The Tang Father and Son

Old Jack grabbed Tang San's hand without a word and set off to find Tang Hao.

Don't underestimate Old Jack; despite his advanced age, his legs were remarkably nimble. With his front foot pushing and his back foot kicking, his legs moved back and forth in a rhythmic gait, and with the help of his cane, they arrived in no time.

Upon reaching Tang San's home, they saw a middle-aged man sitting at a table, holding a wine bottle and pouring liquor into his mouth.

The chair he sat on seemed to be enduring a weight it was never meant to bear, emitting a constant, creaking groan.

The man had dark, tanned skin, broad shoulders, and a thick, sturdy build, appearing utterly disheveled from head to toe. His hair was dry, yellow, curly, and split at the ends, looking like a messy bird's nest and dusted with large flakes of dandruff. He had a large, hooked nose, a slightly bulbous, alcohol-reddened nose, deep-set triangular eyes, and a wide, toad-like mouth filled with uneven, crooked, yellow teeth, with bits of vegetable stuck between them.

His clothes were equally tattered; large patches were layered over medium patches, which in turn covered small patches, and even the smallest patches were riddled with inconspicuous little holes.

Through those tiny holes, one could almost see the grime on his skin.

His top was too short to cover his navel, and his trousers were too short to cover his calves.

He wore a pair of black cloth shoes, though they seemed quite happy, as the soles had split open in a grin. Blackened white socks peeked through the opening, and his big toe poked out through a hole in the sock itself.

The house looked quite tidy, mostly because there was nothing in it.

One table, one chair, one bed, and one stove—that was all.

The stove was used by Tang Hao for blacksmithing during the day and by little Tang San for cooking.

As for the bed, it was equally crude, fashioned from a few pieces of wood and planks, topped with a straw mat.

The bed wasn't large and seemed capable of holding only one person; however, there was another straw mat on the floor not far from the bed, presumably for sleeping on the ground.

Tang Hao and Tang San took turns, one on the bed and one on the floor.

As for who got the bed, that was naturally our Clear Sky Douluo—Tang Hao.

On the table sat a bottle of cheap barley wine and several empty bottles.

Additionally, there were two bowls.

Though these bowls were chipped, cracked, and battered, they were like soldiers who refused to leave the front lines despite their injuries—resilient and still serving on the front lines of the Tang family's dining.

As for chopsticks, there were none.

Given the current physical condition and economic status of Tang Hao and Tang San, they didn't need to eat vegetables.

If you aren't eating vegetables, why would you need chopsticks?

But what about drinking soup? What about the rice grains in the soup?

Well, look at that, what a coincidence.

Rice, they did have.

But not much.

The rice grains during a meal were mostly found in Tang Hao's bowl.

This invisibly reduced the workload for our great God King, as he only had to wash one pair of chopsticks less.

(The above description is a product of personal imagination; please do not take offense.)

As soon as Old Jack entered the door with Tang San, he was hit by the smell of alcohol.

"Tang Hao, why are you drinking again?" Old Jack couldn't help but complain.

"Is there something you need?" Tang Hao seemed accustomed to Old Jack's nagging and replied calmly.

"It's like this: little San is six years old now. Tomorrow, Master Su Yuntao from Martial Soul Hall is coming to our village to awaken the children's martial souls. I was thinking of letting little San go tomorrow."

"Who knows, maybe little San could become a soul master. That way, you two wouldn't have to live like this anymore."

Hearing Old Jack's words, Tang Hao couldn't help but think: that's right, Tang San is already six.

I have a little Tang San at home, born in the year my wife passed away; he is already old enough to run errands.

However, upon hearing the words Martial Soul Hall, Tang Hao's eyes nearly turned red.

"No. My son does not need Martial Soul Hall to awaken his martial soul," Tang Hao said loudly.

"You..." Before Old Jack could say anything, Tang San felt a bit displeased.

If you don't let Martial Soul Hall awaken my martial soul, where am I supposed to get a martial soul certificate?

Without a martial soul certificate, how can I go to Nuoding Academy?

If I don't go to Nuoding Academy, how will I meet my Xiao Wu?

Without Xiao Wu, what will I do about my hundred-thousand-year soul ring and soul bone?

If you don't let Martial Soul Hall awaken my martial soul, Tang Hao, you have already...

Forget it, he is my father, after all.

Martial soul awakening was a must, but Tang San knew the temper of this cheap father of his, Tang Hao, so he could only cast a pleading look toward Old Jack.

Old Jack seemed to understand immediately.

"Tang Hao, how can you be like this? You must know how important martial soul awakening is to a person."

"It determines whether or not one can become a soul master. Do you know what a soul master is?"

"Only by becoming a soul master can one truly change their destiny, do you understand?"

"You cannot be this stubborn. Even if you don't think of yourself, you must think of Tang San."

"Look at Tang San, what a sensible child he is, busy working for this family all day long. Look at how thin he has become."

"Can you bear to watch Tang San suffer like this? Don't you want your family to live a better life?"

"Do you understand what I'm saying now, Tang Hao?"

"Fine, fine, do whatever you want."

Tang Hao seemed unable to endure Old Jack's nagging any longer and finally relented.

Seeing that Tang Hao had finally agreed, Tang San was so happy he could barely clap his hands together.

My Hundred Thousand Year Soul Ring, My Hundred Thousand Year Soul Bone, My beloved, My Xiao Wu, Brother San is coming.

"Well then, Tang San, Master Su Yuntao from the Martial Soul Hall will be arriving tomorrow. Get some good rest today, and I will come to your house to pick you up early tomorrow morning," Old Jack said to Tang San.

"Alright, Grandpa Jack," Tang San replied.

However, when he saw Tang Hao's cold gaze, his body couldn't help but tremble.

"Dad, you rest for a while, I'm going to cook."

Tang Hao looked at the Tang San before him, and his heart couldn't help but feel surprised once again.

That's right, once again.

Ever since he was small, his son would run to the hillside behind the village before dawn every day to meditate and practice, occasionally muttering things like Mysterious Heaven Skill, Mysterious Jade Hand, and Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track.

Tang Hao did not know these things, let alone teach them to Tang San.

Is this Tang San really my son?

If you say he is, Then how do you explain these strange things?

If you say he isn't, He was right there by Ah Yin's side when Tang San was born; he saw it with his own eyes, that couldn't be faked.

Before Ah Yin became pregnant, she hadn't been in contact with any other men.

Only he and his good elder brother Tang Xiao had been by Ah Yin's side.

Big brother, Tang Xiao, Tang Hao seemed to have discovered something, Hmm... hmm, ...

Impossible, absolutely impossible!