After parting ways with Bazar Batu, Ma Jingguo retreated immediately to his private chambers. He sat down heavily at the dressing table; his gaze fixed on his reflection in the bronze mirror. He studied his own features—a face he knew was not hideous, with no scars to mar the skin and no evil, demonic red eyes. And yet, he thought with aching repetition, those he loved always left him, one by one. His mind traveled a familiar, sorrowful path: the departure of his parents, the loss of his shifu, and now, the profound, inevitable absence of Mu Dishi.
A deep, shuddering sigh escaped his chest, a heavy acknowledgment of his solitary fate. He accepted the cruel, cold reality: no matter how fiercely he fought to keep Mu Dishi chained by his side, Mu Dishi would sooner or later leave him.
He stared at his reflection, a slow, heartbreaking smile of grief spreading across his face. "Ma Jingguo... aren't you tired," he whispered to the mirror, the words edged with a lifetime of pain. "Tired of chasing after the dreams that only exist in your fantasy all your life?" His voice wavered. "Shouldn't you spend the remaining of your days simply living? Eat the food you want to eat. Drink the wine you want to drink, and..."
His vision blurred. Tears of devastating sorrow moistened his eyes, blurring the image of his face. "Travel down the Yangtze River..." he choked out, the dream of freedom and peace a sharp, final torment. He furiously wiped the tears away, his voice hardening with self-scorn. "Ma Jingguo, stop lying to yourself! The only person that had ever truly loved you died a long time ago on that lonely roadside teahouse in the outskirt of Tong Village... you buried her with your own hand."
The vivid, heartbreaking image of his dying mother flashed before his eyes. He sighed, the sound heavy with sorrow and resignation, and muttered to himself, his voice barely audible, "Mother, you are correct. People like us only have our shadow to accompany us through our lonely hours, and no one will be willingly to stand by our side."
Having passed through the searing pain of his emotional breakdown and accepted the dissolution of his desperate fantasy, he rose stiffly to his feet. With a face now empty of both hope and active despair, he walked out of his room and headed toward the main conference hall of the Sunset Sect.
Inside the main hall, Ma Jingguo sat on the throne, closed his eyes, and waited for Yuan Chaomei to return. A guard rushed in. "Chief Xin, Deputy Chief Yuan returned safely!"
A moment later, Yuan Chaomei walked in. She saw Ma Jingguo sitting there with his eyes closed and immediately spoke. "Chief, Chaomei failed to persuade the martial artists to let Mu gongzi return with me."
Ma Jingguo opened his eyes, descended four steps, and walked toward Yuan Chaomei, offering a gentle smile. "It's okay. As long as you're okay, I'm already very happy." He looked around at the assembled members in the hall. "Chaomei, before you appeared, we talked a few topics. Everyone in this hall said in unison, I should not confuse my personal feelings with the fate of Sunset Sect." He looked back at Yuan Chaomei. "What do you think?"
Yuan Chaomei replied immediately. "I agree with the elders."
Ma Jingguo sighed, then smiled, a strange relief in his expression. "I knew you would say that." He looked at everyone again, his voice now ringing with finality. "Everyone, since your voices are all the same. Today, I, Xin Taiyang, resign from being your Chief."
Everyone in the hall was taken aback. One of the elders stood quickly. "Chief, please reconsider your actions! If you wish, we can proceed according to your plan."
Ma Jingguo laughed—a dry, desolate sound. "Proceed according to my plan...? If I fail, I can't afford the price." He looked at Yuan Chaomei. "Chief Yuan, please take your seat."
Si Mefeng urged, "Chief, we know you are worried about Mu gongzi. Please think twice. You can't resign as our chief for this small reason!"
Ma Jingguo shook his head. "To be honest, I never intended to be your chief forever. I did this because of my promise to shifu. I have fulfilled my promise to him. Everyone is right. Countless lives have been sacrificed for Sunset Sector to be acknowledged by the Six Sects. I shouldn't ruin the relationship between Sunset Sect and the Six Sects. If I did, everything that everyone tries to achieve will be in vain."
Yao Hu asked, his voice filled with worry. "What do you plan to do next?"
Ma Jingguo smiled, the expression empty of the power they were used to seeing. "I have a year, and five months left to live, and I should spend it wisely. I think I will travel. Eating and drinking, enjoying different wines with a new horizon every day." He laughed again. He turned to Yuan Chaomei and bowed slightly. "Congratulations, Chief Yuan."
Early in the next morning, the morning sun was still a pale, diffused light, struggling to burn through a thin layer of mist that clung to the high mountain peaks. The air was cold and damp, carrying the scent of dew and pine needles.
Ma Jingguo, having made his decision to leave, walked slowly down the stone steps of the main hall of the Sunset Sect. The weight of his impending absence seemed to settle on the very atmosphere. At the bottom of the stairs, his five long-term "tigers"—men who had stood by him through the years of his rise and his isolation—were waiting.
Their faces, normally stern and impassive, were now etched with a profound, quiet sadness. They did not weep or shout, but the grief was unmistakable in the steady, loyal look of their eyes. They knew the truth of his condition, and their current task was not a military duty, but a final, heartbreaking farewell. As they watched him approach, their posture conveyed a deep, agonizing acceptance of his fate—sending their Chief off to enjoy the small fragments of life he had left, alone, before the sickness claimed him.
Yuan Chaomei broke the silence, her voice soft with understanding. "We knew that you would leave without letting us know."
Ma Jingguo managed a weak smile. "I hate goodbye."
Tang Keung stepped forward. "Chief…"
Ma Jingguo gently cut him off. "Hah… I am no longer your chief."
Tang Keung corrected his formality, shifting to a more personal bond. "Ma-xiong, the gate of Sunset Sect will be open for you at all times."
Yao Hu and Yao Huo immediately knelt. "Ma-xiong, thank you for saving us."
Ma Jingguo smiled, bending down to help them rise. "Get up... get up. If you count by age, I am younger than you. By the way, we are good xiong-di. I am very happy to have such good xiong-di like you by my side all this time."
Si Mefeng asked the question heavy on all their hearts. "Ma-xiong, will you come back to visit us in the future?"
Ma Jingguo answered honestly. "I don't know yet. Since the people here are my good xiong-di, I will try my best to come visit as much as I can."
Tang Keung brightened slightly, offering a touch of normalcy. "If this is the case, then we should have dinner here once every year."
Everyone nodded in agreement, clinging to the hope of a promised reunion.
Ma Jingguo walked forward and faced his good brothers. He smiled genuinely. "I am very lucky to meet everyone. I am glad that I am no longer a person without a family." He paused, a sincere vow in his voice. "If I am still alive next year, I will definitely come back to have dinner with everyone." He walked down the stairs and waved at his five loyal leaders. When he descended far enough, he smiled, then let out a soft sigh, the last breath of the Chief of the Sunset Sect.
The five leaders of Sunset Sector watched Ma Jingguo slowly disappear from view.
Yuan Chaomei spoke, still watching the path Ma Jingguo took. "If chief—"
Si Mefeng interrupted gently. "You are the chief now."
Yuan Chaomei accepted the title but posed the difficult question. "If Xin-xiong fights with the Six Sects, what will everyone here do?"
Yao Hu answered instantly, loyalty overriding politics. "I will help him, because without him, us brothers would still be locked up in the Gu prison."
Tang Keung offered the political context. "He didn't want us to be involved in his personal affairs, so he decided to hand over the leadership seat."
Yuan Chaomei made her provisional decision. "I will accept it gently for the time being, but when Xin-xiong decides to return to Sunset Sect, I will return the leader's seat to him." She looked around at her subordinates. "Do you all agree?"
Si Mefeng shrugged, acknowledging the collective feeling. "As long as you don't mind."
Yuan Chaomei then spoke with a touch of sadness and intuition. "But I don't think he will return to Sunset Sect."
Yao Huo asked, concerned. "Why?"
Yuan Chaomei shared the heartbreaking dream Ma Jingguo had confessed. "If he succeeds in rescuing Mu gongzi, he will take Mu gongzi home. He told me that what he wanted most was to live a happy and healthy life with Mu gongzi, and travel the world with one flute and one guzheng."
Before they could contemplate this peaceful vision, a disciple rushed up the stairs, breathless. The disciple knelt before Yuan Chaomei. "Chief Yuan, Chief Xin is heading to the city where the Six Sects and other martial artists temporarily stay!"
Yao Hu immediately asked the new leader, "What shall we do?"
Yuan Chaomei looked toward the city, her worry evident. "Without him, Sunset Sect would never be complete." She looked sternly at the disciple. "Watch carefully. If Chief Xin is in danger, let us know as soon as possible."
The disciple bowed hastily. "Yes!" He hurried away.
The bright, early morning in Jiangnan was already bustling. Ma Jingguo, now disguised in simple, worn clothes that masked his identity as the fearsome leader of the Sunset Sect, walked slowly into the teeming market. The air was thick with the scent of spices, tea, and human effort. He chose a quiet table in a rustic inn and sat for a long, quiet time, letting the deafening noise of the outside world wash over him.
The inn itself was a hive of activity, constantly filled with a restless flow of martial artists. They came and went—clansmen in recognizable uniforms, traveling swordsmen, and messengers—all converging for the martial artist gathering. Yet, concealed by his old, unassuming attire and a profound weariness that dulled his usual intensity, not a single soul recognized him. He was completely anonymous, watching the world that hunted him pass by his table.
While slowly nursing a cup of wine, his sadness settled deep within his core. He was contemplating his final choice, the great fork in his remaining life.
To his right lay the path down to the pier. He could simply rent a boat, cross the mighty Yangtze River, and disappear forever. The price of this choice was a quiet, solitary farewell to the martial world, spending his last one year and three months eating and drinking, waiting for the devastating clash of internal energies to consume him in private.
To his left was the road leading to the old temple. If he chose that way, he would get to see Mu Dishi for one last time, a final, desperate glimpse of the only light left in his life. The price of this path, however, was certain and immediate: he would have to face the entirety of the skilled martial artists currently gathered in Jiangnan, and he would surely die tragically as they united to destroy him. His last act would be a glorious, self-sacrificial failure.
When Ma Jingguo had finished his meal and rested, he called the waiter. He asked, "How much?"
The waiter glanced at him. "Five liangs."
Ma Jingguo reached into his inner robe and took out his money bag. As he paid, the waiter looked down at the floor, picked up a thin, braided strand of hair, and placed it on the table. "Good sir, you dropped this."
Ma Jingguo picked up the braided hair and carefully stuffed it back into his inner robe. He looked down at his slightly torn shoes. "Xiao shushu, it's very true. I am very tired of chasing after you, so I gave up," he murmured, a final whisper of surrender. He walked out of the inn.
Just as he left, two young martial artists passed him and walked into the inn. One said, excited, "If antagonist Xin decided to show up, Mu gongzi will help the Six Sects to get rid of him!"
The other asked, shocked, "Really?"
"Yes, I heard it with my own ears. Mu gongzi agreed!"
Ma Jingguo paused on the street, the crushing weight of his decision easing slightly into bleak certainty. A low, humorless chuckle escaped him. "So, he agreed."
The choice was settled. His heart, already drowning in sorrow from the revelation that Mu Dishi truly wished him dead, dictated his final destination. "Xiao Shushu... if you want my life all you have to do is ask for it." His voice was strained, a raw wound of betrayal. "I would be happy to hand it over to you." He let out another soft, pained laugh, questioning the elaborate betrayal. "Why go through the trouble of joining hands with others to end my life?"
He adjusted his straw hat, the simple act contrasting sharply with the tragedy in his eyes, gave a final, broken chuckle, and turned left, walking deliberately into the blazing hellfire that everyone—including the man he loved—had set for him.
Ma Jingguo found the old temple easily. Ten young martial artists were sitting in front of the gate, chatting happily and ignoring the road. They assumed Ma Jingguo was just a beggar.
"Beggar, we have given everyone money, why are you still here," one scoffed.
"Go. Go. Go. Go," another waved him away dismissively.
Ma Jingguo stopped, his presence suddenly sharpening. "Yong Taihua has something that belongs to me. I'm here to take it back."
One young martial artist roared wildly, throwing his white pear onto the ground. "You nasty beggar, how dare you call Yong gongzi by name? Who the hell do you think you are?"
The youth rushed toward Ma Jingguo with a punch. Ma Jingguo's movement was blindingly fast. He squeezed the young martial artist's fist, then pinched the young man's throat. Ma Jingguo smiled, a lethal, chilling expression. "Little ant, how dare you raise your fist against the great Antagonist Xin?" With a sickening snap, Ma Jingguo broke the young martial artist's neck and threw his body on the ground. He continued to walk into the old temple.
Behind a building, Yan Zhanjin was still instructing others on how they would help Mu Dishi, when a disciple from Sword Village rushed in, terrified. The disciple shouted, "Da shixiong, da shixiong..."
Yong Taihua demanded, tense, "What's the matter? Has the Seventy-Two Islands attacked?"
The disciple gasped out the truth. "No, Xin Taiyang is here for shizun! He said, if you don't let shizun go, he will kill you!"
Bazar Batu, his eyes wide but somehow confirming his worst fears, whispered, "I knew he would come here."
Yong Taihua clenched his fists, a fierce determination replacing his shock. "Good. We don't need to find him."
Zhu Mingyang looked at Yan Zhanjin, his gaze resolute. "It's too late. Do it today. We will stop him as long as possible."
Bazar Batu held Kuo Lok's hand tightly, fear choking him. "Lok gege!"
Kuo Lok squeezed his hand back, offering calm assurance. "Don't worry. We will do as promised. I promised you that I will not let anyone take his life."
Zhu Mingyang drew his weapon. "Let's go and face Xin Taiyang."