The Clear Sky Sect's delegation did not arrive until the very last moment before the Sect Ranking Tournament officially opened.
Ling Jing spotted Tang Hao at once.
After several months apart, Tang Hao looked even more disheveled. Gray streaked his hair, his face was buried in a beard, and he looked more than ten years older. He was coming ever closer to the blacksmith Ling Jing remembered—a man who had even relied on his son Tang San to cook and keep him fed.
Clearly, Tang Xiao's death had struck Tang Hao no less hard than Ah Yin's sacrifice had.
Seeing Tang Hao like this, Ling Jing even suspected he might neglect his cultivation and fail to break through to Titled Douluo.
But the woman beside Tang Hao caught Ling Jing's attention even more.
Her overall bearing was much like Ah Yin's, with the same warm, gentle air, though her looks and figure fell well short of Ah Yin's.
What Ling Jing found more interesting was her relationship with Tang Hao. They showed no intimacy and barely spoke, yet they stayed together the whole time, and the way she looked at Tang Hao was anything but innocent.
Ling Jing could not help clicking his tongue.
Honestly, if this woman had fallen for Tang Hao at first sight despite the wreck he had become, Ling Jing could only call it true love. Still, it was a good thing Tang Hao had found a new partner. It meant there was at least some chance Tang San would be born.
He just wondered what this woman's Martial Soul was.
After entering the venue, Tang Hao also raised his eyes slightly toward the towering Pope's Hall, unmistakable hatred flashing through them. But he soon noticed Ah Yin sitting beside Ling Jing.
Tang Hao clenched his