However, even though he had thought of how to prove himself, Tang San still couldn't feel happy.
Producing the hidden-weapon blueprints was simple, but their origins remained a huge problem.
A six-year-old designing a Sleeve Arrow might just barely be believable. After all, its structure wasn't all that complicated.
But the Godly Zhuge Crossbow, or even more powerful hidden weapons like Buddha's Fury Tang Lotus, Peacock Plume, and Pear Blossom Needle of Torrential Rain, would mean treating everyone else like fools.
Besides, the other party could detect lies. If he spouted a bunch of nonsense, they would only see it as an evasive excuse, and he would end up making things worse.
Ordinary hidden weapons weren't enough to clear Tang Hao of suspicion, either.
A Divine Craftsman could make items with the power of a Soul Emperor. He needed something at least more powerful than a Soul Emperor's strength to make them believe him.
If he couldn't explain where they came from, yet possessed hidden weapons countless times more terrifying than a Sleeve Arrow, that would look even more dangerous.
Sanzi's head immediately began to throb.
The truth—that he had lived in a previous life—obviously couldn't be revealed. So he had to fabricate a meticulous explanation that wouldn't arouse suspicion, or at least wouldn't be detected as a lie.
How was that any different from telling a colossal lie with a pile of truths?
Time ticked by, second by second. At one point, Gangzi tried again to persuade him to pin the whole thing on Tang Hao.
Tang San had clearly hesitated before, but this time he spoke with absolute moral conviction.
Every word he said overflowed with admiration for his father, like the surging waters of the Yangtze—endless and unstoppable. No matter what, he would never commit such an