A Loving Father and a Devoted Son

"Dad, dinner's ready."

Tang Hao opened his eyes and saw a boy of five or six standing in the doorway with a bowl.

The boy held a bowl of hot porridge. His clothes had faded white from washing, and beneath his young face lay a pair of deep-set eyes.

My head hurts!

Who am I?

Where am I?

The next instant, a flood of unfamiliar memories surged into his mind.

The Clear Sky Sect, Tang Xiao, Ah Yin, Qian Xunji, the Hundred Thousand Year Soul Ring...

Tang Hao looked down at his thick arms, then at the boy in the doorway. He fell silent.

Holy shit, I've been transported to another world!

And I've become Tang Hao, the Clear Sky Douluo.

So that kid at the door is Little San, public enemy number one across the universe?

A level ninety-five Titled Douluo, wielder of the Clear Sky Hammer, the world's strongest tool Martial Soul, with a Hundred Thousand Year Soul Ring and a Hundred Thousand Year Soul Bone.

With that kind of strength, he could walk sideways across the entire Douluo Continent.

Starting at max level. Who could stop me?!

Just as excitement took hold, a cool breeze swept in.

He looked up. The roof leaked, the windows were broken, and wine bottles littered the floor...

To live like this as a Titled Douluo, his predecessor had to be a talent of a special kind.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

The boy spoke again.

Tang Hao finally focused on him.

Tang San, an outer disciple of the Bashu Tang Sect, had secretly learned the inner sect's arts and reincarnated on the Douluo Continent after jumping off a cliff.

He looked six, but his mental age might have been greater than that of Old Jack, the village chief.

So here's the question: this guy grows up to be a hypocrite.

Should I smash him dead with one blow while he's still young?

The thought had barely surfaced when Tang Hao felt his heart clench. A fierce resistance rose from deep within him.

Clearly, the feelings left by his predecessor would not allow it.

For now, he could not suppress them completely.

"What a pain."

Tang Hao muttered a curse.

"Dad, are you feeling sick?"

Tang San set the porridge on the table and walked over.

Tang Hao waved him off and had no choice but to reconsider.

Looks like killing him is out.

Even setting aside the influence of his predecessor's emotions...

If he really killed Tang San, this child of destiny, would the course of events change completely?

Tang Hao was strong, but he was far from invincible.

His greatest advantage right now was his knowledge of the story.

Until he knew whether this world matched the original story exactly, wrecking its main plot would be no different from throwing away his trump card.

Besides, Tang San was still only an adult soul pretending to be a child. He had not done anything that called for his death.

Killing his own son over things that might happen in the future would be more than a little deranged.

Besides, Tang San had the Mysterious Heaven Skill, the Hidden Weapon Compendium, and the Tang Sect Secret Arts in his head.

Killing him outright would be a waste.

Forget it. I'll raise him for now.

Maybe some proper parenting can still save him?

"This porridge is for me?"

"Mm."

Tang Hao picked up the bowl and took a sip. His brow furrowed at once.

You call this porridge? Even rice water is thicker!

A mighty level ninety-five Titled Douluo ate worse than the stray dogs at the village entrance.

His predecessor was useless. Despite his extraordinary strength, he had insisted on wallowing in despair and playing the brooding, heartsick man.

He made a six-year-old look after him while he did nothing but forge iron and drink every day. That was no longer despair. It was shamelessness.

Yet in his predecessor's memories, he had believed keeping his distance from Tang San was a way to protect him.

Tang Hao's verdict: the man had been seriously unwell.

If Tang San had not been reborn with his memories, father and son would have starved to death.

"Dad, does the porridge taste bad today?"

"It's not the porridge."

Tang Hao put down the bowl. "Do we have any money left?"

Tang San froze.

This seemed to be the first time his father had ever cared about that.

"A few Copper Soul Coins. But we're nearly out of rice, and there's no wine left either."

At that, Tang San lowered his head like a child who had done something wrong.

Look at that. The kid could act even at this age.

What Tang Hao said aloud was, "Good. We're out of wine."

"What?"

"I'm not drinking anymore."

Tang San looked up, nearly losing his composure.

A flicker of confusion showed plainly in those childlike eyes.

Tang Hao almost laughed.

Still too young.

He can watch his words, but he hasn't learned to hide what's in his eyes.

"You don't believe me?"

"No." Tang San quickly regained his composure. "Drinking less is good for your health."

"Well said."

Tang Hao stood. At nearly two meters tall, he radiated an invisible pressure.

Tang San instinctively took half a step back, his right hand slipping slightly into his sleeve.

Tang Hao knew he had a crude Hidden Weapon of his own making concealed there.

So thoroughly prepared even against his own father. A Tang Sect disciple through and through.

His caution deserved praise, though his devotion as a son remained to be seen.

Tang Hao said nothing. He bent down, picked up the wine jar in the corner, and walked straight outside.

Splash!

He poured the last of the cheap wine into the ditch.

The sharp smell of wine spread through the air. Tang San stood in the doorway, looking more puzzled than ever.

"Dad, you really aren't going to drink anymore?"

"This stuff does nothing but harm your health."

Tang Hao tossed the jar aside. "My head wasn't clear before. It is now."

He glanced at the shabby yard, then down at his grease-stained clothes.

His first priority was not testing Tang San or figuring out how to seize opportunities. It was... taking a bath.

I stink so fucking bad! I smell like I just crawled out of a latrine.

Forget going to the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well. The stench would probably make Dugu Bo jump out and chase me off before I got close.

"Little San, heat a pot of water."

"Do you want some water to drink, Dad?"

"For a bath."

Tang San fell silent again.

When a man who had not bathed in years suddenly asked for a bath, it was enough to make anyone question reality.

"What are you standing there for?"

"I'll do it now."

Tang San turned toward the stove.

Tang Hao went back inside and began taking stock of what his predecessor had left behind.

A few ragged clothes, some Blacksmithing Tools, a small amount of money, and a Soul Tool hidden beneath the bedboards.

Inside the Soul Tool were several Gold Soul Coin cards and a wooden box.

A slender stalk of Blue Silver Grass lay in the box.

Its leaves swayed faintly, giving off the weakest trace of life.

At the same time, a wave of grief surged from deep within his body, so intense he could barely breathe.

Ah Yin.

Tang Hao was silent for a moment, then reached out and touched a leaf.

"I took your husband's body by accident. I'll accept what comes with that."

"But I'm not going to live as a widower. Forget it. We'll talk when you wake up."

His predecessor had been willing to drown in grief. Tang Hao was not.

If he had a chance to bring her back, he would. He could consider it fulfilling his predecessor's deepest wish.

But Tang Hao wanted a life of his own too. For instance, he wanted to meet that legendary Supreme Pontiff.

Suddenly, a leaf brushed his finger. Whether it was coincidence or she had understood him, he could not tell.

"Don't get clingy. We barely know each other."

Tang Hao closed the wooden box and put it away again.

Then Tang San called from outside.

"Dad, the water's ready."

"Mm."

Tang Hao went to the doorway and watched Tang San work with practiced ease.

"Little San."

"What is it?"

"You go out early every morning. Where do you go?"

Tang San's gaze shifted slightly, but his voice was full of childish innocence. "I just run around near the village."

"Run?"

"Mm. Grandpa Jack says I need to exercise more so I can take better care of you."

"Heh. What a wonderful son I have."

Tang Hao smiled and asked no more.

Tang San, however, grew wary.

He could not understand why a drunk who had spent years wallowing in despair had suddenly changed so much.

Had Dad discovered my secret?

Tang Hao had no intention of exposing him yet.

The story could stay on course, and he could keep raising Tang San. But from today on, they would live his way.

He walked into the yard and pointed back inside.

"After dinner, take all the wine bottles out and throw them away. Then clean the house."

Tang San blinked. "Huh?"

Tang Hao pulled off his shirt and looked back with a smile.

"I'll help you when I'm done bathing."

At those words, the confusion in Tang San's eyes deepened.

Tang Hao could not be bothered to explain.

So what if he suspects me?

Even if Tang Hao's body had fallen into a terrible state, killing Tang San would be no harder than crushing an ant.

Tang San had better keep up his act. Otherwise, Tang Hao would not mind teaching him a lesson the hard way.