This intense pain, like a strong acid, instantly corroded the phantom of the lofty throne and the cold memory of killing.
Instead, there is another, more primitive, deeper coldness - an eternal coldness that comes from the initial complete denial of life and being abandoned like garbage.
It turns out that the feeling of being abandoned was so deeply ingrained in him. So deeply that no matter who he became, mortal or god, he could not escape it.
It is so deep that every "betrayal" seems to be a replay of the desperate scene in the dark corridor.
Abandoned by her mother.
Being ignored by my father...
Then, he himself, in countless reincarnations, abandoned and killed the only person who loved him...
This thought was like a poisoned ice cone, piercing into the heart!
At this moment, another dazzling "light" suddenly pierced into the endless torrent of cold and bloody debris!
It is not the divine glow, nor the darkness of memory, but the cold and sharp flash effect unique to modern electronic equipment!
“Crack!”
An extremely slight shutter sound, but it was like thunder in his confused consciousness!
The picture switched instantly, and the clarity suddenly increased to a heart-pounding level.
The perspective is voyeuristic, with a sickening, condescending feeling of voyeurism. The camera is hidden in a corner of dense greenery, accurately capturing its target through the gaps between the branches and leaves.
In the center of the picture was a younger version of himself—Chao Youye. His short black hair shone softly under the dim streetlights, and he lowered his head slightly.
He was wearing a simple white T-shirt and dark school pants, and his figure was thin and upright, a typical teenager. And the person he half-held in his arms was Mu Xinrong.
Mu Xinrong's profile was crystal clear in the camera. His eyes were closed, his long eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow under his eyelids, and his cheeks were slightly flushed.
His lips, with the softness and healthy color unique to young people, were slightly raised, and with a kind of complete trust and youthful throbbing, they were gently pressed on Chao Youye's lips.
The dim light from the street lamp was like a stage spotlight, just covering the two of them.
Everything around him faded into a blurry background. Time seemed to stand still at this moment, leaving only the awkwardness, nervousness, and pure, transparent beauty of the boy's first kiss.
The camera greedily, even with a barely perceptible tremor (perhaps the photographer's excitement), infinitely magnifies and freezes this moment of intimacy.
Every detail was so clear it was breathtaking: Chao Youye's slightly pursed lips, Mu Xinrong's fingers, slightly curled up due to nervousness, resting on the fabric of Chao Youye's school uniform at the waist...
This secretly filmed scene is pure in beauty, but because of its voyeuristic nature, it exudes a kind of malice that can make one's back chill.
Then, the picture shook violently, blurred, and switched like a water surface with a stone thrown into it!
It was no longer a candid camera perspective, but a first-person perspective - he was standing in that huge, luxurious, and cold study that was as cold as a tomb.
The heavy mahogany desk was like a silent hill. My father sat in the large, high-backed leather chair behind the desk, facing south.
He was dressed in a perfectly tailored dark grey suit, meticulously executed. His face was expressionless, save for his worldly-wise eyes, sharp as scalpels, which coldly examined him through an invisible wall of ice.
Then, the southbound hand moved.
The bony hand wearing a low-key and expensive watch gently but with great force pushed a photo onto the mirror-smooth table.
It was the same secretly taken photo from earlier! The clarity was so high that even the tiny hairs on Mu Xinrong's face, reflected in the streetlight, were clearly visible!
The scene of two teenagers kissing, in the cold and empty study, under the cold gaze of their father, seemed so abrupt, so glaring, and so...unbearable.
"Explain?" My father's voice was low and steady, with no emotion in it. But it was like an undercurrent beneath the ice, containing enough pressure to crush a person.
Chao Youye felt his blood freeze at that moment. He could even "see" his face turning pale instantly and the shaky calm he was forcibly maintaining.
He was instantly overwhelmed by immense shame, anger, and the chilling feeling of having his privacy completely exposed in the most despicable way.
But the scene didn't linger on his reaction. The camera suddenly turned, as if the camera had lost control and swung towards the study door!
The heavy carved wooden door opened a crack.
Behind the gap, half a face is hidden.
It’s Wu Zeyu!
He was obviously eavesdropping and peeking. On that face that inherited his mother's soft features, where was the usual obedient, gentle, and timid look in front of others?
The corners of his mouth curled up uncontrollably, the arc becoming larger and larger, eventually forming an undisguised grin full of triumphant satisfaction and sinister mockery!
Those eyes, like poisoned glass beads, flashed with the excitement of a wolf seeing its prey fall into a trap! He even shrugged his shoulders slightly out of excitement.
That smile, that look, was like a red-hot iron, burning Chao Youye's confused consciousness!
"boom--!"
All the fragments - the cold throne, the endless killing, the mother's departing back, the photo pushed by the father, Wu Zeyu's grinning face - reached the peak of chaos at this moment!
They no longer appeared one after another, but were madly superimposed, intertwined, and torn apart by each other! The voices of millions of people worshiping, Mu Xinrong's desperate eyes before death, the loud bang of his mother slamming the door, his father's cold and ruthless "Explain?", Wu Zeyu's sickening grin.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
