Rebirth of the God King

On the same day that Qian Ningshuang awakened her martial soul in Martial Soul City, in Holy Soul Village, south of Nuoding City in the Fasinuo Province of the Heaven Dou Empire.

A young boy with neat black hair and wheat-colored skin was sitting on a small hill only a hundred meters high, adjacent to Holy Soul Village. He was none other than the Tang God King, who was held in contempt by Qian Ningshuang far away in Martial Soul City.

He was not yet the Sea God Great Heavenly Venerable, the pure and noble Tang God King known across the myriad worlds. He was merely a brat who needed to look after his decadent old father, yet did nothing but wait for handouts from the village chief, Old Jack.

"It's been over five years. I am following the steps of my past life one by one. I should be awakening my martial soul soon. I'll be seeing my Xiao Wu shortly, my beloved!"

The young Tang God King's eyes revealed a gaze that did not match his age. In that gaze, there was nostalgia, lament, and sighing, but what occupied the largest percentage of his expression was a deep, burning affection.

Yes, this young Tang San was not the original version, but the God King reborn from tens of thousands of years in the future!

"Time to go back." Tang San looked at the sky, his thin body leaping up as he ran toward the foot of the hill. If anyone were to see him now, they would surely stare in astonishment; every step he took covered nearly ten feet. The uneven, pitted ground of the mountain had no effect on him at all as he nimbly dodged obstacles, moving faster than most adults.

Upon arriving home, Tang San took out two bowls with more than ten chips in them and served two bowls of porridge that had already been cooked. It was less like porridge and more like water; the few grains of rice inside could almost be counted at a glance. It was truly a sight to break one's heart and bring tears to one's eyes. For a growing child to eat only this much in a day—forget nutrition, it was a miracle he was even alive! But Tang San clearly didn't care. Nutrition? Didn't he grow up the same way in his past life, eventually becoming the high and mighty Asura God King? This proved that his talent would not be affected by trivialities like nutrition.

"Daddy, time to eat."

A moment later, the curtain to the inner room was lifted, and a tall figure walked out with a somewhat staggering gait.

He was a middle-aged man who looked to be nearly fifty years old, yet his physique was extremely tall and burly. However, his attire was nothing to boast about.

He wore a tattered robe without even a single patch, exposing the bronze-colored skin beneath. His features, which would have been considered decent, were covered in a sallow, waxy layer. He looked bleary-eyed, his hair was as messy as a bird's nest, and he hadn't groomed his beard in who knew how many days. This was Tang San's decadent old father, Tang Hao.

Tang Hao walked to the table, grabbed the bowl, and without caring whether it was porridge or water, gulped it down into his stomach.

"Daddy, drink slowly, there is more."

"If there is work, take it first; I'll do it in the afternoon. I'm going to sleep a bit more."

After the pot of porridge—or water—was mostly in his stomach, Tang Hao looked at Tang San with drooping eyelids and gave his instructions. Seeing Tang San nod in agreement, he turned and walked toward the bedroom.

However, once he turned his back and Tang San could no longer see his face, his expression instantly turned leaden, and his eyes snapped open, no longer looking bleary-eyed. His gaze was filled with killing intent and fury. Had this unknown entity gone to the hill again this morning to practice self-created soul skills and cultivate soul power? Did it really think his eyes as a Title Douluo were blind? He had never believed his son could be such a genius as to create his own soul skills and internal energy circulation paths without any prior knowledge of soul masters.

Ever since Tang Hao discovered traces of soul power circulating in Tang San's body when he was two, he had begun to endure. He had endured for years; if he hadn't been one hundred percent certain that this body belonged to his son, he would have hammered this thing into a pulp long ago.

Wait a little longer. The martial soul awakening was almost here. It was common knowledge on the continent that martial souls were inextricably linked to the soul; a martial soul could not lie.

When the time came, he, the Clear Sky Douluo, would see what kind of martial soul this unknown entity possessed, who had sent it to occupy his son's body, and who was plotting against Ah Yin's soul bone! After all, the only thing he had left that was worth coveting was Ah Yin's soul bone.

But at the thought of this, a trace of pain and struggle flickered in Tang Hao's killing-intent-filled eyes. What if it really wasn't the Clear Sky Hammer or the Blue Silver Grass? That was his son's body; did he really have to personally extinguish the only bloodline left between him and Ah Yin?

"Daddy, can I use this piece of raw iron?"

Tang San's voice interrupted Tang Hao's murderous thoughts and struggle. Tang San clearly had no idea what Tang Hao was thinking, nor how this father viewed him.

He only wanted to repeat the steps of his past life. In his past life, wasn't this the time he asked his father for raw iron to start learning blacksmithing, after which his father began teaching him the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer?

Although Tang San already knew 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 enjoyed the process of his father teaching him skills; it allowed him to experience a rare sense of fatherly love.

Moreover, this piece of raw iron containing Iron Essence was perfect for forging his hidden weapons. This would be his first hidden weapon; he couldn't let it go to waste.

As for the cost the farmer in the village had paid to obtain this piece of iron with Iron Essence, Tang San didn't care. It was just a piece of iron; once it was in his hands, he would naturally prioritize his own needs first.

Tang Hao adjusted his expression, trying hard to hide the killing intent from earlier, and glanced at the raw iron.

"Oh? There's Iron Essence in this?" He hadn't expected this unknown entity to have such an eye for detail, or to understand blacksmithing? Tang Hao became interested.

"Do you want to be a blacksmith in the future?"

A blacksmith—Tang San certainly wanted to be one; the profession was undoubtedly the most suitable for him to forge hidden weapons.

But as for hidden weapons, he, the dignified Tang Sect leader and Asura God King, naturally looked down on the kind of work Tang Hao did, forging farm tools for commoners in the village. If it weren't for escaping the pursuit of Martial Soul Hall, his father, the world-dominating Clear Sky Douluo, wouldn't be doing this either.

Of course, following the path of his past life, he shouldn't know about his father's past, so he still needed to put on an act.

"Daddy, you're getting old. In a few years, when I'm a bit bigger, you can teach me to forge kitchenware and let me take over your work."

"A blacksmith, that doesn't sound bad."

Next, naturally, the father and son, each with their own hidden agendas, began a conversation filled with "deep father-son affection."

After Tang Hao set a requirement for Tang San to forge ten thousand times, Tang Hao continued his decadent act of playing dead, while Tang San began to repeat the arduous process of blacksmithing from his previous life. Just because his mind had experienced it didn't mean his body had; the hard work was still necessary.