Old Pain Resurfaced, Remembering the Hatred of His Parents' Tragic Death

The passageway was still trembling faintly.

The air was thick with the scorched smell left by exploding soul power, crushed stone dust, and a faint scent of blood—some from the defeated Soul Douluo corps, and some from themselves.

Tang Wulin supported Gu Yue as they walked forward, step by slow, heavy step.

Both of them were nearing their limits.

That battle just now, against the formation jointly deployed by twelve Soul Douluos, had nearly drained more than half their soul power and stamina. Tang Wulin's arms trembled faintly. His golden blood essence no longer surged and roared as it had before, barely maintaining a state of alertness. His robes were torn in many places, blood seeping from his wounds and dripping from his fingertips, leaving dark red specks across the cold floor tiles.

Gu Yue's face remained pale. Though she had wiped away the trace of blood at the corner of her lips, her breathing was still unsteady. She had forcefully drawn all the attacks onto herself to create an opportunity for Tang Wulin to kill the commander. The backlash she had suffered was far worse than it appeared.

Yet she voiced not a word of complaint.

She simply let him support her as they walked, step by step, toward the next level.

Between the fifth and sixth underground levels lay a long, sloping corridor.

There were no lights, no sounds, and no guards.

It was as if the entire world contained nothing but their breathing and footsteps.

The farther down they went, the dimmer the light became and the colder it grew.

A frigid wind blew from the depths, like countless fine needles piercing the gaps between their bones.

Tang Wulin's steps gradually slowed.

Not because of exhaustion.

But because that familiar, suffocating feeling had once again seized his throat.

This place...

He had been here in his previous life.

Every pattern in the floor tiles, every crack in the walls, every direction the air flowed—it was all exactly the same as in his memories.

Exactly the same. So familiar that it made him choke.

"Wulin?"

Sensing that something was wrong, Gu Yue raised her eyes slightly. Concern filled her silver-gray gaze. "What's wrong? Can you not hold on anymore? We can rest for a while first."

Tang Wulin did not answer at once.

He merely came to a slow stop, released the hand supporting her, leaned his back against the cold, rough wall, and lowered his head slightly.

Golden strands of hair fell over his face, concealing his eyes.

His breathing grew heavier, little by little.

His chest rose and fell faintly. The emotions he had suppressed for so long could no longer be hidden in this deserted, dark corridor. Like floodwaters bursting through a dam, they surged wildly from the depths of his soul.

Gu Yue watched him quietly without asking questions or disturbing him.

She only stepped closer, reached out, and carefully took his hand, which was stained with dust and blood.

Her palm was small, warm, and steady.

"I'm here."

That was all she said.

Softly spoken, yet it was like a ray of light shining into the deepest, darkest abyss within him.

Tang Wulin slowly closed his eyes.

Images flooded uncontrollably into his mind.

It had been a corridor like this one.

Darkness like this.

And the same step-by-step journey toward the deepest place.

Only, in his previous life, he had been alone.

At that time, he had not been as strong as he was now.

At that time, he did not possess the fame of the Dragon Emperor Douluo, nor the fully awakened power of the Golden Dragon King.

At that time, Gu Yue was not by his side, nor did he have anyone he could entrust his back to without reservation.

At that time, he had only one thought—

Faster. Faster still. He had to see his parents.

Tang Ziran.

Lang Yue.

The two who had raised him from infancy, given him the warmest home in the world, given him his name, given him his first experience of tenderness—only to be implicated by him, imprisoned, tortured, and exploited by the Spirit Pagoda.

He would never forget what he had seen when he broke into the seventh underground level.

The secret prison had been dark, damp, and cold.

There had been no light, no sound, no hope.

His father—the once gentle and refined man who loved Soul Guidance research and always smiled as he patted Tang Wulin's head—had been bound tightly in chains. Covered in wounds, dressed in rags, and on the verge of mental collapse, he had still used every ounce of his strength to roar at the sight of him—

"Go! Don't come closer! Wulin, run!"

"Don't worry about us! You have to live!"

His mother—the once gentle, loving woman who would cry in distress whenever he was hurt and always saved the tastiest food for him—had leaned weakly in a corner, her face as pale as paper, struggling even to open her eyes. Yet the moment she saw her son, she had desperately forced out a smile and gently shaken her head at him.

There had been no resentment in her eyes, no blame.

There had only been heartache, reluctance, and—

Mom is sorry. I can't stay with you anymore.

Then the Spirit Pagoda's experts had surrounded them.

Soul Guidance cannons had been aimed at them.

Schemes, traps, threats, coercion—all of it had come crashing down upon him.

He had wanted to rush forward.

He had wanted to shatter the chains.

He had wanted to take them away.

But he could not.

He had been held back, surrounded, suppressed by overwhelming power, trapped completely by their calculations.

And then.

Right before his eyes.

Cold Soul Guidance beams had pierced his parents' chests.

Red blood had splashed across the icy ground.

And splashed across his heart.

His father's voice had cut off abruptly.

His mother's smile had frozen forever upon her face.

They had not even managed to leave behind a complete final message.

They had not even been able to touch his face one more time.

They had not even been able to hear him say—

Dad, Mom, I came too late.

"Ah—"

Tang Wulin suddenly clenched his fists. His knuckles turned white, and his bones let out faint sounds of unbearable strain.

The muffled groan buried deep in his throat finally escaped.

His heart hurt so much that he could not breathe.

It hurt so badly that his entire body shook.

It hurt so badly that he could barely remain standing.

All the despair, helplessness, regret, and collapse of his previous life surged back at that moment, swallowing him whole.

He had clearly worked so hard.

Clearly fought so desperately.

Clearly given everything he had.

Yet he had still failed to protect the people closest to him.

"Wulin..."

Gu Yue's heart clenched violently.

She had never seen him like this.

Even during Shrek's most hopeless crisis, even when facing the Level-12 Fixed Soul Guidance Shell, he had always stood straight, like a spear that would never break.

But now, his entire body was trembling.

It was not fear.

It was pain.

Pain that had sunk into his bones, pain that could not heal even across two lifetimes.

She stepped forward softly. Without saying a word, she stretched out her arms and carefully, gently embraced him.

She slowly drew his head onto her shoulder.

"Cry."

Her voice was soft and gentle, like moonlight, like the sea breeze. "I'm here. No one will see."

"You don't have to stay strong all the time."

Tang Wulin's body jolted sharply.

The tears he had held back for two lifetimes finally could no longer be restrained, silently rolling down his face.

He did not break into loud sobs or howl in grief. His shoulders only trembled faintly as warm tears soaked the fabric on her shoulder.

This man who had never lowered his head before countless powerful enemies, this Dragon Emperor Douluo who had carried Shrek, his companions, and fate itself, seemed at that moment like a child who had finally found a harbor.

"I couldn't protect them..."

His voice was hoarse and broken, every word steeped in blood and tears.

"Gu Yue, I couldn't protect them..."

"In my previous life, I stood right there and watched... watched them, right in front of me..."

He could not continue.

Every word was like tearing open wounds that had never healed.

"I came too late."

"I was too weak."

"I promised them that I would take good care of myself, that I would live well, that I would take them away... but I couldn't even save their lives."

"What kind of son am I..."

"What kind of strong person am I..."

"I couldn't even protect my own parents..."

Gu Yue held him tightly, gently patting his back over and over.

She did not say, "Don't be sad," nor did she say, "It's all in the past."

Because she knew that some pain could never truly pass.

Some regrets could not be erased even through the cycle of two lifetimes.

She simply held him quietly, using all her tenderness to catch every fragment of his collapse.

"It wasn't your fault."

She spoke softly but firmly beside his ear.

"It was never your fault."

"You already gave everything you had."

"Back then, you had already done very well."

"The Spirit Pagoda was at fault. The conspiracy was at fault. Fate was at fault. Not you."

"You have not failed anyone."

Tang Wulin closed his eyes, but his tears continued to fall.

"Every time I close my eyes, I can see that scene..."

"Blood. Blood everywhere..."

"My mom's final look at me, my dad's voice telling me to run..."

"I can't forget it. I really can't forget..."

Gu Yue's heart felt as if it were being cut apart, blade by blade.

She gently raised a hand and stroked his hair with indescribable tenderness.

"Then don't forget."

She spoke softly.

"Carry those memories with you and keep moving forward."

"Carry their hopes for you, their love for you, and keep moving forward."

"In this life, we are not here to run away."

"We are here to make up for it."

"You are not alone anymore."

"I'll be with you."

"Together, we'll bring them home."

"This time, no one will be allowed to take them away from your side again."

"I promise."

Her voice was light, yet it carried the weight of a thousand mountains.

Tang Wulin slowly drew in a breath, then another.

His tears gradually stopped, though his shoulders still trembled faintly.

He slowly lifted his head from her shoulder.

His golden eyes were slightly reddened, tear tracks still lingering at their corners, but they no longer held nothing but collapse and despair.

The pain remained. The regret remained. The heartache remained.

Yet in that deepest darkness, a glimmer of light had been rekindled.

A light called "hope" and "redemption."

He looked at the girl before him.

Her silver hair was slightly disheveled, her face still pale, her breathing still unsteady. Though she was injured herself, though she was exhausted to the limit, she was still doing everything she could to warm him, support him, and protect him.

In Shrek's corridors, she had shyly leaned against his chest.

On the road to clearing the tower, she had stood firmly at his side.

Now, as he broke down, she silently held him.

Millions of years of waiting.

Millions of years of fate.

Millions of years of loneliness.

At last, in this life, it had found a home.

Tang Wulin slowly raised his hand, his fingertips gently brushing her cheek and wiping away a speck of dust.

His movement was so gentle, as though she would shatter at the slightest touch.

"Thank you, Gu Yue."

His voice was still hoarse, but it carried a little more calmness.

"Thankfully, I have you."

Gu Yue lifted her eyes slightly, looked at him, and smiled softly.

That smile was faint, gentle, and pure, like the only light in the darkness.

"Between us, there's no need to say thank you."

Tang Wulin took a deep breath and slowly straightened his back.

His shoulders still ached faintly, his body was still exhausted, and his wounds still hurt.

But his gaze became firm, steady, and unshakable once more.

The pain had not vanished.

The memories had not faded.

But he would no longer be consumed by them.

Because he understood.

Drowning in regret for the past was not remembrance for his parents.

Carrying those regrets and doing everything he could to make up for them was.

In this life, he was no longer alone.

He had strength, conviction, a beloved, and a mission he had to fulfill.

The sixth underground level lay ahead.

The seventh underground level was even deeper below.

His parents were there.

They were still alive.

Waiting for him.

"Let's rest for a while."

Tang Wulin said softly, "We'll recover some soul power before going down."

"Okay."

The two sat quietly side by side, leaning against the wall.

They did not speak, yet there was no awkwardness between them.

Their breaths intertwined, their auras blended, and their hearts understood each other.

Tang Wulin turned his head slightly and looked at Gu Yue beside him.

Moonlight seemed to pass through layer after layer of rock, falling upon her silver hair and casting it in a faint glow.

He suddenly recalled that wall-pin kiss in the Sea God Pavilion corridor not long ago, after they had narrowly escaped disaster.

The tips of her ears, flushed with shyness.

Her flustered, evasive gaze.

Her slightly trembling lashes.

Her soft, warm lips.

That had been the sweetest, warmest, most precious light upon his journey through darkness.

He slowly reached out and took her hand again.

Their fingers interlocked tightly.

"Gu Yue."

"Mm?"

"Once we rescue my parents..."

He looked at her. Within his golden eyes was an incomparably earnest, incomparably resolute tenderness.

"We'll never be apart again."

"I'll never let you fall into danger again, and I'll never let you bear everything alone again."

Gu Yue's heart trembled softly.

She lifted her eyes to him. A faint sheen of tears rose in her silver-gray eyes, yet her smile was exceptionally gentle.

"Okay."

"We'll never be apart again."

"Once we rescue Mom and Dad, we'll go home."

"Back to Shrek."

"Back to our home."

Those simple words surpassed every oath in the world.

Within the dark passageway, the two figures leaned against one another and supported each other.

Exhaustion, pain, tears, memories, regret, anticipation, love...

All of it intertwined.

The pain of the past would not disappear.

But the light of the future had already begun to shine.

After resting for a moment, Tang Wulin slowly stood and extended his hand.

"Let's go."

Gu Yue placed her hand in his palm and nodded gently.

"Mm."

Supporting each other, they began walking once more.

Their steps were still somewhat unsteady, but they no longer trembled.

Their eyes still carried deep sorrow, but they were even more resolute.

Ahead lay the sixth underground level.

Stronger guardians awaited them.

More perilous trials awaited them.

But they would never retreat again.

Because this time, they were not fleeing.

They were not struggling.

They were not rushing toward tragedy in despair.

They were—

Going home.

The entrance to the sixth underground level was right ahead.

In the darkness, faint fluctuations of soul power could be felt.

Powerful, cold, and imposing.

They belonged to Titled Douluo.

And there was more than one.

The true desperate situation was about to arrive.

But Tang Wulin's eyes held only calmness.

He tightened his grip on the hand beside him and walked forward, one step at a time.

Dad. Mom.

Wait for me.

This time, I will definitely bring you home.