Slay the Gods: The Deaf Man Who Hears Hearts

Seven hundred years ago, I was the god who sent them away with my own hands. On the night of Ragnarok, eleven gods knelt before me and said, “Being gods is exhausting. Please let us become human.” I asked each of them, “Are you sure?” Eleven people answered, “Yes,” eleven times. So I killed them. Then I carved out eleven strands of my own emotions, sealed my divinity, and pierced my left ear because the last god said, “Ai Miye, you don’t deserve to hear the people thank you.” Seven hundred years later, I wake up under the name “Chu Wan,” with gray eyes and a damaged ear. I can’t cry, I’m not afraid of death, and I don’t understand what it means to fall for someone. On my first mission, I meet the seventh person I killed seven hundred years ago. His name is Lin Qiye, and his eyes hold a rusty-red desire for self-destruction. It’s an old wound from seven hundred years ago that never healed. He asks me, “Do you know me?” I touch my left ear. “No.” It’s the first lie I’ve told in seven hundred years. Later, I meet three others. Baili Pangpang changes the beneficiary on his insurance to me, then grins and says, “Mom says taking in your junk is what makes us family.” Cao Yuan’s black shirt begs me not to be afraid of it, handcuffs dangling from its teeth. I don’t know how to tell it: I’ve seen too many gods. You’re not scary. Shen Qingzhu takes a knife meant for me and lies at death’s door. When he asks why I saved him, I say, “Because the way you look at me is like you’re looking at your last lifeline.” Later still, Lin Qiye finally remembers that snowfall. He asks, “Have you ever regretted it?” I say, “Every day.” He asks, “Then why did you do it?” I’m silent for a long time “Because it was your wish.” In this life, they teach me to cry, to be afraid, to fall in love.