Then he noticed something about Old Tang today...
He seemed different from before.
He looked younger, and he wore a suit of golden armor.
Long blue hair flowed down his back. A golden three-pronged helmet rested on his head, its central jewel shining brilliantly. In his right hand, he held a Golden Trident that seemed to embody boundless authority.
Everything around them had become a dark, star-filled void...
It was nothing like the golden hall he knew.
The stars were distant and cold, like points of light pinned to a black curtain, making the space feel all the more vast and solemn.
"Old Tang?"
Tang Wulin called out again.
"You should call me Dad."
Old Tang looked at him gently.
"Dad?"
Tang Wulin was stunned.
Wasn't Tang Ziran his dad?
Why was Old Tang saying he was his father?
"Yes. I'm your father."
"Tang Ziran and Lang Yue are your adoptive parents."
"A great deal happened back then. Your mother and I had no choice but to entrust you to them."
Old Tang—or rather, Tang San—spoke slowly.
"Wulin, do you know?"
"Ever since your sister and you came into our lives, I've been proud of everything I worked for."
"Because everything I did meant you could be proud when you spoke of your father."
As he said this, Tang San's eyes suddenly grew misty.
Only he knew, deep down,
just how much hardship and pain
lay behind those words.
The years he had struggled in the Divine Realm. The plans he had laid for a design ten thousand years in the making. The torment of leaving his own child on the Douluo Continent, with no choice but to let fate carry him into the unknown.
Tang Wulin stood there, emotions more tangled than anything he had ever felt churning inside