments, their injuries starkly exposed. The smell of fear, sweat, and freshly spilled blood mingled with the raw scent of the new wood.
As the sun climbed higher, beating down directly onto the exposed training ground, the true torment began. This was not merely imprisonment; it was a psychological weapon built of heat and crowding.
The captives, exhausted from the battle, were forced to endure the scorching heat. Sweat poured down their faces, soaking their clothes, and the splinters of the rough wood rubbed against their wounds. The indignity was magnified by the sheer number of cages, transforming the training ground into a shocking gallery of defeat. The remaining Mangsha disciples and staff were ordered to watch, while Ma Jingguo's black-clad guards patrolled the perimeter, offering taunts and not a single drop of water.
This brutal spectacle served Ma Jingguo's purpose perfectly: it was a calculated display of power, shattering the reputation of the captured heroes while demoralizing the survivors of the sect. The proud men and women were reduced to panting, parched animals, enduring the sun's scorn as part of their new master's absolute, humiliating command.
At around mid-afternoon, the entire treasury of Mangsha Sect had been piled high before all the captive martial artists. Looking at the dazzling gold and silver, the sight reminded Ma Jingguo of the first time he walked into the treasure cave in his home with Mu Dishi in Tong Village. He was deeply immersed in his memories when three figures approaching the training ground caught his eye: Yuan Chaomei walking in with Li Howin and Mu Huidai.
"Chaomei," Ma Jingguo said with a smile, rising to greet them. "Good thing you came here. Mangsha Sect seems pretty well off. Comparing them to Jinfeng Sect, their wealth has suppressed Jinfeng Sect's."
Yuan Chaomei looked past the treasure at the dozens of captured martial artists, who were being inhumanly kept in cages. She asked, her voice concerned, "Chief, these martial artists… is this necessary?"
Ma Jingguo's smile faded slightly. "It is very necessary. I put them in a cage as punishment for killing our people. I am waiting for them to tell me who killed Wen Qianbei." He spotted a golden hairpin glinting in the pile. He grabbed it and looked at Li Howin. "Come here."
Li Howin walked to Ma Jingguo. "Does the Chief have any needs?"
Ma Jingguo handed the golden hairpin to Li Howin. "Take it. It should look very good in your hair."
Li Howin took the hairpin, his cheeks flushing as he said shyly, "Thank you, Chief."
Late that night, under a sky draped in oppressive shadows, Ma Jingguo led the terrified maid through the sprawling, conquered Mangsha Sect. He finally chose a quiet, secluded spot—a small, overgrown courtyard tucked away behind the main halls, where the silence felt unnaturally deep. The air was cool and thick with the scent of old stone and disuse. He stopped, his imposing figure dwarfing the young woman. He turned his attention from the darkness to her frightened, trembling form.
His voice, though calm, was a low intrusion into the silence. "Tell me," he demanded, his gaze unwavering. "What exactly is this place?" The question hung heavy, a command that permitted no hesitation.
The young maid swallowed hard, clinging to the lapel of her garment. "I—I'm not sure, Chief. Since I started working here, no one has been allowed to enter this area. I only heard the rumors... that it belonged to the Mangsha Grandmaster himself. He lived here with his lover until they both passed away."
"Why didn't he live in the main sect with everyone else?" Ma Jingguo pressed, his eyes narrowing, intrigued by the tale of isolation.
The young maid blushed deeply, lowering her gaze to the mossy flagstones. "It's because his lover was... a man from an evil clan. The Grandmaster loved him fiercely and refused to let anyone in the sect harm him. So, they say he willingly chained his lover's foot to his own foot and endured all the harsh, daily punishments alongside him."
Just then, the soft crunch of footsteps announced Yuan Chaomei's arrival. She stopped a few feet away, her posture efficient and direct. "Gather some more reliable maids," she instructed the girl sharply. "And have this place thoroughly cleaned and prepared for Chief Xin's use."
The maid, jolted back to fear, curtsied awkwardly. "Yes, Guniang," she stammered, then hurried away, escaping the intensity of their presence.
Ma Jingguo sighed, shaking his head. "Chaomei, you scared the poor girl away."
"If we stay here, you want to stay here, right?" Yuan Chaomei countered, her tone bypassing small talk.
Ma Jingguo chuckled, a dry, rare sound. "Yuan Jiejie, have you developed telepathy powers while I was busy?"
"No," she said, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips. "But this kind of secluded, fortified foothold is remarkably similar to the house you share with Mu gongzi in the Tianshan Mountains." She then looked directly into his eyes, her expression turning serious. "You want to make amends with Mu gongzi, don't you?"
"I do," Ma Jingguo admitted quietly, all pretense dropping away. "I just... I don't know how or where to begin." He looked exhausted beneath the torchlight.
Yuan Chaomei's warning was grave. "The longer you wait, the deeper the scar will grow, and the farther the distance between you and Mu gongzi will be."
"I know," Ma Jingguo sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair. "I was thinking that once I made the Sunset Sect known in the martial artist world—as Shifu wished—I would give the leadership seat to Wen Qianbei and crawl my way back to Xiao Shushu. But right now, everything is completely different from my original, naive plan." He looked to Yuan Chaomei for clarity. "Yuan Jiejie, if one day, the path forces me to kill Fu Yuanjun, what would you do?"
Yuan Chaomei answered without a moment's hesitation, her voice plain and final. "My relationship with Fu Yuanjun is nothing more than a broken rope. No matter how many knots are tied to bind the pieces together, it will never be a smooth, whole rope again. Therefore, if that time comes, you do what you need to do. I will not stand in your way."
Ma Jingguo leaned back against the cool stone wall. "To be honest... I don't plan to be the Chief of Sunset Sect forever."
"Why not?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"I decided to be the Chief because Shifu kind of forced my hands. I was thinking once I rescued him, I could return the title to him. In the end, he died, so I was going to give it to Wen Qianbei, but someone killed her," he explained, his voice laced with the bitterness of lost opportunities. He looked at Yuan Chaomei, a sudden idea sparking in his eyes. "Yuan jiejie, do you want to be the Chief of Sunset Sect?"
"I never dreamed of it," she scoffed.
"The Devil Fist is based on raw hatred. It's too physical and unsuitable for you; if you learned it incorrectly, you'd end up suffering memory loss. Killer Strings requires strong, dedicated internal skills and rigorous training from childhood; only Xiao Shushu and Shifu were truly capable of mastering that technique." He paused for a moment, his mind working furiously. "How about the Red Thread Needle?"
Yuan Chaomei's interest piqued instantly. "Red Thread Needles? How is that possible?"
Ma Jingguo's tone became conspiratorial. "The Red Thread Needle is a very elegant fighting technique, extremely suitable for women. Wen Qianbei said so herself."
"You know the Red Thread Needle Manual?" she questioned.
"I do. Wen Qianbei taught me the complete method." He straightened up, his planning complete. "Yuan Jiejie, call Leader Si, Leader Tong, and the Yao brothers to meet me here tonight."
"What's wrong? What's the rush?" she asked.
Ma Jingguo revealed his contingency plan. "I'm afraid that after I leave the Sunset Sect, other righteous sectors will try to disturb you. So, I've decided to recreate the Five Tigers of Sunset Sect to defend our ranks."
Yuan Chaomei observed him with a touch of sadness. "You really have no plans to stay, do you?"
"I want to stay because I thought Xiao Shushu was dead, but he is still alive!" He offered a rare, genuine, happy smile—the first she had seen in months. "I want to spend the rest of my life with him. One flute and one guzheng, playing melodies wherever we are, and living a carefree life as our hearts desire." He turned to looked at Yuan Chaomei. "What about you? What do you want most?"
Yuan Chaomei looked around the ruined sector, then back at him. "Chief," she admitted softly, "I have been traveling all my life and have never had a real home. For me, what I want most is a place that can finally be called home."
Ma Jingguo leaned forward, his gaze distant, lost in a memory. "I used to have a home," he began, his voice dropping to a raw, reflective tone. "But because of my big mouth and youthful arrogance, xiao shushu drove me out. He sent me away." He sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of time. "It's been more than ten agonizing years, and I haven't had a chance to go home."
He turned to Yuan Chaomei, his expression a mixture of sadness and hopeful determination. "Yuan Jiejie, when this chaos finally settles, I will go home—back to the place, and back to the arms, where I truly belong. I still dream of the day I stand inside my own home, where there will always be enough warmth waiting for me. Do you know, even after all these years of travel and darkness, I have never once forgotten the way home?"
Yuan Chaomei observed him steadily, her own face reflective. "If I had a place to truly call home, one where I was wanted, I wouldn't forget the way back either."
Ma Jingguo chuckled softly, the sound tinged with deep devotion. "But to be honest, wherever xiao shushu chooses to be, that is the place I call home. Because for me, my home is the warm, steady embrace of xiao shushu's chest."
"So," Yuan Chaomei pressed, her question pragmatic, "does that mean, if Mu gongzi decided to settle here, Chief would stay and continue to lead us?"
Ma Jingguo smiled, a genuine softening of his fierce features, and a faint flush rose to his cheeks. "You could say that, but with xiao shushu's stubborn attitude, he would never agree to such an arrangement. Moreover, if he doesn't like a place, no one in this world can force him to stay." He chuckled again, the feeling of anticipation giving him a fleeting joy. "My xiao shushu is a very stubborn, sometimes even unreasonable person. But I love him so very much... Sometimes, I'm terribly afraid that if I love him too much, he may feel uncomfortable and leave me. And yet, I still can't control these feelings for him."
Their intimate moment was shattered by the sound of approaching steps. A sect member quickly walked in, his expression urgent. "Chief, I'm here to report. Master Yuan has sent a message."
Yuan Chaomei swiftly took the sealed letter from the member's hand. She glanced at the young man. "You may go."
She broke the seal and began to read, her eyebrows drawing together in a sharp line. "'Dear Chief, the various righteous sects and influential clans have gathered to plan an extensive scheme to overthrow the Sunset Sect. When they finalize their action plan, I will notify you again. Also, please note that Fu Yuanjun and Gu Jingjing will be married in fifteen days.'"
Ma Jingguo's eyes narrowed, the warmth instantly replaced by cold calculation. "We've spoken too soon about Fu Yuanjun, haven't we? It seems he intends to get married." He looked at Yuan Chaomei, a sudden intensity in his gaze. "Yuan jiejie, do you want to travel to Tianshan with me?"
Yuan Chaomei paused, considering the proposal's weight. "Does Chief want me to accompany him?"
"It depends entirely on you. I will let you decide on that." He sighed, the brief flash of peace utterly gone. "Have everyone get ready. We need to move. I will personally go and send Fu Yuanjun a wedding gift he will never forget this lifetime." A bitter, chilling smile spread across his face, a promise of violence replacing the soft longing for home.