Tang San in Different Places

The cold force in his mind surged once more, suppressing his chaotic thoughts. As he breathed heavily, the bewilderment and fear in his eyes gradually faded.

Just then, the child from the inner room walked out carrying a chipped coarse porcelain bowl filled with warm water, which he gently placed on the table in front of him.

The child was already six years old, dressed in washed-out, heavily patched coarse cloth clothes. His frame was much thinner and smaller than other children his age, yet he possessed a pair of exceptionally clear eyes. They were identical to those of Tang San in the Martial Soul Hall, only his eyes lacked the stability and ease of being wrapped in love, holding instead a maturity, forbearance, and caution far beyond his years.

He was Tang San, the boy Tang Hao had brought with him while fleeing.

The name was one he had chosen at random, leading the people of Holy Soul Village to believe there were two older sons before him, which helped him better conceal his identity.

For these poor country folk, this was quite normal; sometimes, children simply met with accidents and were gone.

Otherwise, they wouldn't have so many children—more children meant more blessings—not to mention that this was a world where one relied on their martial soul. There was always hope that one child would possess innate soul power after awakening their martial soul and become a great soul master.

Thus, no one doubted Tang San's identity, assuming he had two deceased older brothers and lived only with his slovenly father.

From the age of three or four, when he could stand steadily and reach the small stool, Tang San had learned to take care of himself and, by extension, this slovenly father who was drunk all day long.

His father was always drinking. When awake, he would either stare blankly at the wall or fix him with that complex, terrifying gaze, muttering about revenge and hatred he couldn't understand. When drunk, he would smash things, curse, and vomit everywhere, sometimes even sleeping for an entire day without a drop of water.

When hungry, he would stand on his small stool to cook brown rice porridge; when cold, he would pick up the tattered clothes his father threw on the floor and wrap them around himself. When his father was drunk, he had to clean up the mess, wipe his father's face, and feed him water. When the work in the blacksmith shop piled up, he had to help pull the bellows and pass iron blocks, his small hands calloused layer upon layer.

In his six years of life, he had never felt a day of fatherly love; the only warmth he had ever known came from Old Jack, the village chief.

"Father, drink some water. Drinking so much alcohol is bad for your health."

Tang San's voice was soft and childish, yet it lacked any hint of acting spoiled, carrying only a cautious, probing tone.

Tang Hao lifted his eyelids, swept a glance at him with murky eyes, and said nothing. He simply picked up the bowl, downed the water in one gulp, and reached for the half-empty jar of wine beside him, taking a swig. He remained in that same muddled, self-destructive state.

Tang San silently took back the bowl, turned, and picked up the broom, sweeping away the ceramic shards and wine stains bit by bit. His movements were practiced to the point of being heartbreaking, as if he had done it thousands of times.

He had just finished sweeping when the dilapidated door of the blacksmith shop creaked open. An old man with white hair leaning on a cane walked in—it was Old Jack, the village chief of Holy Soul Village.

He carried a cloth bundle. As soon as he entered, he smelled the pungent odor of alcohol and the stench of sweat from someone who hadn't bathed in ages. Seeing Tang San, who had just finished sweeping and still had dust on his small face, his expression darkened instantly.

"Little San, come here quickly! Stop working over there, watch out for the sparks from the furnace!"

Old Jack hurried over, pulled Tang San behind him, and then turned to look at Tang Hao, who was slumped in his chair. He struck the ground hard with his cane and began to scold him sharply.

"You damn Tang Hammer! Look at what you've become! All you know is drinking, drinking, and more drinking! The child is only six years old; he's been cooking, washing, and cleaning the shop for you since he was three or four. As his father, don't you feel any shame?!"

Tang Hao lifted his eyelids, gave Old Jack a faint, dismissive glance, and said nothing, taking another swig of wine. He remained completely indifferent.

"You!"

Old Jack was so angry his beard bristled. "If it weren't for your decent blacksmithing skills—making farm tools for the village cheaply and durably—I would have kicked you out of Holy Soul Village long ago! Look at yourself! Is there any other father in this village like you? Drunk and muddled every day, not even caring for your child! Do you have any conscience toward the child's late mother? I shouldn't have taken you in back then!"

At the mention of the word "mother," Tang Hao's movements froze abruptly. A flash of ferocity surged through his murky eyes as he glared at Old Jack. "My affairs are none of your concern."

"I don't want to care about you! But I cannot watch a child as good as Tang San suffer with you for the rest of his life!"

Old Jack trembled with rage. He let go of Tang San's hand, opened the cloth bundle, took out two steamed white flour buns and a piece of cooked cured meat, and pressed them into Tang San's hands. He said softly, "Little San, take these. These are buns Grandma Zhitun just steamed, along with some cured meat. Eat them while they're hot. Don't just follow your father and eat that flavorless brown rice porridge every day; it'll ruin your health."

If not for his help, he feared Tang San might have been starved to death by Tang Hammer.

Tang San took the buns, clutching them tightly in his small hands. He looked up at Old Jack, his clear eyes shimmering with moisture, and whispered, "Thank you, Grandpa Jack."

"What are you thanking me for, you poor child."

Old Jack patted his head, sighed, and glared at Tang Hao once more before softening his tone to speak to Tang San. "Little San, Grandpa came here today because there is something important I need to tell you."

Tang San blinked, looking at him with confusion. "What is it, Grandpa Jack?"

"In a few days, the awakening master from the Martial Soul Hall will come to our village to awaken the martial souls for all the children who have turned six!" Old Jack's face revealed a hint of a smile, his tone full of anticipation. "As long as you can awaken a martial soul and test for innate soul power, you can become a soul master! Then you can go to the Soul Master Academy in Nuoding City to learn skills, gain knowledge, and make something of yourself in the future!"

As he spoke, he squeezed Tang San's small hand firmly, his tone filled with heartache and expectation. "Once you become a soul master, you can leave this broken blacksmith shop, get away from your irresponsible father, and stop being his servant and suffering like this. Grandpa has already signed you up; I'll take you to awaken your martial soul when the time comes!"

Soul master?

Tang San's eyes lit up instantly.

He had heard the adults in the village say that soul masters were the most noble profession on the continent. Powerful soul masters could fly through the skies and burrow into the earth, possessing immense strength. Even the weakest soul master could escape the fate of facing the yellow earth and backing the sky for a lifetime.

He had never imagined that he would have the chance to become a soul master.

But just then, a thought he had secretly hidden for a long time suddenly surfaced.

The adults in the village, when idle, would always gather to discuss the major event from six years ago, discussing that human traitor Tang Hao, who was wanted by the entire continent.

They said that Tang Hao had sired a bastard with a hundred-thousand-year soul beast, and the child had been born exactly six years ago—making him the same age as himself.

They also said that the traitor Tang Hao was from the Clear Sky Sect, used a Clear Sky Hammer as his weapon, and was a one-armed Title Douluo.

One-armed... surnamed Tang... the child from six years ago...