Chapter 6: Story

"That was probably during the summer when I was seven. My parents and I went mountain climbing. Back then, I was very bold and loved walking along those dangerous cliffs and precipices. My sense of balance was excellent; traversing those narrow, cramped mountain paths felt as easy as walking on flat ground."

"On that particular occasion, we had climbed halfway up the mountain. A fine rain was falling, yet just as usual, I stepped onto a natural stone bridge suspended in mid-air. I still remember those undulating peaks; rainwater flowed down the ridges, gathering into countless tiny streams that leaped through the mountains like mischievous elves, finally merging into the river at the foot of the mountain, emitting a gentle gurgling—"

"Stop, stop right there." Drake frowned, extending a hand to halt Ma Ma Zhaodi from continuing: "We aren't Sherlock Holmes, and you don't need to attract readers with descriptions like Watson. Can we just get straight to the point?"

"Isn't it quite nice, though?" Lady Camilla smiled and gently patted Drake: "Mr. Ma Ma Zhaodi actually has quite a talent for storytelling."

"In short, while I was climbing, I fell off a cliff and landed inside a cave."

Ma Ma Zhaodi immediately simplified his story: "Inside the cave, there was a Santa Claus roasting a reindeer. He told me that if I recounted this story of falling into the cave to someone, it would cure that person of all illnesses. Then he rode away on the remaining eight reindeer."

"." Ma Ma Zhaodi's few words rendered Lady Camilla unable to laugh: "Ma Ma Zhaodi, I am a Christian."

"Ah, sorry." Ma Ma Zhaodi shrugged: "At least we now know that Santa Claus truly exists."

"Hm?"

Drake instinctively looked at Camilla, immediately after which his pupils contracted sharply.

Ma Ma Zhaodi crossed his legs, humming a tune, feeling an inexplicable sense of relief in his heart.

"Old trees before the door grow new sprouts, withered wood in the courtyard blooms again~"

Strand by strand, black hair grew from her bald scalp, like willow branches sprouting new buds in early spring; within mere seconds, a waterfall of golden long hair cascaded down to her waist. Her shriveled body began to fill out gradually, returning to a graceful, curvaceous feminine figure; her pale, sagging skin rapidly became ruddy and firm, no longer displaying a sickly pallor.

Watching his wife, who had been tortured by illness for several years, transform back into that beautiful and moving woman within mere seconds, tears inevitably welled up in Drake's eyes.

So beautiful... just like the first time he saw her.

Camilla looked at her hands, which had become smooth and white once again, instinctively caressing the golden long hair hanging over her shoulders, and leaned against Drake's chest, shedding tears silently.

"Half a lifetime's worth of words stored up—"

Ma Ma Zhaodi continued humming softly a song the two could not understand, while Drake held his wife, who stood frozen in place, finding himself momentarily unable to speak a single word.

He had endured alongside her for so very long, enduring until her hair fell out completely, until her body became emaciated, and her face grew dim; enduring until she gradually grew weak, broken, and nearly withered away.

She had endured alongside him for so very long, enduring until he lost his job, until he sold their house, and exhausted their savings; enduring until he gradually became painful, desperate, and hysterical.

We almost couldn't endure any longer, she thought; I was almost about to give up.

Fortunately, we endured, he thought; fortunately, I did not give up.

My first life's rapid recovery is gone, Ma Ma Zhaodi thought; Drake had better find me a reliable job.

The next day.

"Drake, how long have you and your wife been in Gotham?"

"Almost a year. Why do you ask?"

"You waited for Victor for a whole year?"

"To be precise, it was eight months. After eight months, Dr. Victor went missing in that accident. I have been trying to contact the companies he once collaborated with, but they died far too quickly, so recently I have been searching for clues regarding Mr. Freeze."

"Fortunately, you haven't found any."

Ma Ma Zhaodi shrugged: "Since you've been here for a year, you must have established some connections and channels, right?"

Drake immediately understood the implication behind Ma Ma Zhaodi's words: "I will do my utmost to help you find some jobs suitable for outsiders that aren't too dangerous, but you must remember: in Gotham, there is no such thing as a truly clean job. If we wish to live well here, we can only abandon our moral bottom line; everything is solely for survival."

"That's a bit difficult." Ma Ma Zhaodi sighed: "Given my physique, murder and arson aren't realistic; and judging by my intelligence and skills, theft and fraud would likely get me caught on the spot. I neither want to rely on this face to snag a wealthy socialite who enjoys hacking people, nor can I use my failed writings to earn money here—"

"Alright, alright, no need to say more." Drake waved his hand; after Ma Ma Zhaodi finished the first two sentences, the selectable jobs in his mind were reduced by half, and after Ma Ma Zhaodi finished the last two sentences, only three options remained in his mind.

"Let me confirm something." He tried his best to make his wording more tactful: "Aside from writing, do you possess any other skills?"

"Driving, counting." Ma Ma Zhaodi tilted his head and thought for a moment: "That's it."

"What about cleaning, cooking, and the like?"

Ma Ma Zhaodi displayed an awkward yet polite smile: "A little, but not much; just enough to ensure I stay alive."

"."

The two stared at each other; amidst this strange atmosphere, Drake asked: "Then do you have any money?"

"If I had money, why would I be looking for work?"

"... Perhaps you should consider going back to that cave to look for Santa Claus again?"

Ma Ma Zhaodi also realized his demands were somewhat unreasonable and coughed twice in slight embarrassment: "Ahem, as long as the job is relatively safe, that's fine."

Drake pondered deeply, then thought of something: "How about serving tables?"

"No problem!"

Seeing Ma Ma Zhaodi agree, Drake breathed a sigh of relief: "Gotham is different from other cities; industries of all sizes are controlled and protected by gangs, with some outright operated by them. During this past year, I've also built up one connection; perhaps I can help you find a job in a restaurant that can serve as a foothold. However, you must know that whatever job you take, it will involve some connection with the gangs."

"As long as they don't require me to help carry a knife and hack people while I'm working, and no one comes to hack me with a knife while I'm working, then the remaining issues aren't significant."

Hearing this, Drake lightly snapped his fingers, took out his phone, and began dialing: "Since you put it that way, then there's no problem."

"Ring-ring— Ring-ring—"

"Hello?"

After ringing for a full two minutes, the call was finally answered; from the other end came a rough male voice: "Drake, what do you need from me?"

"Bang!"

Ma Ma Zhaodi heard it clearly; the sound of a gunshot rang out from the other end of the phone.

(End of Chapter)