Although I knew they had chosen to sever their fingers between the two options, hearing such heart-wrenching screams still sent a chill down my spine. Even though I had looked down on them before, I couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for them at this moment.
"Go tell them they must leave the city immediately. They can return only after six months. If they come back earlier, or sneak back, they will have no one to blame when they lose their lives."
Although I didn't understand why the master gave such an order, since he said so, I conveyed the message exactly as he instructed.
When the two of them heard my words, they looked at me with disbelief, questioning me. "Are you sure we can't come back for six months?"
I repeated the message clearly, making sure I didn't miss any detail. "Believe it or not, the master said you must leave immediately. Come back in six months. If you return before that, or secretly come back, you will lose your life. Don't blame anyone but yourselves."
Although I had felt some sympathy for them earlier, their questioning irritated me, so my tone wasn't as polite this time.
Mr. Xu noticed my annoyance, but his primary concern wasn't my feelings. He rushed directly to the master.
"Master, can we delay for a day or two? I have many things left to handle at the company. If I leave now, it could cause major problems for the business."
"I think I've made myself clear," the master said, his tone firm. "You must leave now, with no time to pack. If you stay even one moment longer, I can't guarantee your safety."
The master's words were even more decisive than mine.
Threatened by the prospect of losing their lives, Mr. Xu didn't dare waste any time. He didn't even bother bandaging his finger and quickly wrapped it with a cloth, turning and rushing out with Mrs. Xu.
From the window, I saw him take out a phone and make a call. Even though I couldn't hear what he was saying, I could easily guess. It was probably to make sure someone was watching over the master and me, to prevent us from taking anything from his house, and to give instructions about the situation.
It was impressive that, even when his life was at risk, he still thought about his wealth.
Once we returned to the room, I saw that the master had somehow obtained two cloth dolls, each with their birthdates attached. Upon seeing me, he turned to me and said, "You're just in time. Take these dolls, and remove the threads on the back. Then place these two fingers inside them."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I glanced at the bloody little fingers on the table. Just looking at them made my stomach churn, and now I was supposed to insert these into the dolls? The mere thought made me want to refuse.
The master noticed my hesitation. "You can choose not to do it. But if you don't, then you will become the scapegoat. Regardless of what happens, she will come for you."
"I'll do it, I'll do it!"
I hadn't realized the master could be so manipulative. He knew I disliked bloody things, yet used my own life as a comparison. Earlier, I had looked down on Mr. and Mrs. Xu, but now, I found myself looking down on myself.
I picked up the two fingers on the table—one thicker, the other thinner. It was clear which one belonged to a man and which one to a woman. I then went to the kitchen, found a knife, and began to carefully cut the threads from the back of the dolls.
To be honest, this was delicate work. If I wasn't careful, I could ruin the fabric.
It seemed the maker was too stingy, leaving barely an inch of fabric where the stitching was.
After a few unsuccessful attempts, I became impatient and wanted to just tear them open. But the master suddenly reminded me that if I did that, I would have to sew it all back together myself. I was stunned.
You had me insert fingers, and now you want me to thread a needle? Did you pick the wrong person? How could a rough guy like me do this?
But as it turns out, if you put your mind to something, there's nothing you can't do. After some struggle, I finally managed to remove the threads. The master told me there wasn't much time left, so I quickly threaded the needle, inserted the fingers into the dolls, and sewed them back up in a matter of minutes.
When I handed the two dolls back to the master, he looked at me with a smile. "I didn't know you were so good at sewing. You did a fine job."
"I had to learn. Being from a poor family, you have to learn to do everything yourself." I scratched my head awkwardly.
"Good. Make sure you cherish this experience. It will help you a lot in the future."
The preparations were complete, and night had arrived.
As the night approached, I grew increasingly nervous. When people get nervous, they often don't know what to do. But for me, when I get nervous, I just want to eat.
"Growl..."
At that moment, my stomach betrayed me with an ungracious growl. Embarrassed, I quickly covered my stomach, pretending I hadn't heard anything.
The master turned to look at me. "Are you nervous?"
I was a little confused. Shouldn't he be asking if I was hungry instead of whether I was nervous?
"I..."
Before I could finish, the master stared out the window, as if reminiscing.
"I once knew a person who, just like you, got nervous not because they needed to use the restroom, but because they were hungry, and not just a little hungry—craving something specific."
I was surprised by the master's words. Did that person no longer exist, which is why the master looked so nostalgic?
"Was that person close to you, master?"
The master didn't answer. Instead, he changed the topic. "It's still early. Let me take you out for dinner. This might be our last meal together."
I had been in a relatively calm mood, but after hearing that, I felt like I was eating a "last meal."
"I trust you, master. With your abilities, we'll definitely make it through tonight safely. Let's quickly find something to eat. We can't just have dinner in someone else's house, can we?"
With that, we left Mr. Xu's house and searched for a place to eat in the neighborhood. After a long while, we couldn't find anywhere, so we ended up leaving the neighborhood and settling for a quick meal at a roadside stall.
If someone were to say this was a "last meal," no one would believe it, right?
Who would believe a last meal could be so simple—just a bowl of beef noodles?