Chapter 07 Equal Trade

With his sword pulled from the scabbard in his left hand, Yong Taihua shouted at his fellow classmates, his voice ringing with urgency, "Surround him with the Seven Stars Formation!"

Ten men, including Yong Taihua, surrounded Mu Dishi. Mu Dishi sent four guzheng strings at the first two disciples, wrapping around their hands. Mu Dishi pulled them closer, his movements deceptively smooth, took the two swords from the two disciples' hands, then kicked them hard, sending them away. The two disciples screamed in pain as blood gushed out from their clean-cut right wrists. On the ground beside Mu Dishi lay the two disciples' severed hands.

Yong Taihua ran to his injured juniors, his face pale with shock, as the others attacked Mu Dishi.

When Mu Dishi swung the two swords around, colliding with the Yong disciples' swords, Ma Jingguo's heart trembled. Mu Dishi's movements were faster and smoother than before. He recalled Mu Dishi's words and teachings, a strange mix of horror and familiar admiration churning within him.

Mu Dishi stood, a small branch in his hand from which he had stripped the leaves. His voice, though not loud, carried the weight of absolute instruction. "When you fight an enemy, both of your hands must be fast. You cannot hesitate with your moves, because that will open an opportunity for your opponent to attack you. Your right hand attacks while your left hand defends." He gestured with the branch. "Attack me."

Ma Jingguo frowned, two swords held loosely. He looked at the slender twig in Mu Dishi's hand, then at his own sharp steel. "It's not fair, xiao shushu. You've got a small stick, and my swords are sharp. You will not win."

Mu Dishi's expression remained impassive. "Winning is not determined by weapon. Come... Strike at me."

Ma Jingguo scoffed softly, a familiar, playful grin touching his lips. "Alright then, here I come."

Ma Jingguo lunged, swinging his swords in a practice move. Mu Dishi flowed backward, impossibly quick, flipping over and landing lightly on top of Ma Jingguo's left sword blade. Before Ma Jingguo could react, Mu Dishi sprang, hitting Ma Jingguo's back hard with a swift, precise blow, sending him sprawling forward onto the dusty ground. Mu Dishi landed handsomely beside him, the small branch still in his hand, unharmed.

"You put too much concentration on your opponent's appearance," Mu Dishi said, his voice level. "You should only concentrate on your moves and your opponent's movements."

Ma Jingguo rolled onto his back, a groan escaping him, but the smile didn't fade. He looked up at Mu Dishi, his gaze fixed. "It can't be helped," he panted. "Xiao shushu is my opponent. My opponent is not just someone else."

Ma Jingguo scrambled back to his feet and charged at Mu Dishi again, his movements fueled by youthful determination. This time, he flew toward Mu Dishi in a sweeping attack. Mu Dishi flipped over him effortlessly and, in passing, hit Ma Jingguo's left leg with the branch, sending him flat onto the ground once more.

Mu Dishi tossed the small tree branch away. He said coldly, his tone sharp with critique, "You need to work on your agility. It's too slow. If you are against a stronger opponent, you will lose no matter how good your skill may be."

Ma Jingguo sat up, dusting the dirt from his clothes, a weary but hopeful smile on his face. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm. "Did I improve?" He stood up, sheathing his swords for a moment. "I think... I've learned all the moves." He walked closer to Mu Dishi, his voice lowering slightly. "Xiao shushu, the sword's attack only has seven levels?"

Mu Dishi said, "As of now, only seven levels and seventy moves. If I think of more, I'll let you know."

Ma Jingguo got up again, brushing off the last of the dust, and said, his voice light, shifting the mood, "Xiao shushu, there is no need to practice that hard, no matter how good I become, I can't leave this place, and I will not have any other opponent other than you, also, when it comes to fighting you... I surrender." He walked over and stabbed his two swords on the ground near the base of the large mango tree. He sat down comfortably in the shade beside Mu Dishi. He asked, his voice filled with casual curiosity, "Xiao shushu, what is the name of this sword's attack?"

Mu Dishi replied, his gaze fixed on something distant, "I have not thought of one. Now it is still nameless."

Ma Jingguo said, a smile spreading across his face, "Nameless is perfect for it. I like that name a lot." He gave Mu Dishi a big smile. "Xiao shushu, can we name it Wuming?"

Mu Dishi replied, a faint, almost imperceptible softening in his eyes, "Whatever you like." He picked up a single green leaf from the ground and, with a flick of his fingers, sent it spiraling up into the dense leaves of the mango tree. With a soft thud, two ripe mangoes dropped down onto the grass. "Go pick up those two mangoes."

Ma Jingguo stood up, complaining lightly. "That is such a waste of internal energy! Look at how I pick mangoes."

Ma Jingguo walked to the mango tree. Instead of using internal energy, he grabbed onto a sturdy tree branch and climbed up with agile speed. He stood on one thick branch, the leaves rustling around him, and picked two ripe mangoes.

Ma Jingguo called out, his voice bright, "Xiao shushu, catch!" He threw the two mangoes down to Mu Dishi. Ma Jingguo scoffed playfully and grabbed a handful of small tree branches with more mangoes attached. He jumped down easily and sat beside Mu Dishi, the scent of ripe fruit filling the air. He peeled a mango, the sweet juice dripping, and gave it to Mu Dishi. He watched Mu Dishi chew the mango, a strange warmth spreading through him as some of the mango juice smeared on Mu Dishi's slightly pinkish lips.

Without looking at Ma Jingguo, Mu Dishi asked, his voice quiet, "What are you looking at?"

Ma Jingguo replied, a slight blush on his cheeks, "I was wondering."

Mu Dishi asked, prompting him, "What?"

Ma Jingguo asked, his voice lowering slightly, hesitant, a tremor he couldn't hide, "Xiao shushu, have you ever kissed someone before?"

Mu Dishi replied, after a beat of silence, "Yes."

Ma Jingguo felt his heart burn and ache simultaneously. It was an intense, unexplained feeling that coiled in his chest. He heard his shaken voice ask, barely a whisper, "Who?"

Mu Dishi replied, his voice shutting down, cold again, "It doesn't concern you."

Ma Jingguo said, pushing gently, needing to know, "I just want to know how that person looked."

Mu Dishi replied, his voice softening almost imperceptibly, a distant, pained memory surfacing, "Very cute and lovely, especially when that person smiled."

Ma Jingguo asked, a hint of insecurity and jealousy creeping into his voice, "Xiao shushu, is that person's smile better than mine?"

Mu Dishi replied, his voice flat again, the momentary softness gone, "You don't need to compare it to yourself. That person died long ago."

A wave of sadness, heavy and unexpected, washed over Ma Jingguo. "That person is lucky," he murmured, "to have someone like xiao shushu still yearning after so many years." He felt a familiar ache of inadequacy. He couldn't even compare to a dead person inside Mu Dishi's heart. How could he be more important than a dead person, since he was the son of Mu Dishi's enemies? He looked at Mu Dishi's handsome face, the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves and dappling on his skin as he ate the mango. He then asked, changing the subject gently, "Xiao shushu, have you ever been to Jiangnan?"

Mu Dishi replied, "No."

Ma Jingguo said, his voice lighting up with a shared dream he often held, "I always wanted to go to Jiangnan with xiao shushu. The two of us sitting on a boat while I play my flute and xiao shushu plays the guzheng, cruising the Yangtze River."

Mu Dishi replied, his voice pragmatic, "You can go anytime you wish."

Ma Jingguo said, a touch of petulance in his tone, "I don't want to go alone. I want to go with xiao shushu."

Mu Dishi replied, a hint of something unreadable in his voice, "You will have to wait a couple of months then."

Ma Jingguo smiled happily, his face brightening with sudden hope, "Xiao shushu, my fifteenth birthday, I want us to go down to Jiangnan."

Mu Dishi replied, a soft, noncommittal sound, "Mmm..."

Now, seeing that Mu Dishi's sword skills were more faster and flawless than before, Ma Jingguo watched, a knot forming in his stomach. The fighting technique of Wuming was to attack with one hand and defend with the other. He watched Mu Dishi's right hand attacking, his left hand defending, and the Seven Stars Sword Formation of Sword Village was no match for him.

Five Sword Village disciples kicked Mu Dishi's leg and tried to stab him at the waist. Mu Dishi jumped, doing a single somersault in mid-air, and sent one of his swords down onto the ground below. He stood at the tip of his right foot onto the sword hilt. He spun himself around on the sword hilt, slitting the five young disciples' eyes with terrifying speed and precision. He did a single backward somersault, landing unharmed on the ground as another five disciples struck at him. Mu Dishi dropped his sword on the ground, took out his black gloves, and put them on.

Ma Jingguo knew very well what was about to be unleashed when Mu Dishi put on his black metal gloves. A wave of dread washed over him. Ma Jingguo called out, his voice desperate, "Yong-xiong... stop attacking!"

Watching the brutality of Mu Dishi's merciless skill, a horrified gasp escaped the onlookers. Kuo Changchang's voice shook. "Too violent." She unsheathed her sword halfway, driven by a desperate need to intervene, but Ma Jingguo pushed her sword back, his hand firm on hers.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, startled.

Ma Jingguo replied, his eyes wide with terror, "I don't want you to be split in half."

As soon as Ma Jingguo finished his sentence, another disciple split in half with a sickening crunch.

Mu Dishi's sharp guzheng strings pierced a disciple's abdomen, and another string wrapped itself tightly onto Yong Taihua's right arm.

"Ge!" Yong Caixia shouted, her voice filled with anguish. She unsheathed her sword and was about to launch herself at Mu Dishi, but Ma Jingguo stopped her, his grip tight.

"You are no match for him," Ma Jingguo said, his voice raw.

"Mu gongzi! Please have mercy!" Yong Hao shouted loudly from the back of the crowd, pushing his way forward.

Mu Dishi, without a word, kicked the injured disciple toward Ma Jingguo, Kuo Changchang, and Yong Caixia. Yong Caixia bent down and helped the injured disciple up, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Yong Hao pleaded, his voice cracking, "Mu gongzi, please have some mercy. Yong Taihua is the only offspring of the Yong. Please spare his right arm and his life."

Mu Dishi said coldly, his gaze fixed on Yong Hao, "Yong dog, you finally decided to show up." Mu Dishi tightened his string that was around Yong Taihua's right arm. Yong Taihua grunted in pain.

Yong Hao pleaded, his face pale with desperation, "Mu gongzi, I am the one that did you wrong. I owe a debt to you. Not him." He took out a knife and began stabbing himself on the leg, his hand trembling but his voice loud as he counted out loud. "One. Two. Three. Four...." He continued stabbing himself, the blood staining his robes.

Ma Jingguo could not watch any longer. After the seventh knife stab, he rushed forward and stopped Yong Hao, grabbing his hand. "Monk Hao," Ma Jingguo said urgently, "if you continue, you will bleed to death." He took the knife away. He walked to Mu Dishi, and he said, his voice shaking slightly but resolute, "Xiao... Mu gongzi, Monk Hao is truly sorry for what he has done. Even if he was part of the campaign, but he had not killed a single person. He felt so bad for what he had done, he even destroyed his own internal energy and became a monk. He also gave proper burial for the villagers. He takes care of the seventy-one graves. I didn't mention all of these because I want to defend him. He is guilty of his crime, but he truly repents. People make mistakes and later regret it. I am sure Mu gongzi has made mistakes in the past. I, myself, had made a mistake that I regret greatly, and if I could return time back to that moment, I will never open my mouth."

Mu Dishi's eyes flickered almost imperceptibly at Ma Jingguo's words, particularly "regret greatly." There were two things that Mu Dishi regretted greatly.

ifteenth birthday, Wang Biming and he sat on a small hill, watching the stars that filled the vast sky above their hidden cave home.

"Dishi, what would you like for your birthday?" Wang Biming asked, his voice soft.

"I don't know," Mu Dishi replied, his gaze on the distant stars.

Wang Biming smiled at Mu Dishi. He moved from sitting beside Mu Dishi and sat behind him, wrapping his arms around Mu Dishi's and holding Mu Dishi's hands. He kissed Mu Dishi's right cheek, his lips warm against his skin. "Tell me. If you don't tell me, next year on my eighteenth birthday, I will not accept your present."

Mu Dishi stammered, his heart pounding, "I... I..."

Wang Biming chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Mu Dishi's back. He picked Mu Dishi up gently and seated Mu Dishi onto his crossed legs, turning Mu Dishi halfway to him. He leaned in and kissed Mu Dishi on the lips, a tender, lingering kiss under the starlight. After some time passed, Wang Biming said softly, his voice filled with gentle longing, "I want my kiss returned to me on my eighteenth birthday." He sniffed Mu Dishi's hair, inhaling his scent. "Dishi, I love you."

Mu Dishi smiled, his heart overflowing, but the words caught in his throat. "I..."

After seeing Mu Dishi struggling with his words and unable to go past the word 'I', Wang Biming chuckled again, a sadder note in the sound this time. "Ah... Dishi," he murmured, "with your shy, thin face. I guess I will never hear you say you love me."

The years that he spent with Wang Biming were short-lived, but the memories lingered even longer. Mu Dishi regretted that he had never told Wang Biming he loved him back. Just as Zu Minsheng was about to slit Wang Biming's throat, Wang Biming had even looked at Mu Dishi who was hidden behind the wall, and smiled and told Mu Dishi he loved him one last time before he died.

Mu Dishi's eyes, which had softened imperceptibly during the memory, hardened again as he focused on Ma Jingguo kneeling before him. He asked coldly, his voice flat, "You are still young, what regret do you have?"

Ma Jingguo replied, his voice low, heavy with the weight of his confession, "I regretted that I opened my mouth, pleading to see the outside world, and ended up never able to return to the place that I belonged to." Ma Jingguo went down on his knees before Mu Dishi.

Mu Dishi looked at the young man who knelt down in front of him. It reminded him of when he chased the young Ma Jingguo out of the cave. He knelt for the entire day, begging for Mu Dishi to open the ten-thousand-pound stone door and promised never to speak of going to Jiangnan again. Mu Dishi regretted chasing Ma Jingguo away. He never really gave Ma Jingguo an explanation of why Ma Jingguo had to leave his side. If after he successfully seeks revenge and survives, he will give Ma Jingguo an explanation because Ma Jingguo deserves one. This was his second regret.

Mu Dishi said coldly, his voice cutting through the tension, "Yong dog, cut off your right arm. Equal trade."

With no hesitation, Yong Hao grabbed Yong Caixia's sword and, with a sharp cry of pain, cut off his own right arm. Blood spurted onto the ground.

"Da ye!" Yong Taihua screamed, his voice filled with anguish. He turned madly, facing Mu Dishi, and sent his inner power into his palm, preparing to attack.

Yong Hao said weakly, falling to his knees, "Hua'er, no... Mu gongzi is right. Equal trade... an arm for an arm." He knelt and kowtowed, his head touching the bloody ground. "Mu gongzi, please forgive this sinner."

Mu Dishi released the string around Yong Taihua's arm, and Yong Taihua ran to the injured Yong Hao, his face pale with shock and fear.

Mu Dishi said coldly, his voice lack of sympathy, "When you meet the Mu in the netherworld, you can ask them for forgiveness." He turned and walked away from the group, toward the path leading to Mu Village. "Now," he declared, his voice carrying back, "we don't owe each other."

"Xiao... Mu gongzi, where are you going?" Ma Jingguo called, his voice filled with sorrow.

Mu Dishi didn't answer Ma Jingguo. He just walked away from the group, a solitary figure, toward Mu Village.

"Ah Chen... What is it?" Kuo Changchang asked, her voice gentle with concern.

Ma Jingguo replied, his gaze fixed on Mu Dishi's retreating back, "I feel sorry for him. He doesn't have anyone beside him other than his shadow."

"Let's go," Kuo Changchang said softly, gesturing toward Yong Hao and his injured son.

Ma Jingguo watched Mu Dishi, and his shadow slowly disappear in the distance. He recalled his mother's last words to him, her voice echoing in his memory, "Your shushu is a very pitiful person, just like me. In this world, we don't have anyone who will be willing to stand beside us other than our shadows'." He murmured hurtfully, a confession to the receding figure, "Xiao shushu, sorry."

"What?" Kuo Changchang asked, her brow furrowed.

"Nothing," Ma Jingguo replied, turning away from the path, the weight of his regret and his shushu's loneliness heavy in his chest.

Slowly retracing the footsteps that were once imprinted into the old road up to Mu Village, Mu Dishi stood in front of the Mu tombstones. The tombstones had no names other than Mu Yu. Mu Dishi didn't know which graves belonged to his parents, his da ye, his Biming, and his mei mei. The old were buried on the right. The young were buried in the middle, and the children were buried on the left. They used to have names, but now they were named Mu gentleman, Mu lady, Mu boy, and Mu girl. Mu Dishi paid his respects to his family members, a somber figure amidst the tall grass, and headed North to Shaolin Sect.