It wasn't "master," but "shifu."
He had understood the difference between those two words deeply in his previous life in the Tang Sect!
A "master" could simply be an elder who taught one a craft, but a "shifu" implied inheriting one's legacy—a bond as close as father and son.
During his short time on the Douluo Continent, everything Fu Shiyan had done for him had long surpassed the feelings of an ordinary master and disciple.
"Master..."
Tang San's lips trembled slightly, and his eyes suddenly grew hot. Without another word, he dropped to his knees with a thud and respectfully kowtowed three times:
"Disciple Tang San greets Master!!!"
He bit down hard on every word, as though he wanted to carve this recognition and promise into his bones.
Seeing such solemnity from the six-year-old before him, Fu Shiyan's heart stirred as well.
He stepped forward, firmly grasped Tang San's shoulders with both hands, and pulled him to his feet:
"Good disciple, rise."
Tang San stood up and looked at Fu Shiyan. His usually calm eyes were astonishingly bright, filled with emotions too complex to describe.
Ever since Holy Soul Village, although his father Tang Hao had been by his side, he spent every day drinking heavily and wallowing in gloom, rarely showing him any warmth.
It was only after meeting Fu Shiyan that he experienced, for the first time, such unreserved guidance, meticulous care, and even the resolve to use himself as bait in the simulations to protect him.
After only a few days together, coupled with the glimpses of the future he had seen in two simulations, Fu Shiyan had already become both master and father to him.
Fu Shiyan gently patted Tang San on the shoulder, his expression turning solemn:
"Xiao San, now that you have formally become