Old Jack: Xiao San, Have You Forgotten Holy Spirit Village? The Tang Sect's Mysterious Heaven Treasure Record

At that moment, Old Jack felt as if the entire world had turned fantastical.

Unbidden, scenes from several years ago surfaced in Old Jack's mind:

He had stood with his hands on his hips, pointed at the drunken Tang Hao's nose, and cursed him out—calling him decadent, irresponsible, and an unfit father...

Yet back then, Tang Hao had merely lowered his head and listened without uttering a word.

"My heavens..."

A chill ran down Old Jack's spine, and cold sweat instantly soaked the clothes on his back.

"I actually pointed at a Titled Douluo's nose and cursed him for years?!

And I'm still alive... the ancestors must have been smiling upon me!"

After the lingering fear passed, Old Jack's trembling gaze fell once more upon Tang San, who knelt on the ground within the Heavenly Screen with a pained expression.

"Xiao San... that obedient, sensible Xiao San..."

Old Jack's expression became incomparably complicated, filled with both shock and deep confusion.

"So that child Xiao San actually came from such an extraordinary background?

Clear Sky Sect... that was the legendary Number One Sect Under Heaven, wasn't it?"

Old Jack remembered Tang San's disappointment when he awakened Blue Silver Grass all those years ago.

He remembered his instructions when he sent him to Nuoding Academy, and the child's thin yet resolute back.

"Since he was someone so important...

Why had he ended up suffering in a little village like ours?"

Old Jack sighed and looked once more at the [Original World · Childhood Life] scene playing on the left side of the Heavenly Screen.

He watched the little Tang San in the image, who had always treated him with utmost respect and worked tirelessly to make a living.

Old Jack's thoughts drifted away again as he sank into deep memories.

"Back then, that child Xiao San had it so hard..."

"Every day, he got up before dawn to cook porridge and look after that drunken father of his.

Every time I visited, he was busy working. His little hands were so rough, like those of a tiny old man..."

"That child was so sensible it broke people's hearts.

Whenever I brought him food, he always asked first whether some could be saved for his father..."

Tears glimmered in Old Jack's clouded eyes as he murmured:

"Back then, I thought that if this child could make something of himself and live a good life one day, how wonderful that would be."

"Later, he truly did make something of himself. He became a Soul Master and went to a big city..."

At that point, Old Jack's voice abruptly stopped.

Watching the grown, high-spirited Tang San in the Heavenly Screen, an inexplicable sense of loss suddenly rose in his heart.

"Yes, he made something of himself... but..."

"Ever since he came back once that year with that little girl named Xiao Wu... he never returned again."

Old Jack lowered his head and looked at the cane in his hand, polished bright from use. He smiled bitterly.

"It's been five or six years already, hasn't it?

He hasn't even sent back a letter."

"Perhaps... the splendor of the big city dazzled him?

Or perhaps... he was simply too busy?"

"That made sense too. He was now the son of a Titled Douluo and the heir of Clear Sky Sect.

How could our tiny Holy Spirit Village, this shabby Blacksmith Shop, possibly keep a golden phoenix?"

Old Jack shook his head, wanting to find an excuse for Tang San, but the faint chill in his heart refused to fade.

Old Jack looked at the equally shocked villagers around him, then at the village that remained poor and backward, and could not help thinking:

"If... if Xiao San truly still remembered us, even if he only came back for a visit, even if he merely told us about the outside world... how wonderful that would be."

Unfortunately, that was ultimately nothing more than an old man's wishful hope.

The images on the Heavenly Screen sped past.

Over the following years, the only sounds in that dilapidated Blacksmith Shop were the monotonous clanging of ironwork and Tang Hao's day-after-day drinking.

From the moment the child named Tang San learned to walk, he had needed to stand on a stool by the stove to cook porridge and meals for his drunken father.

He wore old clothes covered in patches, climbed to the mountaintop every morning to train Purple Demon Eye, then silently returned to clean up the mess his father had left behind.

There were no toys, no snacks, and even less parental love.

There was only a childhood forever steeped in the smell of alcohol and coal dust.

[Original World Evaluation: Dependent on others, living in hardship.

The father drowned himself in drink; the young son had to run the household early.

This was not merely childhood—it was a struggle for survival.]

[Original World · Douluo Continent]

[All-Continent Advanced Soul Master Academy Elite Tournament · Finals Venue]

Looking at the familiar Holy Spirit Village in the Heavenly Screen, that shabby Blacksmith Shop, and the tiny figure standing on a stool to cook porridge.

Tang San's nails dug deeply into his palms, and blood dripped onto the ground.

This was his childhood.

Back then, he had thought that was all life was. He had believed that if he were obedient enough, sensible enough, his father would drink a little less and look at him a little more.

But now, with something to compare it to, everything seemed so ironic and pitiful.

"So... this was the kind of life I lived when I was little..."

Oscar, Ma Hongjun, and the others beside him were also dumbfounded, their hearts filled with mixed feelings.

They had also been born commoners, but at least their parents were both alive and their childhoods had not been this miserable.

The son of the mighty Clear Sky Douluo had actually lived barely better than a beggar?

"This Tang Hao... he's far too irresponsible!"

Ning Rongrong could not help muttering softly.

"It would be one thing if he wanted to waste his own life, but he even made such a little child take care of him. What kind of father is that?"

Those words were like a thorn, stabbing viciously into Tang San's heart.

Tang San wanted to refute her, wanted to defend his father's dignity.

But as he watched the man on the Heavenly Screen who did nothing but drink and sleep, he opened his mouth yet could not make a single sound.

(Author: Say, aren't you all going to pay attention to how Tang San began cultivating techniques like Mysterious Heaven Skill and Purple Demon Eye at the age of two? Is that reasonable? O(∩_∩)O Haha~)

[Current World · Spirit City · Pope's Palace Main Seat]

Tang Shan sat high upon the main seat, supporting his chin with one hand.

His deep gaze rested on the tiny figure in the Heavenly Screen, running about to make a living and working busily in front of the stove.

"Holy Spirit Village... Old Jack..."

Tang Shan softly repeated those unfamiliar names, a trace of the feeling that ages had passed flickering through his eyes.

In this world, from the moment he had transmigrated and been born, the gears of fate had already been completely rearranged.

"Although I am not a Tang Sect disciple, do not have that volume of the Mysterious Heaven Treasure Record in my head, and cannot use Mysterious Heaven Skill or Purple Demon Eye.

Nor do I understand those exquisite methods of crafting hidden weapons..."

Tang Shan silently muttered to himself, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.

"Compared to Tang San from that world, who reincarnated with max-level 'software,' I seem to have started with a blank slate."

"But..."

"This body of mine is itself the strongest 'hardware.'"

"The moment I transmigrated, I used my own origin divine power to nourish my parents in return, helping them Break Shackles."