On the same day Qian Ningshuang awakened her Martial Soul in Spirit City, in Holy Soul Village south of Nuoding City, Fasinuo Province, in the southwest of the Heaven Dou Empire.
A neat-haired little boy with black hair and wheat-colored skin sat atop a small hill barely over a hundred meters high beside Holy Soul Village. He was God King Tang, the one Qian Ningshuang, far away in Spirit City, had scorned.
He was not yet the Sea God Great Heavenly Venerable whose name shook countless worlds, nor the pure and noble God King Tang. He was merely a little brat who had to care for his dejected old father, though he himself did nothing but cook and wait for Village Chief Old Jack to hand out charity.
"More than five years have passed. I've been following the steps from my past life one by one. My Martial Soul should awaken soon, right? I'll be seeing my Xiao Wu soon, my beloved!"
A look utterly unfitting for his age appeared in the young God King Tang's eyes. There was longing, reflection, and melancholy within it, but the largest portion of that gaze was occupied by a fiery, blazing devotion.
That was right. This young Third Gege was no original model, but a God King reborn from tens of thousands of years in the future!
"Time to go back." Tang San glanced at the sky. His thin little body sprang up as he ran down the mountain. Had anyone seen him then, they would surely have stared wide-eyed in shock. Every stride covered nearly a zhang, and the uneven, pothole-ridden mountain ground posed no obstacle to him at all. He easily avoided it all, moving at high speed faster than most adults.
After returning home, Tang San took out two chipped bowls with more than ten missing pieces between them and filled them with two bowls of already-cooked porridge. Calling it porridge would be generous; it was more water than anything else, with so few grains of rice that they could nearly be counted at a glance. The sight would break hearts and bring tears to the eyes. A growing child ate only this much in a day—never mind nutrition, surviving at all was a miracle! Yet Tang San clearly did not care. Nutrition? Hadn't he grown up like this in his past life too? He had even become the lofty Asura God King, proving that his talent would not be affected by external things such as nutrition.
"Baba, food's ready."
After a long while, the curtain to the inner room was lifted, and a tall figure staggered out.
He was a middle-aged man who looked nearly fifty, with an exceptionally tall and burly frame. His appearance, however, was hard to praise.
He wore a tattered robe without even a patch on it, exposing the bronze skin beneath. His originally decent features were covered in a waxy yellow pallor, and he looked half-asleep. His hair was a messy bird's nest, and his beard had gone untrimmed for who knew how many days. He was Tang San's dejected old father, Tang Hao.
Tang Hao walked to the table, grabbed a bowl, and poured it into his stomach in huge gulps without caring whether it was porridge or water.
"Baba, drink slowly. There's still porridge."
"If there's work, take it first. I'll do it this afternoon. I'm going back to sleep for a while."
After eight-tenths of the pot of porridge—or water—had gone into his belly, Tang Hao drooped his eyelids and looked at Tang San as he gave the instruction. Seeing Tang San nod in agreement, he turned toward the bedroom.
But after turning around, once Tang San could no longer see his face, Tang Hao's expression instantly turned livid. His eyes snapped open, no longer carrying that drowsy look. They were filled with killing intent and fury. That thing of unknown origin had gone up the hill again this morning to practice Self-Created Soul Skills and cultivate Soul Power, hadn't it? Did it really think the eyes of a Title Douluo were blind? He had never believed his son could be so gifted that, before learning any knowledge about Spirit Masters, he could create Soul Skills and Soul Power circulation paths on his own.
After Tang Hao discovered traces of Soul Power circulating within Tang San's body when Tang San was two years old, he had begun to endure it. He had endured it for years now. If he had not been one hundred percent certain that body belonged to his son, he would have smashed that thing into pulp with one hammer blow long ago.
Just wait. The Martial Soul awakening was almost here. Everyone on the continent knew that Martial Souls were closely connected to the soul. A Martial Soul could not lie.
Then Clear Sky Douluo would see exactly what Martial Soul that unknown thing would awaken, who had sent it to occupy his son's body, and who was plotting to obtain Ah Yin's Spirit Bone! After all, Ah Yin's Spirit Bone was the only thing on him worth coveting now.
Yet when he thought of that, a trace of pain and struggle surfaced in Tang Hao's murderous eyes. What if it really did not awaken the Clear Sky Hammer and Blue Silver Grass? That was his son's body. Could he truly destroy the only bloodline he shared with Ah Yin with his own hands?
"Baba, can I use this piece of pig iron?"
Tang San's voice interrupted Tang Hao's killing intent and struggle. Tang San obviously had no idea what Tang Hao was thinking, nor did he know how his father viewed him.
He only wanted to repeat the steps of his previous life. At this point in his past life, he had asked his father for pig iron and begun learning smithing, hadn't he? Then his father had begun teaching him the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer, hadn't he?
Although Tang San had long since known how to use the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer, and could even use it better than Tang Hao, he still needed a reason to use it openly in the future. Besides, Tang San greatly enjoyed the process of his father teaching him a craft. It allowed him to experience the rare affection of a father.
Moreover, this piece of pig iron containing Iron Essence was ideal for forging Hidden Weapons. This was going to be his first Hidden Weapon—there was no way he could lose it.
As for how great a price the farmer who had delivered the iron to the village had paid to acquire this piece of pig iron containing Iron Essence, Tang San did not care. It was only a piece of iron. Once it was in his hands, naturally his own needs came first.
Tang Hao composed his expression, doing his best to make sure no one could see the killing intent that had just been on his face. He turned and glanced at the piece of pig iron.
"Hm? There's Iron Essence in this?" He had not expected this unknown thing to possess such an eye for it. Did it understand blacksmithing as well? Tang Hao became interested.
"Do you want to become a blacksmith in the future?"
Of course Tang San wanted to become a blacksmith. Without question, blacksmithing was the profession best suited for making Hidden Weapons.
But forging Hidden Weapons was not the same as Tang Hao forging farming tools for ordinary villagers. As the master of the Tang Sect and the Asura God King, Tang San naturally looked down on that. His father, the Clear Sky Douluo who had once dominated the world, would not have done such work either if not for fleeing Spirit Hall's pursuit.
Of course, according to his past life, he should not yet have known about his father's past at this time. So he still needed to put on an act.
"Baba, you're getting old. In a few years, once I'm bigger, teach me to forge kitchenware so I can take over your work."
"A blacksmith... that doesn't sound too bad."
What followed was naturally a heartfelt father-son conversation between two father and son who each had their own little calculations.
After Tang Hao set Tang San the test of hammering ten thousand times, Tang Hao continued pretending to be a dejected corpse, while Tang San began repeating the grueling ironworking process from his previous life. Having experienced it in his mind did not mean Tang San's body had experienced it. Hard work was still hard work.
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