Tang Yuehua had sent no one to invite Tang Hao, nor had she asked whether he would come.
She simply held her child quietly, maintaining just the right composure amid the congratulations.
Deep within the stronghold, in a quiet courtyard, Tang Hao sat alone on an old bamboo chair beside a stone table, an empty wine bowl in his hand. The shadow of the old locust tree stretched from beneath his feet to the foot of the wall, swallowing the sunlit ground inch by inch.
Faint noise drifted from afar. The child's hundred-day banquet was underway in the main hall.
By the time those sounds crossed most of the stronghold to reach this secluded courtyard, they had blurred into broken, indistinct murmurs.
Tang Hao could imagine the scene. Tang Xiao would be there, along with the elders and stewards. Yuehua would be seated in the place of honor with the child in her arms, accepting everyone's congratulations.
He had no intention of going.
It wasn't that he didn't want to. Tang Hao simply didn't know in what capacity he could attend. He was the child's uncle, and also the child's father.
Tang Hao had no idea what expression to wear or what to say.
He lowered his gaze to the empty wine bowl in his hand and sighed.
Ten days later, the Angel Clan set out.
The morning of their departure was clear. A thin veil of mist covered the Gutres Hills, and gray-white stone walls appeared and vanished within it like an ancient castle floating among the clouds.
Qian Hantian stood before the clan grounds' main gate. Behind him were Qian Chonglang, Qian Yunlan, and twenty carefully selected clan members.
Most of them were Soul Douluo or stronger, and two elders at the Titled Douluo level accompanied them.