Chapter 7: The Twilight Hero

Novel:Author:Updated: May 26, 2019, 16:24:30Source:

Xu Zhi returned to his house, went into the kitchen, and began boiling water. He was thirsty and wanted a cup of tea.

The seeds of civilization had already been sown.

This insect-ape, with abundant body hair and a physique more akin to Western humanoids, was named Gilgamesh, a mythical Western king. This choice reflected Xu Zhi's immense hopes for him. Xu Zhi even bestowed upon him the termite gene—a second gene that previous insect-ape species had been unable to integrate during their test-tube phase—demonstrating profound expectation. Whether he could truly rise depended entirely on him.

Afterward, Xu Zhi appeared quite relaxed, sitting cross-legged at the doorway, observing the various sights in his yard. "This orchard yard is five or six hundred square meters, but I only cleared one hundred square meters to set up the sand table. Perhaps I should clear the weeds in the other areas too?"

Xu Zhi considered this, then decided to act immediately, even though he hadn't fully figured out what to do with the remaining land. As for expanding the one-hundred-square-meter sand table, he felt it was unnecessary for the time being. A larger area would be harder to control, and the current size was sufficient.

*Knock, knock, knock!*

Shortly after, there was a knock at the door.

Shirtless, Xu Zhi put down his hoe and opened the door. Outside stood Chen Xi, a young girl, holding a bag of food. She looked at him, then peered curiously into the yard. "Oh? Are you tilling the land?"

"Yes, just getting some practice and exercise," Xu Zhi said, wiping sweat with a towel. She couldn't see anything inside the sand table and simply assumed he was farming.

"Shocking!" Chen Xi blurted out. "Who would have thought a top student from a foreign company would quit a high-paying job with an annual salary of over a hundred thousand, suffering from a terminal illness, to come home and farm?"

Chen Xi scratched her head, her face flushing as she gazed at Xu Zhi's well-proportioned upper body and chiseled muscles. She silently cursed, assuming he must have used a photo editing app. "Brother Xu Zhi, I'll put the food here! Um, do you need help? I help my mom transplant rice seedlings at home. Your orchard has been neglected for so long, hasn't it? It's five or six hundred square meters, right? You're really a big landowner, but you can't manage all this by yourself!"

"No, thank you," Xu Zhi chuckled. "Well, the yard is big. I'm just reclaiming a small plot to plant some interesting seeds. Perhaps they'll grow into amazingly beautiful flowers."

"Oh," Chen Xi exhaled, a hint of curiosity in her voice, then patted her chest reassuringly. "Then you farm well! Let me know if you want anything to eat! Aunt Li and I will cook for you!"

Then she skipped away.

Finally, she whispered an additional comment, striking Xu Zhi with a "critical hit": "He was so frail before, but now he's suddenly rosy-cheeked and has grown hair. It must be a final burst of energy before death... He probably won't live much longer. Before he dies, I need to take really good care of him."

"Huh??" Xu Zhi thought. "Growing hair means I'm going to die?"

"Damn it," Xu Zhi fumed, glaring at the girl as he opened the lunchbox. "Is she treating this meal as my last supper? This girl is too insulting! I'm only in the mid-stage of stomach cancer."

Inside was a meticulously prepared bento box. It contained a fried egg, carrots, and stir-fried meat with green herbs—very down-to-earth. Taking a large bite, a refreshing aroma filled his mouth, bringing immense satisfaction.

The taste of home! Delicious! So good!

"This girl's cooking is really good," he mused. "Perhaps I'm already a dead man walking, and she should take good care of a dying cancer patient like me, bringing me delicious food every day..."

Cancer patients need to pay attention to their diet, especially those with stomach cancer. Such tasty and nutritious food brought him immense pleasure. He slumped onto a lounge chair in the yard, not wanting to move. After a while, he started doing some chores, cleaning up the orchard area as well.

After finishing the farm work in the yard, covered in mud, he began washing his clothes. He wrung them out and hung his shirts and underwear one by one on the rope in the yard. "Right," he thought, "I need to go to town and get a washing machine sometime."

The next day, round-faced Chen Xi became addicted to delivering bento boxes. Despite her compassionate actions towards him as a terminally ill patient, Xu Zhi didn't refuse her. Staying home to farm, having someone deliver delicious food, and being cared for as a dying cancer patient made him feel that the world was full of love. Could there be a more fulfilling rural life than this? No, there couldn't. Tilling the fields and planting crops, this simple and exceedingly leisurely farm life subtly evoked a sense of reclusive tranquility in him.

This short day felt brief to Xu Zhi—just three meals and a night's sleep. But for the sand table, a long time had passed: a full century. For the insect-apes, whose average lifespan was forty to fifty years, two generations had already passed. Now, after two generations, had the youthful insect-ape who had received the torch of civilization grown old and died?

Not at all. He had a great surprise for Xu Zhi. Xu Zhi clearly recorded their civilization's progress.

In the ten years after Xu Zhi's departure, Gilgamesh led the insect-apes in their continued flight. He marveled that the world contained such a miraculous spark: fire could cook food, drive away beasts at night, and provide warmth on cold evenings, helping them maintain body temperature. The use of fire marked the origin of civilization.

The Sword of Damocles, left behind, was an invincible weapon in this primeval forest. Gilgamesh, utilizing its sharpness, slew countless giant Dora beasts, similar to the sneaky egg-stealing dragons, allowing his people to survive and slowly gain the power to resist.

In the second decade, Gilgamesh shed his youthful inexperience and entered his thirties. He grew majestic and tall, leading his tribe and becoming the most powerful hunter among the insect-apes, revered by his people as the Hero King. He even used fire to burn land, making it fertile, and began cultivating crops, establishing a rudimentary agricultural life.

He was arrogant, overbearing, and self-important. The wise giant beast had entrusted him with three treasures of civilization. He understood that civilization was the inheritance of knowledge and history, so he boldly developed cuneiform script to record their tribal history and innovated language. He believed himself to be the first intelligent species to establish a civilized world, documenting his civilization-creating history in books, praising it, and shamelessly naming it *Genesis*. He was tyrannical and autocratic, yet possessed immense charisma. Within the tribe, he had one hundred and thirty-one beautiful wives who bore him offspring. Most of his children were strong and powerful, inheriting his stature and wisdom.

However, with an insect-ape lifespan of thirty to forty years, Gilgamesh was now already in his thirties. This formidable hero had reached the end of his species' lifespan. He was entering his old age; the once rugged and unrestrained Hero King who had wielded the Sword of Damocles was now facing the decline of his years.

Inside the treehouse made of wood, flames blazed in the fireplace, radiating warmth.

"That is the flame of civilization bestowed upon me by the wise giant beast," he mused. "It is so beautiful and brilliant, like a dancing, fiery red flower pistil."

Gilgamesh sat peacefully on a large chair woven from the fur of an Ara beast, his gaze deep and distant. His once robust and tall body was now aged and slow. He turned his head, looking at the giant beast skulls hanging on the wall. The skeletal heads of various giant beasts—ferocious, unyielding, powerful, and awe-inspiring—all these once-domineering savage creatures had been conquered by him, one by one. The entire wall seemed to chronicle his glorious life of conquests.

His life had been glorious enough, brilliant enough. He had realized the dreams of his youth. He was content.

"The next tribal leader has already been chosen as my son, Aga of Kish," he stated. "His abilities are no less than mine; he can lead the entire tribe, confront the giant beasts, and continue our glory."

Gilgamesh clearly felt his life approaching its end. Death was inevitable for all living beings, and he had almost resigned himself to fate. He silently took out the Blood of Power from years past and sighed, "Everything is now without worries. The wise giant beast said only the bravest warrior in the world can consume it. Those who don't survive it will die; those who do will possess unparalleled power."

"Am I, then, the bravest warrior in the world?" he wondered.

"Let me see!!" The aging hero, his clouded eyes momentarily stunned, fleetingly recalled his glorious life, then suddenly shed tears. Silently, he pricked his arm and poured the Blood of Power onto his wound.

An excruciating sting!!!!!

Gilgamesh writhed. This aging hero collapsed to the ground, having endured countless battles in his life, yet never experiencing such agonizing, violent writhing and gasping for breath.

Finally, he endured the brink of death and stood up. His abundant black body hair gradually receded, revealing firm abdominal muscles on his chest. The thick black hair on his face also receded, revealing a perfect, god-like countenance. He was no longer grayish-black; his entire body was now covered in snow-white fur, transforming him into a hominid insect-ape. His skin was delicate and translucent, like a termite, as if he were a snow giant emerging from a blizzard. His muscles, perfectly proportioned like a Greek sculpture, possessed a striking, streamlined aesthetic.

"This power is..."

The robust, white-furred young man slowly stood up. "The Blood of Power... what an incredibly great force."

*Crack.*

He lightly squeezed the sturdy bone armrest, and it instantly crumbled to dust.

At this time, in the tribe, Gilgamesh's son, Aga of Kish, stood on a high platform. He raised the Sword of Damocles high, announcing his succession as the next leader. Aga of Kish was wise and valiant, possessing both talent and virtue. Compared to his tyrannical and arrogant father, he was more like a qualified, benevolent leader. Gilgamesh knew this, which was why he was willing to hand over his position to him in his old age, not wanting the tribal civilization he had founded to be destroyed.

But now, things were different... They were completely different.

Aga of Kish, who was kind and beloved, deeply respected his father and had never thought of seizing his position. Yet, Gilgamesh would not tolerate any potential threats.

"I have returned," he declared. "The position of leader is still mine."

On that day, blood flowed and wails echoed through the Sumerian tribe. Hero King Gilgamesh, having killed his son, reascended the position of leader, living a second life.

***

For a better reading experience, the chapter content on this site is displayed via Baidu transcoding. If there are any issues, please read from the source site.You are invited to read on the most professional website!Use Enter or the right arrow key (→) to read.Enable waterfall reading.The content on this site is a list of links obtained by Renren Reading after searching various novel sites according to your instructions and does not represent Renren Reading's endorsement of the content or stance of the searched websites.