Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

"Brother Jie! I'm willing! Your disciple, Ma Zhixiong, is willing to become Brother Jie's disciple! From now on, I will follow Brother Jie's lead without question. If I have any disloyal intentions, may I be struck by lightning and die a horrible death!"

His voice trembled slightly with excitement, but his tone was unusually firm.

Beyond the burning desire within, there are also practical considerations—once you're on this ship, don't expect to get off easily.

Get up.

A satisfied smile appeared on Zhang Wenjie's face, and he reached out to offer a helping hand.

"Don't try those old-fashioned oaths and swearing in front of me. I don't like hearing them, and I don't believe in them."

His voice turned cold.

"Because... no one has ever truly betrayed me and still managed to live a good life."

These words, spoken casually, instantly soaked Ma Zhixiong's back with cold sweat. He quickly stood up, hands at his sides, and said respectfully, "Yes, Brother Jie! Zhixiong understands!"

"Very good." Zhang Wenjie nodded and beckoned, "Come here."

Ma Zhixiong stepped forward as instructed.

Zhang Wenjie raised his right hand, palm up, and gently placed it on the Baihui acupoint on the top of Ma Zhixiong's head.

He focused his mind on the system and used his "moral points" again to simulate a gentle but not negligible "energy flow," which he slowly poured into Ma Zhixiong's body through the contact of his palms.

Ma Zhixiong trembled!

He clearly felt a gentle yet firm warm current flowing into his Baihui acupoint on the top of his head, like a babbling brook, instantly circulating throughout his entire body!

Wherever it went, the muscles seemed to relax a bit, the slight soreness in the joints quietly disappeared, and the fatigue that had been lurking for days was swept away!

Finally, this warm current seemed to have a life of its own, converging at the Yintang acupoint in the center of his forehead, leaving a lingering, cool, and comfortable aftertaste, as if a third eye was about to open.

I felt lighter and more relaxed than ever before, and even my hearing and vision improved!

This isn't a psychological effect; it's a real physical sensation!

"This...this is?!" Ma Zhixiong was both surprised and delighted. He looked up at Zhang Wenjie, his eyes filled with unbelievable elation and even deeper awe.

"This is a reward for your performance tonight and for choosing to join us."

Zhang Wenjie withdrew his hand, his tone indifferent, as if he had just done something insignificant.

"Your body is long past the prime age for martial arts foundation building. Your meridians are stagnant, and your qi and blood are deficient. That 'true qi' just now contained a trace of my original essence, cultivated through many years of hard work. It will remain in your body and slowly circulate on its own, subtly cleansing your marrow and improving your constitution."

"In the future, you will gradually feel your strength increase, your reaction speed increase, and your energy become more vigorous... Of course, this will take time, and you will also need to cooperate with me in practicing the basic methods I teach you."

He cleverly packaged the system's functions as "transfer of skills" and "foundation building," which are common in martial arts novels.

People of this era, especially Ma Zhixiong who had spent his life in the lower echelons of the martial arts world and read countless martial arts novels, were highly accepting of this kind of setting.

With such a gem preceding him—Zhang Wenjie's miraculous "disguise" (which he interpreted as the application of profound internal strength) and the genuine feeling of "transferring power" with a wave of his hand—he was convinced of this!

"Thank you, Brother Jie! No, thank you, Master!!" Ma Zhixiong's voice trembled with excitement, and he was about to kneel down and kowtow again, but Zhang Wenjie stopped him with a look.

"Let's skip the formalities." Zhang Wenjie waved his hand and sat back down. "It's still early, and we need to keep up the 'fugitive' chase for a while. Let's go get something to eat first."

"Brother Jie, where are we going now?" Ma Zhixiong asked hurriedly, his attitude even more respectful than before, a heartfelt reverence for his "master" and "power".

"To Wan Chai Ferry Pier."

Zhang Wenjie gazed at the faint lights of the city in the distance, a meaningful smile playing on his lips.

"Aunt Zhuang's dumplings are famous far and wide, a must-try for late-night snacks. Anyway... that self-righteous fool Qian Wendi, even with what he thinks is a 'treasure map,' can't escape my grasp. Let him be happy for a while."

His tone conveyed complete control, which instilled a sense of unease in Ma Zhixiong, making him even more determined not to harbor any disloyal thoughts.

"No problem, Brother Jie!"

Ma Zhixiong responded loudly, skillfully maneuvering the speedboat to head towards the Wan Chai pier.

He was still the same Ma Zhixiong who obeyed orders, but deep in his heart, a raging flame called "ambition" and "possibility" had been ignited.

The persistent coolness emanating from his forehead constantly reminded him that everything that had happened tonight was not a dream, and filled him with unprecedented longing and anticipation for the future.

The speedboat sliced ​​through the inky black sea and headed towards the brightly lit city, quietly leaving behind the thrilling escape and the deadly maritime battle.

After changing out of his wet, sea-smelling prison uniform, Zhang Wenjie put on the civilian clothes that Ma Zhixiong had prepared in advance.

A dark gray cotton tracksuit and a pair of ordinary rubber-soled shoes, simple and unremarkable.

The landing site was on the edge of a remote small cargo terminal, far from the main shipping channel and passenger area. Only a few dim streetlights shone forlornly, illuminating the rusty gantry cranes and piles of old, discarded containers.

"Let's go back."

Zhang Wenjie straightened his collar and gave instructions to Ma Zhixiong, who was standing solemnly to the side, in a calm voice.

"Remember, once you get back, check on the situation on the second basement level immediately. That 'Zhang Wenjie'... must have stable vital signs and remain as is. Any routine checks or unexpected visits must be handled according to our pre-arranged plan."

He paused, a seemingly casual yet undeniably authoritative smile spreading across his face. He patted Ma Zhixiong on the shoulder and added, "Better safe than sorry. If anyone... I mean, if any fool dares to barge in without permission, or try to 'interrogate' someone alone... you know what to do."

His smile was somewhat blurred in the dim light, but his eyes were sharp as knives, clearly conveying the unspoken message: "Get rid of him. Clean him up. Understand?"

Ma Zhixiong's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately straightened his back, saying in a low voice, "Understood, Brother Jie! Don't worry, I know what's important."

He knew that the half-dead man in the second basement level, who looked like Zhang Wenjie, was the key prop in tonight's "escape from the cicada's shell" drama, and absolutely no mistakes could be made.

Anyone who tries to uncover the secret must disappear.

"Okay, go ahead." Zhang Wenjie waved his hand.

Ma Zhixiong said no more, bowed respectfully, turned and walked quickly to an inconspicuous old car parked in the shadows not far away. He started the car and silently disappeared into the night, heading towards Stanley Prison.