The group of seven, weary but persistent, walked for two arduous hours and finally reached the foot of Mountain Village. Standing there, Guozhao Zhiqiang could see many small houses built into the mountain, their tiled roofs glinting under the afternoon sun, a stark contrast to the desolate paths they had traversed.
Guozhao Zhiqiang had never been to this land before; everything was unfamiliar to him, its customs and people unknown. He wasn't a social person and looked distinctly different from the people who lived there, his dark skin and powerful build standing out amidst their fairer complexions, so he didn't know what to expect from them, or how they would receive him. He continued carrying Hu Dingxiang, his burden light, and followed Hu Jianguo and the four women up the winding mountain road. When he reached halfway up the mountain, Hu Jianguo suddenly stopped, a deliberate halt, leaving the four female disciples walking ahead, oblivious to the unspoken command.
Hu Jianguo turned back, his gaze cold and calculating, fixed on Guozhao Zhiqiang and Hu Dingxiang. He said, his voice devoid of warmth, "Dingxiang, you know the rules and you know what to do." Hu Jianguo then continued walking up the intricate stone steps to the left, ascending towards the main village, leaving Hu Dingxiang and Guozhao Zhiqiang standing alone on the mountain steps, separated.
"I'm sorry, Zhiqiang," Hu Dingxiang said, his voice soft, tinged with embarrassment and resignation. "According to our sector's regulations, visitors aren't allowed in the mountains themselves. I'll take you to one of our guesthouses, a place set aside." He reached out and, with a gentle touch, grabbed Guozhao Zhiqiang's left hand, a silent apology in the gesture. "Follow me," he instructed.
Guozhao Zhiqiang and Hu Dingxiang walked into a remote bamboo forest area, a secluded grove dotted with many quaint guesthouses, hidden from the main village. There were already five other guests there, their hushed conversations drifting on the breeze. Hu Dingxiang led Guozhao Zhiqiang to a guesthouse farther from the other ten, deeper into the quiet solitude.
Hu Dingxiang smiled politely, a hint of his usual charm. "This one suits you the most," he mused, a teasing glint in his eye, "since you're the least talkative person here."
"You won't stay?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, a faint note of disappointment in his deep voice, his gaze unwavering.
"No, I won't," Hu Dingxiang replied, shaking his head. "I have to see my mother as soon as possible, unless she thinks there's something wrong with me. I'll have dinner with you, though," he added quickly, offering a small consolation. He smiled warmly at Guozhao Zhiqiang. "I'll see you tonight." He waved a quick goodbye and quickly left, disappearing into the bamboo, eager to see his mother.
That night, Guozhao Zhiqiang was sitting alone in the small bamboo shed, the only light the flickering dance of a candlelight, casting shifting shadows on the walls, when suddenly a soft knock disturbed the silence. He went to open the door and didn't see Hu Dingxiang, but a uniformed servant, his face impassive.
"Sir, this is your dinner," Servant Li said, his voice respectful, as he presented a laden basket.
"Where is Dingxiang? Who are you?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, his voice low, a hint of immediate concern for Hu Dingxiang.
"Call me Servant Li," the servant replied, bowing slightly. "Someone wanted to hurt the second young master tonight, but failed. So, he wasn't allowed to leave his bedroom, for his safety."
"Is he injured?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked worriedly, his stoicism momentarily breaking, his eyes narrowing.
"His body wasn't injured, but his eyes were," Servant Li said, his voice tinged with sadness. "Fortunately, we have many good doctors. The doctors said he'll be better in four days." The servant's face was clouded with evident sadness.
Guozhao Zhiqiang looked at Servant Li, his gaze piercing. "Why do you look sad?" he pressed, sensing deeper currents.
Servant Li said with a genuinely sad face, his voice dropping to a confidential whisper, "The second young master is always being watched. People say that being born in a wealthy family is a blessing, but they're wrong, because in a wealthy family, everyone's goal is to become the heir of the household leader. In five days, there will be a competition among the brothers, a brutal contest for power. Every young master can choose someone to compete with them for the title. My young master was injured suddenly, just before this. Is this really a coincidence, or is someone deliberately reducing my young master's chance of competition?" He sighed, a heavy sound of resignation. "I'm just a servant, and my opinion doesn't count in the eyes of the masters, so I can only watch helplessly."
"You said someone deliberately harmed him?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, his voice strong, a cold clarity in his tone, confirming his suspicion.
"I'm just a servant, and it's not something I can judge," Servant Li said, quickly retreating, fear in his eyes. "My young master cannot see now, nor can he choose a hunter to compete with him. Even if he chose someone, with his injured eyes, no hunter would be willing to compete alongside him, they would see it as a losing battle."
"Is he coming to see me?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, his voice softening slightly, a flicker of hope.
"My young master said tomorrow he will come to see you," Servant Li replied. He put the basket of food gently on the table. "Please don't tell my young master that I told you these things. He doesn't like this. He didn't want anyone to pity him."
"Don't worry, I won't tell him," Guozhao Zhiqiang promised, his word his bond.
"I'm leaving now. Enjoy your dinner. Goodnight," Servant Li said, his voice a little strained. He found that he had said far too much, revealing too many family secrets, and hurriedly left the room, his footsteps echoing softly down the path.
The soft footsteps echoed in the dark corridor, a furtive sound. In the deep, dark tunnel, Hu Dingxiang stood in front of a heavy iron door, his face grim. He inserted a key into the ancient lock and, with a metallic click, unlocked the iron door. He put down the lantern in the hall outside the dark, windowless room, its feeble light barely penetrating the gloom.
In the oppressive darkness of the room, a man in black was chained by handcuffs to the cold, damp wall. As soon as the door creaked open, the man in black, startled by the light, quickly moved from the center of the room to the farthest corner, shrinking into the shadows. The chilling sound of dragging chains quickly echoed through the darkness, a haunting reminder of his captivity.
Hu Dingxiang smiled faintly, a cruel, cold expression on his face. "Don't worry, Deming," he said, his voice light, chillingly detached, "I'm not here to beat you today."
Deming, his voice trembling with fear and pain, asked, "Then why are you here?"
Hu Dingxiang sighed dramatically, a theatrical sound. "I came with a proposal," he announced, his voice carrying an air of importance.
"What kind of proposal?" Deming, his voice still trembling, a flicker of desperate hope mixed with profound suspicion.
Hu Dingxiang giggled, a chilling, high-pitched sound. "A promise to set you free."
Deming slowly, hesitantly, approached Hu Dingxiang, the chains rattling softly. "Really?" he whispered, his voice barely audible, laced with disbelief.
Hu Dingxiang looked at the terrified man, his eyes cold and assessing. "You have to do something for me in exchange for your freedom," he stated, laying out the cold terms of the bargain.
"What is it?" Deming asked, his voice filled with a desperate eagerness.
"You only have to sleep with one person," Hu Dingxiang said, his voice casual, as if discussing the weather.
"What?! Sleep with someone?!" Deming exclaimed, utterly shocked, his eyes wide with horror and disgust.
"Not just sleeping, but engage in sexual intercourse with a young man," Hu Dingxiang clarified, his voice deliberately explicit, enjoying Deming's reaction.
"No! I am a man!" Deming exclaimed in shock, recoiling violently, shaking his head.
Hu Dingxiang sneered, a cruel, mocking smile on his lips. "Deming, you will either be locked here forever and be my sandbag for a lifetime, a punching bag for my frustrations, or sleep with this man and you will be free. The choice is yours." He walked out slowly, leaving the iron door slightly ajar, letting the chilling offer hang in the dark air.
"Wait... I will... sleep with him," Deming stammered, his body trembling uncontrollably, utterly defeated. He then broke down, sobbing, his voice raw with humiliation. "You swear to let me go afterward, swear it!"
Hu Dingxiang smiled, a triumphant, satisfied expression. "I will," he affirmed, a chilling promise. He walked back to unlock the heavy chains, the metallic clink echoing in the dark room. "Don't you dare try to escape," he warned, his voice low and menacing. "I've promised him to give you to him. My servants will be everywhere. If you try to escape, they will kill you." He put his hand around Deming's throat, squeezing hard, a cold reminder of his power. "Last time you tried to escape, I had to kill your mother, remember? Be a good boy and obey."
Standing in the cold night breeze, his eyes tightly wrapped in a thick blindfold, Deming didn't know where he was, disoriented by the darkness and his fear. He only heard the rustle of the wind blowing mournfully through the leaves, a lonely sound. He thought of it all like a twisted, horrible dream. He remembered being alone in the woods, a frightened child of about five years old, when an evil woman had come and taken him away. After that, he had been locked in this dark, silent room, his only company the chains and the pain. If sleeping with someone, a stranger, would release him, if he would no longer be someone's punching bag, then he would do it. Such a humiliation wouldn't destroy his will to survive; he had endured far worse.
Hu Dingxiang stood beside Deming, his voice low and chillingly precise, outlining the brutal terms. "Remember not to take off the blindfold. If you see the man's face, your chance of surviving is zero. You can't look at his face to ensure you won't be able to later identify him, understand?" Deming, shivering, nodded weakly. "If you look at him, my proposal will be off," Hu Dingxiang continued, his voice grating, teeth gritted madly. "Do you understand my instructions, Deming?"
Deming, terrified, nodded again. "I understand," he mumbled.
"Just answer yes to whatever name he calls you," Hu Dingxiang instructed, his voice flat, emotionless.
Deming nodded, his head heavy with dread.
"The less you say, the better. Don't make mistakes. If you make a mistake, the offer will also be canceled," Hu Dingxiang continued, his voice cold, leaving no room for error.
Deming nodded once more, his throat tight. "I understand."
Deming heard footsteps walking away from him, the sound receding, then stopping behind a distant tree. Deming knew, with chilling certainty, that the boss, Hu Dingxiang, was watching him, observing his every move, so he wouldn't dare make any mistakes. He stood there, a blindfolded figure in the darkness, not knowing which way to go, trembling with apprehension. After waiting for what felt like an eternity, Deming felt a warm, rough hand gently take his.
A deep man's voice, surprisingly gentle, said, "You shouldn't be out for too long. I'll take you back." The warm, rough-handed man spoke in a low, comforting voice. The man put his arms around Deming, a supportive embrace, and the two of them walked slowly towards the guesthouse, into the quiet darkness.