Dark Undercurrents

The last glow of the setting sun had completely sunk behind the western hills, and night fell over Holy Soul Village like a soft veil.

In the Ning Family Courtyard, the lamps had just been lit.

The dancing firelight from the stove cast Liu Lan's busy figure onto the earthen wall. Meat filling for tomorrow's steamed buns simmered in the pot, its rich fragrance spreading with the steam and filling the air with a comforting sense of everyday life.

After washing the dishes, Ning Xiaohe leaned over the table beneath the faint oil lamp, diligently reviewing the few characters her brother had taught her that day. Her little face looked especially focused in the shifting light and shadows.

Ning Chuan sat nearby with a copy of General Text Pronunciation and Interpretation in his hands. He appeared to be reviewing it, but his mind had long since immersed itself in deducing deeper techniques for exerting force with the Spirit Rhino Bull Fist.

Ning Dazhuang sat on the doorstep with a dry tobacco pipe between his lips, puffing away. Under the firelight, his dark face held less of its usual heaviness and more of a rare peace.

Watching his wife work, his children study quietly, and listening to the bubbling stew in the pot, the anxiety born from their sudden "fortune" and the prospect of soon "eating through it all" seemed to fade somewhat in this warm scene.

Money spent was money spent. As long as the children are healthy, nothing else matters, Ning Dazhuang silently told himself, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that merged into the night.

It was a harmonious, warm rural evening, filled with simple hopes for the future.

Yet beneath that tranquility, a pair of cold, sharp eyes silently looked down upon this seemingly ordinary village like an eagle circling high above the heavens.

At the village's edge stood the Blacksmith Shop.

Compared to the warmth of the Ning Family, this place was especially bleak and oppressive.

A simple dinner sat on the battered square table: a bowl of watery porridge so thin one could see the bottom, and a dish of dark, salted pickled vegetables.

Tang San silently shoveled down the porridge in his bowl, his movements quick yet utterly soundless.

Tang Hao slouched beside the table, holding a grimy wineskin in one hand. The pungent smell of cheap ale mixed with rust and sweat, filling the cramped room.

His eyes were cloudy, and he looked drunk enough to fall asleep at any moment.

But if anyone could perceive the intangible realm of spiritual awareness, they would have been horrified to discover that a vast spiritual force, as boundless as the sea yet as condensed as silk, spread soundlessly from Tang Hao like spilled mercury, covering the entirety of Holy Soul Village.

Every wisp of cooking smoke, every dog bark, even the quiet conversations within each household, lay within his perception.

Ever since that day when a pure and unusual aura of light had appeared in the back mountain, the vigilance beneath Tang Hao's outward decadence had risen to its highest level.

He would never allow any potential threat to approach his son, Tang San.

Naturally, the changes in the Ning Family over the past few days had also fallen under his watch.

Ning Chuan returning home late, Ning Chuan entering the city, the Ning Family improving their meals, Ning Chuan and Ning Xiaohe practicing that crude boxing technique...

Everything played out clearly within Tang Hao's spiritual perception like a silent film.

Yet there was only indifference in Tang Hao's heart.

Their blood and vitality have grown somewhat. That boxing technique... is crude beyond measure. Tang Hao's spiritual power swept across the Ning Family Courtyard, lingering for only an instant on the active, surging blood and vitality of Ning Chuan and Ning Xiaohe, enhanced by the Foundation Establishment Pill and the Spirit Rhino Bull Fist, before moving away without concern.

In the eyes of this former Clear Sky Douluo, who had once stood at the peak of the continent, such minor physical improvements were no different from ants growing somewhat stronger legs.

Without Soul Power, one could not touch upon the fundamental power of this world.

No matter how strong an ant became, it was still an ant.

Beneath the Clear Sky Hammer, all would be reduced to dust.

What Tang Hao truly cared about was the mysterious power that might threaten Tang San, as well as that pure aura of light so refined that it made his heart tremble.

As for the ordinary family affairs and physical changes of a farming household like the Ning Family, they could not stir the slightest interest in him.

As long as they did not involve fluctuations of Soul Power, did not approach the Blacksmith Shop, and did not disturb Xiao San, even if they tore down their house and rebuilt it, it had nothing to do with him.

Tang San quickly finished eating, efficiently cleared away the dishes, then sat on a small stool in the corner and began processing the medicinal herbs he had gathered from the mountains yesterday under the dim oil lamp.

Tang San's movements were skilled and focused. His nimble fingers sorted and washed the herbs, or used crude tools to carry out preliminary processing.

His eyes gleamed with a calmness and wisdom far beyond his years.

He would secretly use some of these herbs to prepare the basic medicinal liquid passed down by the Tang Sect, aiding his cultivation of the Mysterious Heaven Skill and training in the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer. The better-quality herbs would be saved and taken to Nuoding City when an opportunity arose, where he could sell them for necessary supplies.

Tang Hao's spiritual power lingered longest on his son. Sensing the faint yet tenacious Soul Power within Tang San slowly growing, and sensing his meticulous handling of the herbs, a nearly imperceptible trace of gratification and complexity flickered deep in his eyes.

Xiao San's talent and temperament far surpass those of ordinary people... Given enough time, he will surely surpass me in the future. Tang Hao took a gulp of wine. The fiery liquid burned his throat, but it could not suppress the bone-deep pain caused by Ah Yin's sacrifice years ago, nor his desire to protect Tang San.

Any factor that might hinder Xiao San's growth must be removed in advance. His spiritual power swept across the village once more, lingering especially long in the direction of the back mountain. The doubts and killing intent from that day had not fully dissipated.

The night deepened.

The lights in the Ning Family Courtyard had long since gone out, and steady breathing drifted from within. The whole family had fallen into deep sleep.

In the Blacksmith Shop, Tang San had also put away the herbs. Sitting cross-legged on a bed covered in dry straw, he began his unwavering nightly cultivation of the Mysterious Heaven Skill.

Tang Hao still held the wineskin and leaned against the doorframe, as though he had fallen asleep.

But his spiritual power remained draped over the village like the most loyal guard, alert to any unusual fluctuation of Soul Power or foreign aura.