The Story

"That was probably in the summer when I was seven. My parents and I went hiking. I was very brave back then and loved to climb dangerous cliffs. My sense of balance was excellent, and I walked on those narrow, steep mountain paths as if I were on level ground."

"On this particular occasion, we had climbed halfway up the mountain. It was drizzling, but I stepped onto a natural, suspended stone bridge as usual. I still remember the undulating mountains. Rainwater flowed down the ridges, gathering into countless tiny streams that leaped through the mountains like playful sprites, eventually merging into the river at the foot of the mountain, making a babbling sound."

"Stop, stop right there," Drake interrupted, frowning and holding up a hand to stop Ma Zhaodi. "We're not Sherlock Holmes, and you don't need to hook your readers like Watson. Can you get to the point?"

"Isn't it nice, though?" Mrs. Camilla said with a smile, gently patting Drake. "Mr. Ma Zhaodi has quite a talent for storytelling."

"In short, I fell off the cliff while climbing and landed in a cave."

Ma Zhaodi immediately simplified his story: "Inside the cave, there was a Santa Claus roasting a reindeer. He told me that if I told someone about falling into the cave, he could cure all their illnesses. Then he rode off on the remaining eight reindeer."

"..." Ma Zhaodi's few words made Mrs. Camilla unable to smile: "Ma Zhaodi, I'm a Christian."

"Ah, sorry," Ma Zhaodi shrugged. "At least we know Santa Claus is real now."

"Hmm?"

Drake subconsciously looked at Camilla, and then his pupils contracted sharply.

Ma Zhaodi crossed his legs and hummed a tune, feeling an inexplicable sense of relief.

"The old tree by the gate sprouted new buds, the dead wood in the yard bloomed again~"

Strands of black hair grew from her bald head, like new shoots on a willow branch in early spring. In just a few seconds, her waterfall-like golden hair cascaded down to her waist. Her shriveled body began to fill out, returning to a shapely female figure. Her pale, loose skin quickly became rosy and firm again, no longer sickly pale.

Watching his wife, who had been tormented by illness for years, transform back into that beautiful, captivating woman in seconds, tears welled up in Drake's eyes.

She was so beautiful. Just like the first time he saw her.

Camilla looked at her smooth, fair hands, which had become so again. She subconsciously caressed the golden hair falling over her shoulder and leaned into Drake's embrace, shedding silent tears.

"So many unspoken words in my life—"

Ma Zhaodi continued to hum a song they didn't understand. Drake held his wife, who stood frozen, speechless for a moment.

He had endured so long with her, enduring until her hair fell out, her body withered, and her face dimmed; enduring until she grew weak, broken, and almost withered away.

She had endured so long with him, enduring until he lost his job, sold his house, and depleted his savings; enduring until he grew pained, desperate, and hysterical.

I almost couldn't make it, she thought, I almost gave up.

Thankfully, we made it through, he thought, thankfully, I didn't give up.

My first 'Life Recovery' is gone, 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?"

"About a year. Why do you ask?"

"You've been waiting for Victor for a whole year?"

"Eight months, to be exact. Dr. Victor went missing after that accident. I've been trying to contact his former business partners, but they died too quickly. So, I've been looking for clues about Mr. Freeze recently."

"It's good that you haven't found him."

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

Drake immediately understood what Ma Zhaodi meant. "I'll do my best to help you find some safe jobs suitable for outsiders. But you must remember, there are no truly clean jobs in Gotham. If you want to live here, we have to abandon our moral bottom line. It's all about survival."

"That might be difficult," Ma Zhaodi sighed. "Given my physique, murder and arson are unlikely. And with my intelligence and skills, theft and fraud would probably get me caught on the spot. I don't want to rely on my looks to latch onto some rich gangster woman who likes to stab people, nor can I make money with my terrible writing here—"

"Alright, alright, no need to say more." Drake waved his hand. After Ma Zhaodi finished the first two sentences, he only had half the jobs left in mind. After Ma Zhaodi finished the last two, he only had three left.

"Let me confirm," he said, trying to phrase it more tactfully. "Besides writing, do you have any other skills?"

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

"Cleaning, cooking, that sort of thing?"

Ma Zhaodi gave an awkward yet polite smile. "A little, but not much. Enough to keep me alive."

"..."

They looked at each other. In the awkward silence, Drake asked, "Do you have any money?"

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

"... How about you consider going back to the cave to find Santa Claus?"

Ma Zhaodi also realized his request was a bit unreasonable and coughed awkwardly. "Ahem, as long as the job is relatively safe."

Drake thought hard, then something came to mind. "How about waiting tables?"

"No problem!"

Seeing Ma Zhaodi agree, Drake breathed a sigh of relief. "Gotham is different from other cities. All the businesses, big and small, are controlled and protected by the mob, or even run by them. I've built up some connections in the past year, and maybe I can help you find a job in a restaurant to get your foot in the door. But you should know, no matter what job you take, you'll have some contact with the mob."

"As long as they don't ask me to help them stab people while I'm working, and no one tries to stab me while I'm working, then the rest of the problems aren't a big deal."

Hearing this, Drake snapped his fingers lightly and took out his phone to make a call. "Since you say that, then there's no problem."

"Ring ring ring— Ring ring ring—"

"Hello?"

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

"Bang!"

Ma Zhaodi clearly heard a gunshot from the other side of the phone.