In Guozhao Zhiqiang's dream, he stood paralyzed in the middle of a burning village, the heat searing his skin. He saw fire and dead bodies everywhere, the smoke acrid in his lungs. He saw people who looked like him, his own kind, running frantically for their lives, their screams echoing. He saw a woman, her face desperate, calling him to run, but he was too disoriented, too terrified; he stood frozen, watching everyone around him get killed one by one, helpless.
The fallen woman, her voice raw with agony, shouted, "Run!"
Guozhao Zhiqiang, compelled by an instinct beyond fear, began to approach the fallen woman, stretched out his arms, his heart breaking, and called to her, his voice a desperate plea, "Mother..."
The fallen woman, her lifeblood pooling around her, shouted again, her voice fading, "Run away, child...!"
He watched in horror as a man in black, riding a terrifying black horse, rode forward and shot the woman directly in the back with his spear. He watched, numb with shock, as the woman's hands slowly, irrevocably, fell to the ground, her life extinguished.
Guozhao Zhiqiang, his mind reeling, began to walk slowly toward the fallen woman, but suddenly, someone ran forward, picked him up forcefully from the ground, and rushed them away, farther and farther from the burning village, leaving the nightmare behind.
Guozhao Zhiqiang woke up suddenly, his body drenched in a cold sweat, the phantom heat of the dream still clinging to him. He felt his heart hammering against his ribs, beating faster than a war drum. He took a few ragged, deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He wiped his forehead, then reached for Hu Dingxiang beside him, only to find the bed empty. He remembered that today was the fifth day, and the bandage on Hu Dingxiang's eyes would finally be unwrapped.
He was confident that after the tenderness and intimacy that had passed between him and Hu Dingxiang last night, Hu Dingxiang would surely come to see him later. With a silent sigh, he threw a talisman on the ground and summoned Shan, seeking guidance.
White smoke billowed out, swirling for a moment, and then Shan stood before him, his ghostly form expressionless, yet his presence conveyed a quiet understanding. "Zhiqiang," he intoned.
"Shan, please tell my masters and Shimu that I will be back in a few months," Guozhao Zhiqiang requested, his voice resolute, a decision made.
"Why are you all the way to the Northwest?" Shan questioned Guozhao Zhiqiang, his voice flat, but with an underlying curiosity about his master's intentions.
"I need my time alone," Guozhao Zhiqiang replied, his voice firm, offering no further explanation, his eyes distant.
When the smoke disappeared, Shan's form shimmered and he also disappeared, carrying the message.
Later that afternoon, as the sun began its descent, Guozhao Zhiqiang heard a soft, hesitant knock on the door. He went to open it; it was Hu Dingxiang, his eyes now clear and visible. He looked at Hu Dingxiang's newly unbandaged eyes, a wave of tenderness washing over him. He smiled, a genuine, warm smile, then leaned in, intending to kiss Hu Dingxiang's lips, but Hu Dingxiang, with a sudden, awkward movement, stopped him.
"It's daytime," Hu Dingxiang said shyly, a faint blush rising to his cheeks, pulling back slightly.
"Yesterday was also daytime," Guozhao Zhiqiang pointed out, his brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden change in demeanor.
"There are more people today," Hu Dingxiang explained, his voice a little strained, avoiding eye contact. "I'm going to pick a hunter to fight alongside me for the competition. Fortunately, my eyesight has fully recovered." He managed a strained smile. "Do you want to come?"
Guozhao Zhiqiang, his heart sinking with a strange unease, stretched his arm around Hu Dingxiang's waist, trying to pull him close, but Hu Dingxiang hurriedly pulled away, a clear rejection in the gesture.
Guozhao Zhiqiang was puzzled, a cold dread beginning to seep into him from Hu Dingxiang's reluctant reaction. "You're really different today from two days ago," he expressed, his voice tinged with hurt and confusion.
Hu Dingxiang finally looked at Guozhao Zhiqiang, forcing a bright, almost artificial smile. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice overly cheerful, "but I'm really excited because this is my first time participating in this competition, and I have to present myself well!" He grabbed Guozhao Zhiqiang's hand, his grip surprisingly firm. "Come and help me choose a hunter."
"I told you two days ago, I'll be your hunter," Guozhao Zhiqiang said, his voice firm, a quiet promise in his words. "Why would you need to choose another hunter?"
Hu Dingxiang smiled at Guozhao Zhiqiang, a forced, dismissive laugh escaping him. "I thought you were joking."
"When it comes to you, I don't joke," Guozhao Zhiqiang said sincerely, his gaze unwavering, full of genuine affection. He held Hu Dingxiang's hands, his grip tight, reinforcing his commitment. "If we win, you'll come down the mountain with me as we promised."
Hu Dingxiang smiled at him, a fleeting, almost imperceptible hesitation, then nodded.
Guozhao Zhiqiang, relieved by the apparent agreement, pulled Hu Dingxiang into his arms and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.
"Since I chose you as my hunter, you can come up the mountain with me," Hu Dingxiang said, pulling away, his voice now brisk and businesslike. "I have to prepare. My servant will pick you up in two hours." He walked towards the door, but was gently hugged by Guozhao Zhiqiang again from behind. "Don't worry," Hu Dingxiang added, a slight impatience in his tone, "I'll see you in two hours."
Guozhao Zhiqiang kissed the back of Hu Dingxiang's head, his heart full, and whispered, "I really love you from the bottom of my heart. I may not have fame and fortune, but I'm willing to spend my life faithfully with you. I'm very happy knowing that you're willing to leave here with me."
In a secluded hillside, inside the dark, cold dungeon, Deming felt his body lying on the cold, damp stone bed. He was a little confused, because when he fell asleep last night, he had been nestled in the warm embrace of the man who had promised to take him out of this land of hell.
Deming blinked slowly, unconsciously, his eyes trying to adjust to the perpetual gloom, and suddenly found himself back in the familiar, suffocating darkness of the room, his hands and ankles once again tied to his most hated, familiar chains, their metallic coldness a grim reality. For a terrifying moment, he thought that everything that had happened—the kindness, the warmth, the promise of freedom—was just a cruel dream, a fabrication created for him by his desperate mind, a mirage. But when he sat up quickly, a sharp, searing pain shot through his backdoor, a brutal, undeniable reminder. Then he knew, with a horrifying certainty, what had happened between himself and the man was all agonizingly real. He yanked his hand away but was held firmly by the unyielding chain. He looked up, his blindfolded gaze sweeping the room, and saw the boss, Hu Dingxiang, sitting casually on a chair at the door, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Why am I back here?" Deming asked confusedly, his voice raw with fear and betrayal, unable to comprehend.
"Where do you think you should be?" Hu Dingxiang replied, his voice chillingly calm, dripping with mockery.
"We have a deal!" Deming cried, his voice breaking with desperation. "If I went to bed with that man, you would give me my freedom! I didn't look at that man's face!"
Hu Dingxiang sighed, a theatrical sound of feigned regret. "That's right, Deming, we have a deal," he conceded, his voice soft, almost sympathetic, "but I never said I'd keep my word."
"You lied to me!" Deming sobbed, the full weight of the deception crashing down on him, his body wracked with anguish.
"If I did, what are you going to do?" Hu Dingxiang asked, a predatory gleam in his eyes, slowly walking towards Deming, savoring his torment. "Deming, your place is always in this dark dungeon. No matter how loud you call him, no one will come to rescue you. He won't even know where you are."
Deming sobbed, burying his face in his bound hands, and begged, "Please let me go... I didn't see your face, nor his face, I swear!" He desperately grabbed the hem of Hu Dingxiang's robe, clinging to it like a drowning man. "Please...!"
Hu Dingxiang chuckled, a cold, unfeeling sound that sent shivers down Deming's spine. "No... If I let you go, I won't have any sandbag to punch when I'm angry." Hu Dingxiang's face hardened, and he kicked Deming's left shoulder with his left leg, a sharp, brutal blow that sent a jolt of pain through Deming's body. "So, you stay and continue to be my sandbag."
Deming pleaded, his voice hoarse, tears streaming from beneath his blindfold. "You promised that if I slept with that man, you would let me go! I've done my duty!" He cried, his voice rising to a wail. "Please let me go! I didn't see your face! Please let me go!"
Hu Dingxiang sighed, a final, dismissive sound, and smiled, a cruel, triumphant expression. "Deming, I will never let you go. You will die in this dungeon alone."
"Liar! You lie to me!" Deming screamed in a sudden, furious burst of anger, desperation giving him a fleeting strength. He rushed at Hu Dingxiang, but was severely kicked by Hu Dingxiang, a powerful, merciless blow that sent him flying. With a heavy, brutal kick, Deming slammed back against the cold cave wall, the impact echoing loudly. Deming fell to the ground, his body convulsing, and vomited blood, a chilling display of his broken state.
Hu Dingxiang chuckled loudly, a truly terrifying sound of unadulterated cruelty. "I promise if we win the competition, I'll treat you well and won't use you as my sandbag for the time being. Be obedient." Hu Dingxiang then walked out of the door, his steps light, and closed the heavy iron door with a resounding slam, plunging Deming back into absolute darkness and despair.
Deming was back to where he hated most, the dungeon, the symbol of his endless torment. He had done everything he was asked to do. He had obeyed every order, endured every humiliation, but the boss, his captor, had cruelly deceived him.
As he sobbed uncontrollably in the dark room, his body wracked with pain and betrayal, he wondered, with a fragile, desperate hope, if the man, the kind man, would come and take him away as promised. Then, a crushing realization dawned on him: the man would never come. The man might not even know where he was imprisoned, or, worse, if he knew, but was a good friend of the boss, then it was impossible for the man to rescue him as he promised.
Deep down, a profound, agonizing question began to form in his mind: why had he become like this? He was an innocent child, still innocent in his heart. Why should they treat him like this? He hadn't seen the boss's face, nor the man's face. He had no way to identify them, no recourse, no escape. He buried his head on his knees, curling into a fetal position, and sobbed pitifully, his cries muffled by the cold, unforgiving stone, lost in the cruel deception.