I Am Tired Of Being A Hero-Chapter 296: Don’t look back
Many years ago, a small boat drifted across the silent river. A young man sat at the fore, and another young man stood in the rear. As they glided forward, ripples spread behind them, dissolving into the mist that hung over the water.
The young man who sat at the fore wore a silk blue robe. His black eyes were deep and bottomless, like the river beneath them.
"Brother, are you still upset? I don’t understand why you are so angry."
The other young man was standing in the rear; his golden eyes, cold and unreadable, flickered as he watched the mist swirl over the water.
"What do you think would happen if you keep her by your side? Fengdu, when you see her roaming the horizons, desire will bloom in you. You were born from the wind. Eventually, you will follow your heart and embark on a bumpy path. The Netherworld is still young. What do you think would happen then?"
The young man nodded, but he did not listen.
They were two brothers, one born from the wind, the other born from the river that flows through this world. By Heaven’s mandate, they were destined to rule and guard the Netherworld.
The first time the young King Yama fell for someone, he had followed his heart, turning the heavens and earth upside down and harming the Netherworld.
When he had returned, his brother had taken his eyes as punishment.
King Yama had not held it against the Netherworld Emperor. The past is the cause, and the future is the effect. Causality becomes karma.
The entire mountain was covered in ice. The plants on the mountain instantly turned into ice statues and froze in place, unmoving. As the chill spread, snowflakes gradually floated down.
Malik did not know how long he had been sitting here, but suddenly he could ’see’ the faint outline of a man and a young boy walking forward in the snow.
Malik heard a whisper calling out to him; the sound seemed to be tugging at his soul.
He stood up and walked silently forward in the snowstorm with a hint of bafflement. The snow was falling heavily, and it covered the sky, causing him to be unable to see the stars hanging in the sky.
Malik saw himself. He was wearing a long white robe with a black silk covering his eyes; his countenance was gentle. He stopped and turned as if he could see Malik through the snow, and all Malik could fear was coldness and mercilessness from this person.
A young boy held the man’s hand and looked curiously at the boat in the river. "Master? Why are we here?"
"Place your emotions in the boat. When you turn around, do not take them away."
The man seemed to be talking to the young boy, and at the same time, it was as if he was crossing time and space to talk to him as well.
Malik felt shaken and took a step back. The world around him shifted. Before him stretched a breathtaking mountain with a simple, small courtyard in the middle.
The memories began to trickle in.
As Fengdu, Malik never stepped out of line after his first fall. He had a lot of lovers, yet his heart remained untouched. For millions of years, he had carefully carried out his duties every day.
But his brother, the flawless Netherworld Emperor, had gone against the Heavens. Obsessed with artifacts, his brother had created a soul.
A sin against the fabrics of Heaven itself, not only had he created a soul, but the Netherworld Emperor claimed the soul as his, falling in love with him.
The 10,000-year war between the Heavens and the Netherworld began. Thunder Tribulation fell upon the Netherworld every second, forcefully exorcising ghosts and officials.
The damage had been immense; the Netherworld never fully recovered, and Fengdu had been chosen as the warden of his brother’s punishment.
Fengdu had been alone in a war-ravaged world. Brick by brick, he began to repair the Netherworld by himself.
He hated the way emotions had hurt the very world they were born to protect, and so Fengdu had locked them all up. He had thrown them in the river and never looked back.
The environment looked more familiar as Malik walked forward. The next moment, a chuckle—deep as a rumbling drum—traveled into his ears from afar. He immediately started trembling, his legs moving hastily.
A tall man was roasting a fish for a beautiful man. Laughter echoed in the air, light and carefree.
Alvar. Anouk.
Malik felt his heart clenching in pain. He appeared in front of them, gazing at the familiar people before him sitting in the snow holding hands as they uttered familiar words.
He could ’see’ them.
Yet they could not see him.
"Are you still mad? Don’t be mad. I would not roast fish for any other person, just you, okay?"
"I am not mad." Yet, he had been angry—so much so that, even as he insisted otherwise, the frustration burned beneath his skin. Alvar was just like one of the countless lovers he had, not important enough for him to risk anything.
Malik did not know how long he followed them around, sitting close, listening as they chatted- lost in their world, yet he was unable to enter it.
"Fenfen, I like you. I like you a lot."
Then the man’s confessions were naïve and sincere. He did not know how to flatter his lover and could only coax him simply, as if pulling out his heart to prove his sincerity.
What a fool! He had sent him to his death, and yet Alvar looked at him as if he had hung the moon in the sky.
"Fenfen! They posted me to Styx. Would you come and visit me? Promise me?"
"That is a promise."
The moment Malik heard those words again, the pain in his heart reached its peak. His face turned pale, and he took a staggering step back. His chest clenched in pain, and his fingers dug into his flesh, as if he was trying to stop his anguished heart from beating so that he would not be in pain again.
It hurts so much.
"Place your emotions in the boat. When you turn around, do not take them away."
