Chapter 73

Once upon a time, there was a boy who was always sick, so no one wanted to play with him. One winter, when the first heavy snow fell from the sky, the little boy built a small snowman and asked, “Can I hug you?”

The snowman replied, “Why?”

The boy said, “Because I like you.”

The snowman silently fell into his arms. The next second, he heard the snowman whisper softly in his ear, “I’ve traveled through the seasons just to melt in your embrace. Thank you for liking me.”

The next day, the boy died of a severe cold.

And so, we named this story “The Love That Life Cannot Bear.”

After proving with his actions the profound declaration, “I came into this world only for you,” and theoretically having “gained” the “love that life cannot bear” from the captain of the Wind Fury, the navigator sat on the carpet in the captain’s cabin, pondering—he couldn’t understand why the man who, just three minutes ago, had earnestly said, “Alright, I’m yours,” could now, like a performer changing masks, switch from a red face to a black one, immediately adopting a stern, interrogative demeanor.

Where was the promised harmonious life at sea as a devoted couple?

Where was the promised endless love and affection?!

Instead, there was only the domineering man sitting in the armchair, leaning slightly forward, looking down at his little slave. After witnessing the spectacle of the “single-fingered box opening,” the first words from the captain were—

“Perverted fisherman, what are you?”

What do you mean, what am I? I’m the man who’s going to become the man of the pirate king. Miguel raised an eyebrow, his first thought being that Caesar was insulting him—but when he looked up and saw the captain’s face filled with confusion and hesitation, Miguel realized that the captain was seriously asking him a question that might be urgent.

Miguel had seen this expression on Caesar’s face before—last month, when the man personally sent a crew member who had raped a woman to the gallows, he had worn the same expression—in other words, Miguel felt that if he didn’t answer well, for the sake of love and peace, Caesar might just burn him, the anomaly, at the stake.

……

Zhizhi had said that only “someone who does not exist in this world” could open the wooden box, so Caesar couldn’t open it, Leoza couldn’t open it, and Rick couldn’t open it.

Luo Chenzhou, who had traveled from several hundred years in the future, had opened it, because he was Luo Chenzhou.

Miguel fell silent. Beside him lay the opened wooden box, and inside it swam a carefree little fish with a seven-second memory. Its body was transparent, revealing its internal organs, and its tail had a small red dot. When the tail flicked, it made a splashing sound from within the box.

Leoza crouched beside him—it was the first time Miguel had seen such a genuine expression on the kid’s face. Not anger, not coquettishness, nor feigned cuteness. His large golden eyes were wide open, fixed on Miguel, his face filled with worry… It seemed even Leoza was concerned that Caesar, in a fit of anger, might decide to burn Miguel for fun.

After living for over twenty years, he was now being worried over by a middle schooler. The black-haired young man paused, feeling a pang of absurdity, and suddenly, without holding any grudges, reached out to ruffle the red-haired boy’s hair—

His hand hadn’t even touched the boy’s head when Caesar’s voice stopped him.

“If you’re going to be mine, you need to have some awareness—don’t just reach out and touch dirty things.”

…Be yours?

Wait, the subject-object order seems a bit off… Miguel muttered under his breath, retracting his hand under Caesar’s disapproving gaze. He sat cross-legged on the soft carpet, absentmindedly plucking at the fibers. Ignoring Leoza’s bared teeth, Caesar remained patient, silently watching as his expensive fur carpet was plucked bald by his little slave. Finally, he tapped the armrest with his finger and asked in a deep voice, “Are you even human?”

What a brilliant question.

Miguel was amused. He looked up at Caesar and said, “Am I not human? You’ve kissed me, touched me, used me—do you think I’m human? Hot? Warm? Wet?”

The Black Sea Wolf was left speechless. For the first time, a hint of embarrassment flashed across the captain’s face.

Meanwhile, Leoza, who couldn’t grasp the main point, blurted out, “Did you two do it?”

“Not yet,” Miguel glanced sideways at Caesar, “but soon.”

Caesar: “…”

Miguel: “A bet’s a bet, mwah.”

Caesar: “How do you explain Zhizhi’s words, ‘someone who does not exist in this world’?”

“I can’t explain it,” Miguel spread his hands, “those aren’t my words—ask the one who said it. By the way, do you believe that one day humans will fly through the clouds in metal objects like birds?”

Caesar: “No.”

“See?” Miguel spread his hands again, “That’s my world.”

A trace of disdain appeared on Caesar’s face. “Are you saying you’re a god? Are you mocking me, huh?”

“Fuck! If I had that kind of power, would I be mocking you?” Miguel was so frustrated by the captain’s logic that he wanted to pound the floor. “Who said that flying in the sky means you’re a god—never mind, I’m from a highly advanced technological civilization, I can’t explain it to you primitive people!”

Caesar didn’t understand a single word Miguel was saying, but he did understand the tone—the proud Black Sea Wolf Captain couldn’t stand anyone showing off in front of him. His face darkened, and he stood up, effortlessly lifting the black-haired young man from the floor and giving him a punishing slap on the buttocks before placing him in the armchair he had just vacated.

The slap wasn’t too painful, but it left a tingling sensation that made his brain feel a bit foggy.

Miguel sat stiffly in the soft armchair, his hands resting properly on the armrests, his posture as precise as a death row inmate sitting in an electric chair—in fact, it was a perfect analogy, because Caesar now stood before him, his hands resting on the armrests as he leaned down, his handsome face, even the scar over his eye adding to his perfection, nearly touching Miguel’s. Miguel’s eyelids twitched; he truly felt like he was sitting in an electric chair.

Now the navigator was fully charged, so much so that his little brother down below was ready to break into a bullfight dance.

“Didn’t you come from the Mediterranean on an Easterner’s ship?”

“No.”

“Then how did you get here?”

“I woke up one day and found myself floating in the sea. My country, my family, my friends—all gone. Old Fante fished me out.”

Miguel answered honestly, knowing that Caesar was once again employing his ultimate seduction technique, and he was only responsible for standing by the trap the captain had dug, smirking, and then gracefully jumping in.

Miguel straightened up, leaning closer to the man. “I’m from several hundred years in the future, where ships are made of metal, and people can fly through the sky in vehicles. It only takes ten hours to get from my country to Germany.”

Caesar stared at the navigator, silent for a long time. He looked into those black eyes, trying to find any hint of deception… but he failed. Raising an eyebrow, the man finally said calmly—

“Bullshit.”

“…”

Miguel was exasperated.

The most infuriating thing in the world was when you lied, the other person thought you were an honest, good person, but when you finally told the truth, they accused you of lying!

Ignoring the black-haired young man who was rolling his eyes in the armchair, the captain reached out and effortlessly placed the wooden box on the table beside them—he used a bit too much force, and water splashed all over the table. The little fish was thrown out, flopping on the wet surface, causing Leoza to scream in alarm. Caesar ignored him, expressionlessly picking up the fish by its tail and tossing it back into the box.

Miguel leaned over to look, then was surprised to find that no matter how much they messed with it, the water in the wooden box never seemed to decrease—he suddenly remembered a news story he’d once seen about a Hong Kong tycoon who spent a fortune on a strange stone. The stone was said to have the miraculous property of filling an empty bowl with clear water overnight… Later, curiosity got the better of the tycoon, and he decided to crack the stone open—

Inside the stone was a pool of water, a cinnabar bead, and a transparent little fish.

The fish died the next day, the millions of dollars went down the drain, and the tycoon, unable to bear the shock, jumped off a building.

Later, experts explained that the stone was a kind of living fossil, hundreds of years old, used by ancient navigators as a guide when compasses were unavailable or failed. It had a specific name: the Sinan Fish.

A transparent little fish, with a red dot on its tail, about the size of a pinky finger.

Miguel was stunned, suddenly feeling that this wooden box had some deep connection to the great motherland.

The thoughtful navigator caught the captain’s attention.

Grabbing his chin, the man turned Miguel’s face toward him. He leaned over the armchair, his tall frame completely enveloping the navigator. If it weren’t for Leoza’s protests, the atmosphere would have been perfect for… something.

“You recognize it.”

Caesar’s voice was calm, his lips almost touching Miguel’s as he spoke.

It was a statement, not a question.

Miguel twitched his fingers but didn’t answer.

It felt familiar, but that didn’t mean it was the same thing.

In the silence, the man reached out and pushed the delicate wooden box toward Miguel. Caesar lowered his voice, coaxing in a deep tone, “You know how to use it.”

“…I don’t.”

In the quiet of the captain’s cabin, Miguel’s dry voice rang out, sounding completely unapologetic: “Opening it was hard enough, and now you expect me to teach you how to use it? This is the first time I’ve seen this thing too. Do you think it’s a hen that can just lay eggs and then you can tell it what to do? Besides, the fish only has a seven-second memory—it’s already forgotten who I am—”

Here, the navigator paused, then added sarcastically, “Just like you. You two might actually get along. Want to give it a try?”