Chapter 552 - 201: Sixteen Years Flash By, Father Passes Away, Life Force Index 108,000
Chapter 552: Chapter 201: Sixteen Years Flash By, Father Passes Away, Life Force Index 108,000
He showed no signs of life.
Qin Feng walked over to his father.
He could clearly sense the Primordial Acupoint within his father’s body—the one that had accompanied him his entire life—still pulsing instinctively, faintly.
The Spiritual Energy within the Primordial Acupoint was dissipating at an extremely slow rate.
A Martial Artist’s whale fall.
A piece of paper was placed neatly on the coffee table.
It was a last letter.
The thin sheet of paper lay quietly on the coffee table, as if it bore the weight of a man’s entire life.
Qin Feng’s gaze fell upon the familiar, powerful calligraphy on the paper.
It was his father’s handwriting. Every character seemed to have been carved into the very fibers of the page with the last vestiges of his life’s strength.
He reached out. His fingertips paused for a fraction of a second upon touching the paper before he slowly picked it up.
Ah Feng:
By the time you read this letter, Dad is probably already gone.
I knew my time was coming. For all these years, I’ve watched you wear yourself out for my sake, pouring so much effort and countless precious resources into my Mental Power. It has moved me deeply. My son, it’s Dad who lost his nerve, who lost the will to fight. In the end, I just couldn’t overcome the hurdle of my Mental Power.
Ah Feng, in this life, there is one thing Dad regrets more than anything else.
I knew I came from an ordinary family, and that I was too playful in my youth, missing the best time to pursue the Martial Dao. But after I grew up and wisened up, I developed an ambition I had no right to have.
I wanted to stake it all on the Martial Dao, to go to the battlefield and seek my fortune so you and your mom could have a good life. But once I was on the battlefield, years slipped by. By the time I returned, your mother was gone, and you were left with a chronic illness from that damn disaster.
...Never mind. Let’s not talk about this.
Dad doesn’t know what injustices you suffered in Canaan to make you run back home all by yourself. But, my son... you must understand. Even someone as brilliant as the Emperor himself suffered endless slander, abuse, misinterpretation, and misunderstanding from later generations after His Majesty fell silent.
The lives of great men are always lonely. Ah Feng, in your dad’s heart, you are destined to become a great man who will leave his mark on the Empire’s history. You must face it all with fortitude.
Ah Feng, Dad is gone now. In this lifetime, being able to watch you grow from a sickly child into the towering man you are today... I am content.
After I die, just scatter my ashes into the dust of the Cosmos. Do not erect a monument for me.
—Your father, Qin Dahai
The letter ended there.
There were no flowery words, no profound philosophies—only the simple love of an ordinary father for his son, and the deepest regret for his own life.
Qin Feng stared at the letter in silence for a long, long time.
The cold rhetoric from Master Yu Han in the conference room, his speech on "benefit" and "sacrifice," seemed to echo in his ears.
Squad Leader Zhou Xiong’s "Imperial Iron Law," delivered like a divine judgment, still seemed to weigh heavily on his heart.
He slowly and carefully folded the piece of paper that carried the weight of his father’s life.
Then, he retrieved a box made of Level 6 Memory Alloy from his Subspace Storage Unit, placed the letter inside, sealed it, and put it back into the Subspace Storage Unit.
He walked slowly to the window, his gaze piercing through the glass to the familiar sky over the Silver Seagull Community.
His vision gradually blurred and drifted into the distance.
Another scene seemed to appear before his eyes—a panorama of his father’s life, spanning nearly a century.
He saw a playful boy from an ordinary family.
Instead of choosing the tedious path of cultivation, he had spent his entire happy childhood chasing friends and playing in the streets and alleys.
Later, the boy grew up.
He married, had a son, and built a happy, fulfilling family.
Looking at his babbling son, at the gentle smile on his wife’s face, he matured and felt the weight of what was called "responsibility" for the first time.
He wanted to earn more money, to give his family the best life possible.
But because he had missed the Empire’s standardized Martial Arts High School education system in his youth, he had lost the chance to pursue higher education and become one of the elite.
The only path left was the most dangerous one, a single plank bridge that could lead to heaven in a single step: go to the battlefield and risk his life for a chance at fortune.
He went.
He succeeded, and he failed.
He succeeded by relying on his ferocity and extraordinary talent to carve a bloody path through a sea of blood and corpses, achieving a breakthrough to become a respected Third-level Martial Artist.
He failed in that the price he paid was a weight his life could not bear. When he returned, covered in glory and scars, what awaited him was not his wife’s embrace, but a cold gravestone.
His son had also been gravely injured in the disaster that swept through the entire community, leaving him with an incurable, strange illness.
His elderly parents also passed away one after another shortly after his return.
There is no greater sorrow than a dead heart.
From that moment on, the flame in his heart called "ambition" was completely extinguished.
He dedicated the rest of his life to a single purpose: curing his son’s illness.
He no longer dared to return to the battlefield to risk his life for money.
Because he was afraid. Afraid that if he died, his son would have no one left to rely on.
...
Qin Feng slowly retracted his gaze, and the vision before his eyes shifted to another scene.