Late at night—
Tang San looked at the Blue Silver Grass in his hand and let out a sigh.
"There's no such thing as a useless martial soul, only useless soul masters.
Could someone like me be considered a useless soul master? If this trash martial soul hadn't held me back, how could I possibly have been defeated?
Yu Xiaogang, Yu Xiaogang... If I hadn't cultivated by Father's side, I never would have realized that you'd been deceiving me all along."
Dismissing the Blue Silver Grass in his hand, Tang San raised his left hand again and gripped the Clear Sky Hammer. Staring at the gemstone on the hammer's surface, he sank into indecision.
Over the past two years, it wasn't as though he had never asked Tang Hao about cultivating the Clear Sky Hammer, but he had been stopped without hesitation every time.
Tang San sighed again. "Forget it, forget it. I'll endure a little longer. A small lack of patience ruins great plans. Father has never told me about our family's circumstances, but I can be certain that our family must have a great enemy. Otherwise, how could my mother have vanished without a trace since I was little? Father is so powerful, after all."
Clearly, over these two years, Tang Hao had ultimately revealed his strength to Tang San, though for some reason, he had not told him the full story.
And this way of speaking only halfway, of doing only halfway, truly was the most tormenting.
At the very least, Tang San now spent every day fantasizing about the various ways his enemies would court death after he became powerful, avenging his mother. Just thinking about it felt satisfying.
After suppressing the tangled thoughts in his heart slightly, a cold smile curled across Tang San's lips.