I manage female characters in all the heavens.

The body is no different from the external world around it: rough skin, calloused hands, slightly hunched back...

But his body, which had been greatly strengthened by the awakening of his source potential, and the various hidden injuries left from years of battle, had all disappeared.

There were no old, aching injuries in the muscles, no worn-out joints that made the bones creak, and no burning sensation in the lungs when breathing heavily.

He is now just a healthy, ordinary person.

The only thing that remains is the ancient martial arts of Heluo, honed through countless trials and tribulations, and the combat skills developed through countless life-and-death battles.

With a thought, he felt a slight weight on his waist, and a folded steel spear appeared out of thin air, hanging heavily at his side.

This weapon is a manifestation of his own will. He practiced the spear his whole life, and the Six Harmonies Spear was a part of his body, which he instinctively projected onto his spiritual body.

He took a deep breath, took off the folding gun, and with a strong shake, the three sections of the gun barrel popped out and locked, forming a steel gun more than three meters long. The blade gleamed with a cold light under the orange-pink light.

He slung his gun over his shoulder and strode toward the three-story building.

With each step he took, his aura intensified. The killing intent and fighting spirit that had been dormant for ten years, like a beast awakened, slowly seeped out from the depths of his bones, condensing into an invisible, chilling aura around him.

He knew he wasn't very eloquent, and he also knew how stubborn his son was.

He had no confidence whatsoever in using words to awaken Ulan Haisang from this false happiness.

So from the very beginning, he never intended to rely on his words.

His only option was to kill Evelyn, who had bewitched his son, or either Jiu Feng.

He had made up his mind. No matter what he saw or how Ulan Haisang reacted, he would not hesitate to take action and use all his strength to kill the enemy who was disguised as gentle.

Chapter 200 Father's Love is Like a Mountain, Leading You Home

As the three-story building drew closer, the scene in the courtyard gradually became clearer.

The fence gate was ajar, and through the crack, you could see a small sandpit in the yard with a few children's toys piled up next to it.

An old orange cat was dozing on the windowsill, its tail tip swaying gently.

Ulan Aodeng pushed open the courtyard gate.

The door hinges made a slight creaking sound.

He walked to the door, took a deep breath, and pushed open the white-painted wooden door.

The scene inside the door made his newly formed resolve falter.

The living room was brighter and more spacious than he had imagined.

Warm yellow light streamed down from the overhead chandelier, and firewood crackled softly in the fireplace.

On the light beige fabric sofa, Ulan Haisang was sitting with his left leg crossed and a little girl of about four years old sitting on his right leg. He was lifting her up and putting her down, and the little girl was giggling so hard that her face turned red.

Next to the sofa was a slightly older boy, about five years old, who was engrossed in building Lego on the coffee table, his little brows furrowed and his face full of focus.

There was a three-year-old girl sitting on the carpet, pushing a small cart around.

three children.

The sounds of stir-frying and the aroma of food wafted from the kitchen.

A tall, beautiful, and gentle figure was busy at the stove, glancing back every now and then at the father and sons in the living room, a happy smile on her face.

On the other side of the living room, at the workbench, a girl named Maido, who looked several years older than she actually was—about fifteen years old—was slumped over the table, with a metal plate spread out in front of her, a welding torch in her hand, and a look of utter frustration on her face.

She stared at the metal plate fiercely for a few seconds, then threw it aside, ran to the sofa, picked up the little girl playing with her toy car, and vigorously rubbed the girl's face to vent her anger.

She muttered things like "failed again" and "this science is not scientific at all."

It's warm, lively, and full of life.

Ulan Aodeng stood at the door, feeling as if an invisible hand had squeezed his heart tightly.

Just then, Ulan Haisang, who was playing with his child on the sofa, looked up and saw Ulan Aodeng standing at the door.

He was stunned for a moment, then a big smile spread across his face—a genuine, untroubled smile that Ulan Aodeng felt he had never seen on his son's face in his entire life.

"Dad's back!" Ulanhaisang put down his daughter, clapped his hands, stood up, and took a few steps toward the door to greet him.

"Why are you standing at the door? Come on, sit down! Xiaorou has finished cooking and is just waiting for you to start eating!"

The woman named Xiaorou in the kitchen peeked out at the sound, smiled gently, and said in a soft voice, "Dad's back? Perfect timing, the last soup will be ready soon. Please have a seat and wait a moment."

She deftly ladled out the hot soup and placed it on the table.

The table was already laden with a sumptuous feast: braised pork, steamed fish, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, and a steaming pot of chicken soup—all dishes that looked and smelled delicious, emitting an enticing aroma.

Ulan Aodeng was somewhat dazed. He had only seen these dishes before the disaster and hadn't seen them for over forty years.

Seeing it again today feels like a lifetime ago.

The little girl who had been made to cry by Maiduo walked over nonchalantly, grabbed Wulan Aodeng's arm and dragged her inside, pouting and complaining:

"Old Deng, what are you doing? Just standing there like an idiot, hurry up and sit down! I'm starving, I've been waiting for you to start the meal!"

Without saying a word, she pulled Ulan Aodeng to the dining table and made him sit in the head seat.

Ulanhaisang smiled and sat down. The three children chattered and climbed onto their respective high chairs. Xiaorou placed the last dish on the table, took off her apron, and sat down next to Ulanhaisang.

She glanced tenderly at the table full of dishes, then at Wulan Aodeng, her eyes filled with respect and expectation as a daughter-in-law.

"Honey, eat more." She picked up a piece of braised pork and put it in Wulan Haisang's bowl, then picked up some food for Maiduo and Aodeng as well.

Ulanhaisang kissed Xiaorou and put a piece of meat on her plate, while Maiduo ate heartily, showing off her food with a bold and unrestrained manner.

He looked down at the glistening braised pork in his bowl, then looked up at the people at the table—his son with a happy smile, his gentle and virtuous daughter-in-law, his lively and adorable Maiduo, and his three chubby-cheeked grandsons and granddaughters.

This is the world in his son's heart.

Deep in his son's heart, he always longed for the family to sit together in harmony and enjoy a hot dinner.

There is no apocalypse, no monsters, no endless battles and sacrifices, only home, only warmth, only love.

Even though he was so strict with his son from a young age, often beating and scolding him, and almost never giving him a kind look, deep in his son's heart, he still left him and Maido with the warmest place.

The son longed in his heart that one day he could sit down peacefully with his father, sister, wife, and children and have a simple meal together.

His hand holding the gun trembled violently, his knuckles turning white from gripping it so tightly.

He had never seen such a joyful smile on Ulan Haisang's face before.

Most of the time, Ulanhaisang was silent and resistant when facing him, with his head down and no words, like a silent wall.

To the outside world, his face always carried the bewilderment and numbness that everyone experiences to some extent in the face of the apocalypse, the uncertainty about the future, and the helplessness about life.

But now, all those negative things have disappeared.

At this moment, Ulan Haisang was enveloped in a pure and unreserved happiness.

He sat in the home he had built with his own hands, surrounded by his gentle wife, his lovely children, his dear sister, and his strict but finally acknowledging father.

That kind of happiness was real and tangible; it couldn't be faked.

Ulan Aodeng closed his eyes in anguish.

No matter how happy Ulanhaisang is, he must shatter his son's beautiful dream and bring him back from his blissful spiritual world to the cold and cruel reality.

He might be happy to indulge in false happiness, but if the price of all this is his son's life, he would rather shatter everything and let his son live in pain in the cruel reality!

Even if his son resents, hates, or despises him in the future, he must do this!

His wavering conviction hardened, and his grip on the gun stopped trembling, becoming even more steady than before.

He stood up from the table.

This action made everyone look up. Ulan Haisang looked at his father in confusion: "Dad? What's wrong? Is the food not to your liking?"

Ulan Aodeng did not answer.

The sharp spear light tore through the air, pierced the table laden with delicious food, shattered the pristine white tablecloth and plates, and fiercely penetrated Xiao Rou's heart!

Xiao Rou's smile froze on her face.

She looked down at the sharp blade piercing her chest, then looked up at Ulan Aodeng. In his gentle eyes, there was no resentment, only incomprehension and a deep sadness.

Blood gushed from the hole in her chest, quickly seeping down her light-colored dress and forming a thin stream that dripped onto the floor covered in shards of porcelain.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but only managed to utter a barely audible whisper.

Ulan Aodeng put away his gun, and Xiao Rou, who had lost her strength, slid off the chair and fell to the ground.

That gentle gaze gradually became empty, and finally fell into a deathly silence.

Blood gushed out, staining the surrounding broken porcelain and food, and soon pooled on the floor into a shocking dark red stain.

The table split in two and collapsed to either side with a loud crash.

Broken pieces of tableware and food were scattered all over the floor, creating a mess.

Ulan Aodeng stood with his gun sheathed, the hot blood on the blade cooling rapidly in the air, sliding down the tip and dripping onto the floor with a soft pattering sound.

The entire living room was deathly silent.

The firewood in the fireplace was still crackling, but that warm sound seemed particularly jarring at that moment.

Ulan Haisang's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of a pinhead in that instant.

His eyes were wide open as he stared at Xiaorou lying on the ground, blood still gushing from her chest, his mind completely blank.

It's a kind of blank when the brain refuses to process information, but soon, the blankness, like cracks in porcelain, shatters little by little.

He opened his mouth wide, as if trying to shout something, but his vocal cords seemed to be constricted, and he couldn't make a sound.

His body began to tremble violently, and he gripped his hair tightly with both hands, his nails almost digging into his scalp.

He knelt on the ground, his knees hitting the shattered porcelain floor, drawing blood, but he seemed completely oblivious.

He touched the still-warm blood on the ground with trembling hands, as if he couldn't believe it was real.

"Do not……"

He finally managed to make a sound, hoarse, broken, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat.

"No...no no no no..."

He lay sprawled on the ground, clutching the lifeless head in his hands, his body trembling violently, emitting a mournful cry that was somewhere between a wail and a roar, a sound that was not human.

Just then, the three children, who had been stunned, seemed to realize what had happened. They rushed over like madmen, threw themselves on their mother's body, and cried out in heart-wrenching sobs, their voices sharp and desperate, piercing the eardrums.