Gou Feng had once imagined growing old in that house, taking care of the man who raised him. He thought that perhaps, if he tried hard enough, his father would one day look at him with love.
But reality was far crueler than the dreams of a child.
The day he finally fled was the day he realized he could endure no more.
He no longer knew whether he wanted to keep living.
All he knew was that if he stayed, he would eventually die.
And perhaps a part of him no longer cared.
Then Hei Bao found him.
For the first time in his life, someone reached out a hand and gave him a reason to keep living.
Someone offered him a place to stay, a purpose, and a future he had never dared to imagine for himself.
For a while, Gou Feng truly believed his life was getting better.
He wanted to live.
He wanted to see what tomorrow might bring.
But years passed, and he grew from a frightened child into an adult.
The more he experienced the world, the more he began to understand the reality of the life he had chosen.
The blood on his hands.
The corpses he buried.
The orders he obeyed without question.
The loneliness that lingered despite everything.
Slowly, the feelings that had once given him hope began to fade.
And now, even after all these years, he found himself questioning whether that desire to live had ever truly belonged to him, or whether it had merely been borrowed from the man who saved him.
As a child, Gou Feng learned far too early that the world could be cruel.
Yet the people you loved could be even crueler.
Perhaps that was why he followed Hei Bao without hesitation when the man offered him a hand.
After all, when the people who were supposed to love you became the source of your suffering, even the kindness of a stranger could feel like salvation.
I mean, where else could he have gone?
If not beside the man who had pulled him back from the edge when he was ready to throw his life away at such a young age.
Where else could he possibly belong in a world that had never wanted him?
In a world that had taught him, time and time again, that he was unwanted, disposable, and easy to forget.
If not beside Hei Bao, then where?
If not with him, then who?
Even now, Gou Feng could not find an answer.
Yet, the same cycle of thought still clung to him.
Did he truly have to do this?
Retrieve corpses.
Dismember them like livestock.
Bury them beneath the soil like seeds that would never bloom.
Could he not refuse?
Could he not walk away from all of this?
But if he disobeyed Hei Bao's orders, what value would he have left to him?
If he failed to meet Hei Bao's expectations…
If he disappointed him…
If Hei Bao lost interest in raising him…
Would he not simply be discarded?
No.
Gou Feng knew too much.
People like him were not simply discarded.
They were instead quickly eliminated.
His gaze drifted toward the freshly covered grave, and a chill ran down his spine.
Perhaps one day he would end up just like the corpses buried beneath this earth.
A forgotten body hidden beneath the soil.
But would Hei Bao kill him?
Would the man who had raised him for so many years really have the heart to do such a thing?
Would he?
Gou Feng thought about it for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh.
Of course, he would.
Who am I to him?
A stray was picked up from the streets.
Given a home.
Given food.
Given a roof over his head.
Nothing more.
Hei Bao would never sympathize with a weapon that had become useless.
Yes.
That was the right word.
A weapon.
To Hei Bao, he was merely a weapon.
Something to be used.
Something to be sharpened.
Something to be thrown away once it could no longer serve its purpose.
Despite those thoughts, Gou Feng could not bring himself to hate the man.
That was the cruelest part.
He was tired.
I'm so tired…
He wanted to disappear.
To leave everything behind and never return.
Yet whenever the thought appeared, another followed.
What would happen to Hei Bao if he left?
The man was already drowning in loneliness.
Wouldn't abandoning him only make that loneliness deeper?
Then what was he supposed to do?
Stay?
Continue living like this?
Continue burying bodies and pretending none of it affected him?
His chest tightened.
His hands trembled.
Slowly, he pulled them against his chest and squeezed his eyes shut.
"It's all right," he whispered.
His voice was barely audible.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
He repeated the words like a prayer.
A ritual.
Something he had taught himself long ago.
"You've done this before. It's all right. It's okay."
Again, and again.
And again.
Gradually, his breathing steadied.
The trembling eased, and the storm inside his mind quieted.
For now, at least the lie was enough to let him keep going.
Placing his right hand on the tree for support, Gou Feng slowly stood up, dusted off his pants, and put his shirt back on.
He took one last look at the grave and left, holding the shovel in his left hand with no promise of inner peace, only the assurance of what he knew to be true.
A comforting assurance that no one would ever find Fei Nian's body, regardless of how thoroughly they searched, because this place is one where no other race can enter without the blessing of the Lycan leader.
Anyone who dares to enter the woods will find themselves trapped by a toxic miasma. Cheung Qi is a cruel invention meant to keep intruders at bay.
The miasma, a relentless force, is always active and has never been deactivated, even when Gou Feng, who is already immune to its effects, is nearby.
The miasma is merciless. It wraps around a person with the cold efficiency of a leech, claiming their life in mere seconds.
This brutal, unfeeling mechanism gives the woods their unsettling stench of rotting corpses throughout the woods, including the entrance. Each corpse has a distinct odor, which helps Gou Feng avoid getting lost.
Only those whose immune systems have accepted the pack leader's blood can withstand the poison and escape its deadly grip. For everyone else, the woods are a suffocating trap, a grim reminder of Cheung Qi's ruthless foresight.
Even if someone manages to enter and exit, they still won't be able to find Fei Nian's corpse, for Gou Feng ensured her body was planted in soil swarming with worms and maggots, making his job thoroughly clean.
Continuing his journey, the view of the grave slowly faded as he reached the side of the road where his car was just ten steps away.
He kept walking, but suddenly, a wave of dizziness attacked him.
He quickly stopped on his track, squinted, and shook his head, trying to understand what had happened. He looked down at the ground, closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself.
When he opened his eyes again, he noticed red ants marching on the road, carrying food. This sight somehow triggered inside him, causing him to frown and become puzzled.
"Ge!" The voice of a young child suddenly echoes behind him, startling him so much that he spins around, desperately searching for the source. But the area was empty, leaving him feeling a wave of confusion and unease.
Shaking off the strange feeling, Gou Feng strode swiftly to his car and climbed inside, his breath coming in ragged gasps as if he had just run a marathon.
What was happening to him?
Had the pack leader's blood lost its effect?
Was the miasma consuming him from the inside out?
No.
That was impossible.
He had entered this place countless times before. He had walked through the miasma, breathed it into his lungs, and emerged unharmed every single time.
This had never happened before.
A cold shiver ran down his spine as another wave of discomfort coursed through his body.
Something was wrong, and whatever was happening to him now, it was not the miasma.
It had to be something else.
He sank into the driver's seat and leaned forward, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to rest, if only for a few minutes.
He was exhausted.
Physically, mentally, emotionally.
But the moment silence settled around him, that familiar dream returned.
Or rather, those memories.
The strange memories he had been seeing every night for the past three days.
The same memories he had yet to tell Hei Bao about.
At first, he thought they were ordinary dreams.
Now, he wasn't so sure.
"A-Hua, did you wander into the woods again?" a middle-aged man's voice scolded gently.
"Didn't I tell you it's dangerous? What if you got lost? What if a wild animal found you? How would we ever find you?"
The voice echoed clearly inside his mind, worried and loving.
Then another voice followed, younger and warmer.
"A-Hua, don't cry. Gege is sorry."
The young man laughed softly, trying to comfort someone.
"I'm not angry. I'm just worried about you. What if you got lost? Mom and Dad are working. It's only the two of us at home, and Aunt isn't here either. How am I supposed to find you if you disappear?"
The affection in that voice was unbearable.
Gou Feng's eyes snapped open.
His chest tightened. For some reason, tears blurred his vision.
He didn't understand.
He didn't know these people.
He had never met them.
Yet hearing their voices felt like losing something precious all over again.
A painful lump formed in his throat.
His breathing became uneven as an ache spread through his chest, so intense that he had to bend forward and press his forehead against the steering wheel.
The grief felt real.
Too real.
As if he were remembering people he had once loved.
As if he had lost them.
But that was impossible.
Those memories weren't his.
So why did they hurt so much?
Why did hearing those voices make him feel lonely?
Why did he miss people he had never met?
A shaky breath escaped him.
"What is happening to me… who are those people?"
His voice trembled.
"Where are these memories coming from?"
A tear slid down his cheek.
"Why do they feel so real?"
More tears followed.
"Why does it hurt so much?"
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
For the first time since the memories began, Gou Feng felt genuinely confused and afraid of what was going on.