Na'er, How About I Become Your Sister-in-Law?

Time hurried by, and three years passed in the blink of an eye.

In the classroom of Martial Soul Class One at the Red Mountain Junior Soul Master Academy in Aolai City, East Sea, sunlight spilled through the window frames onto rows of young boys and girls, filling the room with youthful vitality.

A round-bodied boy with chubby cheeks hurried over to a desk. Lowering his voice, he anxiously nudged the boy beside him.

"Hey, Wulin, did you hear? Zhou Shaolong from the next class broke through to rank ten today. After school, his family is taking him to choose a soul spirit! How's your soul power coming along? You said you were close to the rank-ten bottleneck ages ago."

The chubby boy knitted his brows, his voice full of concern. "We're about to graduate from the junior academy. If you can't get past rank ten before graduation, you won't get a recommendation letter from the academy. It'll be several times harder to get into an intermediate soul master academy in the city then. You'll be at such a disadvantage."

Tang Wulin slowly turned to look at his friend.

Three years had flown by. His face was still delicate and youthful, his features little changed from childhood, but he had grown considerably. From a child barely 1.2 meters tall, he had reached 1.45 meters, well above the average for his age. His figure was straight and well-proportioned, his skin fair and clean. His soft, fluffy, neatly cropped azure hair framed an exquisite face. He was every inch an adorable young boy.

He still wore a plain white short-sleeved shirt with white shorts that had begun to pill. His simple clothes offered no hint of anything special.

Precisely because of those outstanding looks, quite a few girls in his class had secretly developed crushes on him over the past three years, even though everyone knew his innate soul power was only rank five and his martial soul was Blue Silver Grass, universally acknowledged as a trash martial soul. His prospects as a soul master were doomed to be limited.

But even the finest looks could not bridge the enormous gulf in soul power talent.

There were fifteen students in this year's martial soul class. By now, six had successfully broken through to rank ten, obtained their first soul spirits, and set foot on the true path of a soul master.

Tang Wulin lowered his eyes to his open palm and sighed silently, helplessness and bitterness filling his heart.

Over those three years, he had not slacked off for a single day. He rose before dawn to cultivate his soul power, then spent every spare moment in the forging workshop, diligently practicing under Mang Tian and tempering his body and soul power. Day after day, he had never shirked.

In forging, he had long since surpassed his peers. His understanding and strength steadily improved, earning Mang Tian's high regard. But his soul power cultivation could only be described as barely adequate.

Even with rank-five innate soul power, cultivating Blue Silver Grass was painfully slow. It was as though some inborn curse had shackled him, locking his cultivation speed firmly in place.

Only now had he barely reached the barrier to rank ten, and he still could not break through.

Of course, part of the reason was that Tang Wulin had squeezed his cultivation time to study forging more thoroughly. In his previous life, he had been a theoretical researcher; in this one, he had picked up a hammer instead. Learning an entirely new skill meant there was a great deal to study. Even so, he still cultivated soul power through meditation instead of sleeping every night. Yet, from the look of things, it did little to help him cultivate Blue Silver Grass.

Tang Wulin mocked himself helplessly in his heart.

Which protagonist in other fantasy or Douluo novels didn't race ahead with cheats, covering a thousand miles a day in cultivation and breaking through several ranks in mere months? Meanwhile, after three whole years of bitter cultivation, I've only just touched the threshold of rank ten. This is absurdly slow. If those heaven-defying protagonists heard about my cultivation speed, they'd laugh their teeth out.

Standing beside the classroom podium, homeroom teacher Lin Ximeng had been quietly observing her students. She had also taken in the exchange between the two boys.

When she first took charge of this class, Lin Ximeng had never paid Tang Wulin any special attention.

Although his innate soul power was rank five, his martial soul was the notorious trash martial soul, Blue Silver Grass. His talent sat at the very bottom of the entire junior soul master academy. In the Douluo Continent's soul master system, innate soul power not only determined the ceiling of a soul master's future growth, but also directly fixed their early cultivation speed. Geniuses with innate full soul power advanced a thousand miles a day, while soul masters with rank-five innate soul power naturally cultivated several times, or even dozens of times, more slowly.

Normally, Tang Wulin's talent would have given him a strong chance of reaching rank ten within three years. Unfortunately, he had awakened Blue Silver Grass. Using this universally acknowledged trash martial soul to sense the spiritual energy between heaven and earth was simply too slow. To put it bluntly, he might not cross the rank-ten threshold even after four or five years, and might struggle his whole life to become a true one-ring soul master. The difference in innate soul power certainly played a part, but the most fundamental issue was the quality of his martial soul.

Thus, from the beginning, Lin Ximeng had already passed judgment on this handsome young boy: mediocre talent, little chance of amounting to anything, and no need to spend too much effort on him.

But after observing him day after day, she gradually changed her mind.

Most of the talented students in her class were proud and often shirked their cultivation. Only Tang Wulin was always the most hardworking student in the room. Whether studying theory in class or cultivating soul power afterward, he was unfailingly meticulous and never went through the motions. Even when his progress was minuscule, he persevered without ever giving up.

When she discovered that this boy with rank-five innate soul power was actually approaching the rank-ten bottleneck, she was filled with bewildered disbelief.

She secretly observed Tang Wulin cultivating alone several times and finally found the answer.

Whenever Tang Wulin circulated his soul power and released the Blue Silver Grass martial soul from his palm, slender, tender shoots of Blue Silver Grass quietly sprouted from the soil around his feet. These spontaneously growing grasses clustered affectionately around him, ravenously absorbing the free-floating soul power between heaven and earth before feeding it all back into his body. Their steady assistance compensated for the shortcomings caused by his insufficient innate soul power and quietly accelerated his cultivation.

This affinity with the earth, far beyond that of ordinary Blue Silver Grass, finally solved the mystery in Lin Ximeng's heart.

At the same time, however, a new question lingered in her mind. According to the continent's records, ordinary Blue Silver Grass was merely the most mediocre plant-type trash martial soul. It could not possibly possess the strange ability to commune with the earth, spontaneously sprout grass, and absorb the soul power of heaven and earth to aid its host's cultivation.

What, exactly, was different about Tang Wulin's Blue Silver Grass?

She had no way to verify her suspicions and did not investigate further.

After all, the Red Mountain Junior Soul Master Academy was in a remote, resource-poor location. Its teaching staff was weak, and the quality of its students fell far short of academies in major cities. In previous years, only a handful of students had broken through to rank ten before graduation and secured recommendation letters. If Tang Wulin succeeded, it would be a genuine teaching achievement for her as his homeroom teacher, adding considerable luster to her record.

Yet even after recognizing Tang Wulin's diligence and discovering the hidden peculiarity of his martial soul, Lin Ximeng still did not attach too much importance to him.

On the Douluo Continent, talent had always determined one's standing. People always portioned out their favors according to talent.

Even if Tang Wulin worked hard enough and his martial soul concealed something unusual, the glaring flaw of his trash martial soul, Blue Silver Grass, remained. His ceiling was already set. At most, she paid him a little more attention than an ordinary student, but she still would not devote her energy to a soul master with a trash martial soul who was destined to go no further.

The world of soul masters had always been cruel and pragmatic. Before an absolute gulf in talent, hard work usually seemed pale and powerless.

The crisp dismissal bell rang out across the entire Red Mountain Junior Soul Master Academy. Students instantly poured out of the teaching buildings, their noisy voices filling the campus. Tang Wulin did not follow the crowd toward the school gates. Instead, he walked slowly toward the ordinary classes' building.

The passing of three years had allowed the already handsome Tang Wulin to grow into his looks. His face still held a trace of childishness, but its contours had become sharper and more striking, his features refined and well-formed. The air of a peerless handsome man was already beginning to emerge, making him especially eye-catching as he walked down the corridor.

At the entrance to an ordinary classroom, a group of eight- and nine-year-old girls were packing their things together. One spotted Tang Wulin's upright figure by the window and lightly elbowed Na'er beside her. A mischievous smile gleamed in her eyes as she teased softly, "Na'er, your brother's here to pick you up again. Are you really not going to consider letting me be your sister-in-law?"

Na'er immediately puffed out her cheeks and shook her head indignantly, her tone firm. "No. My brother won't have a sister-in-law for me in the future."

"No sister-in-law? Does Na'er want to keep her brother all to herself forever?" Her friend smiled even more impishly.

A faint blush instantly stained Na'er's snowy cheeks. She pressed her pink lips together without arguing, but deep down, she was firmly determined to stay by Tang Wulin's side forever.

The martial soul awakening ceremony six months earlier remained etched in Na'er's heart. At just six years old, she had stood on the awakening platform, only to fail to awaken a martial soul. At that moment, the once-lively little girl had fallen silent. All her joyful anticipation collapsed, leaving disappointment and unease entwined around her. Fortunately, Tang Wulin had always stayed with her and comforted her, while Tang Ziran and Lang Yue treated her as their own. Their gentle, attentive care gradually soothed the emptiness in her heart.

Without a martial soul, Na'er could not enter the elite classes dedicated to training soul masters and could only study in the academy's ordinary classes. Fortunately, most of the children there either had no martial soul or very little soul power. There was none of the prejudice and exclusion common in soul master circles, and she lived peacefully and comfortably there.

Three years had shed some of her childish awkwardness, and Na'er had grown increasingly delicate and lovely. Her once-neat silver crop had gradually grown out, with soft, silky hair draped loosely over her shoulders. It set off skin as white as warm, fine mutton-fat jade, so tender it seemed a breath might break it. Her amethyst eyes remained clear, untouched by a speck of dust, pure and clean. She had grown a little taller, but was still a sweet, soft little girl who made others want to cherish her.

Her gaze passed through the crowd and settled on the boy waiting outside. Na'er's eyes lit up, and her clear, sweet voice burst out. "Big brother!"

Ignoring her classmates' teasing, she set her short legs in motion and dashed toward Tang Wulin, plunging straight into his warm embrace and wrapping both arms tightly around his waist.

Tang Wulin was ready. He lifted his arms smoothly, supporting her slender, supple waist and catching her gently and securely.

Na'er buried herself in Tang Wulin's arms, her little face flushed red. The classmate who had teased her came closer and continued with a beaming smile, "Na'er, tell us the truth. You're not a little bride being raised in your brother's family, are you?"

"I'm not!" Na'er immediately protested, but her soft voice carried none of the force of a firm denial. Instead, she sounded a little guilty. Pretending to be indignant, she tightened her arms and clung to Tang Wulin, declaring quietly, "My brother is my brother. He's mine."

Tang Wulin chuckled softly. His warm palm gently ruffled her long silver hair before he looked up at the girls making a fuss beside them. "What's going on? What were you talking about?"

The girl at the front spoke without hesitation. "Big Brother Wulin, we were just discussing whether we should find Na'er a sister-in-law."

Tang Wulin froze briefly, surprise filling his eyes. These girls are eight or nine at the very most. Are children on the Douluo Continent really this precocious?

Without the slightest shyness, the girl nodded confidently. "That's right! If you're going to get married someday and give Na'er a sister-in-law, you have to consider us first. We're Na'er's best friends, after all. That's called not letting the fertile water flow into an outsider's field."

Her blunt words left Tang Wulin speechless. He coughed awkwardly twice, raised his right hand, and lightly flicked each of the chattering girls on the forehead.

"You little rascals. You're so young, yet your heads are full of this nonsense." He shook his head helplessly and refused to continue the embarrassing conversation. Bending down, he took Na'er's soft little hand. "All right, Na'er, stop fooling around with your classmates. It's time to go home."

Na'er proudly lifted her chin at her classmates and clutched Tang Wulin's fingers tightly. She stayed pressed close to his side with every step, following her brother out of the teaching building with a spring in her stride.

Tang Wulin knew that Na'er's situation was still exactly the same as in the original story. When she underwent martial soul awakening at six, there had been no response at all. She would remain without a martial soul for life.

Watching her peers gain martial souls and cultivate soul power, Na'er, who longed to follow the path of a soul master, had felt dejected and saddened more than once. Being unable to become a soul master was undoubtedly a devastating blow to a little girl harboring such hopes.

Fortunately, over those three years, Tang Wulin had patiently stayed beside her and comforted her. Tang Ziran and Lang Yue had also always soothed her gently. Their family's love gradually smoothed away her disappointment, keeping her from becoming trapped in self-recrimination and allowing her to retain her innocent, well-behaved nature.

For those three years, Tang Wulin had lived a life of constant shuttling between two places, with no time to spare. During the day, he attended classes punctually, studied soul master theory, and kept up his soul power cultivation. After school, once he had taken Na'er home, he immediately rushed to Mang Tian's forging workshop, immersing himself in furnace flames and the ringing of metal day after day.

At first, he could only clumsily hammer basic iron blocks, his palms repeatedly blistering and scabbing over. Now, his technique had become increasingly practiced, and his control of force, hammer strikes, and concentration all far exceeded those of his peers. His forging skills advanced a thousand miles a day, and he had long since left the novice stage behind.

Mang Tian had said outright more than once that Tang Wulin was the most gifted child in forging he had ever seen. His natural sense of strength and mental focus were one in ten thousand.

His soul power cultivation progressed slowly, constrained by his innate shortcomings. But forging had already become Tang Wulin's own source of confidence and fallback.

On the way home, an inexplicable emotion kept lingering in Tang Wulin's heart, and he could not help mocking himself.

Whenever he stood before the forging bench, swinging a heavy hammer to work the metal, watching sparks fly as the iron slowly took shape under his blows, he always felt an absurd yet vivid sense of unreality.

The Tang family's fate seemed to have been bound to smithing from beginning to end.

His ready-made biological father, Tang San, had once tempered himself through smithing. His ready-made grandfather, Tang Hao, had spent his life with a hammer, making his living through forging. Now it was his turn, and he was still rooted before a forge day after day, swinging a hammer and training bitterly day and night.

At that thought, Tang Wulin could not help lowering his head and chuckling, all his helplessness tucked into that smile. It seemed to be an inescapable fate carved into the Tang family's blood. After all those twists and turns, he had still ended up on the path of the hammer.

After safely taking the clingy Na'er home and telling her to stay there and behave, Tang Wulin turned and hurried toward Mang Tian's forging workshop.

The moment he pushed open the workshop door, he came face-to-face with a tall, upright young man in his twenties, whose features were plain and unassuming. Seeing him enter, the young man immediately smiled and raised a hand in greeting. "Wulin, you're here."

"Hello, Brother Long," Tang Wulin answered politely before asking, "What forging tasks did Uncle Mang Tian assign today?"

Even now, he still addressed Mang Tian as Uncle.

This was completely different from the original story. Mang Tian had never formally accepted him as a personal disciple.

At first, Tang Wulin had been deeply puzzled, even secretly shocked and bewildered. No one in all of Aolai City could match the forging talent he had displayed over the past three years. As one of this small city's finest blacksmiths, Mang Tian had no reason not to accept such a one-in-ten-thousand prospect.

But as they spent more time together, he gradually sensed that Mang Tian harbored considerations and personal motives of his own.

In truth, Mang Tian wanted to take Tang Wulin as his disciple more than anyone.

In his decades of work, Tang Wulin was the most terrifyingly gifted young forger he had ever encountered, without exception.

It was not merely that the boy learned extremely quickly, grasped forging theory with a single explanation, and possessed an exceptionally solid foundation. Rarer still were Tang Wulin's resilience, temperament, and determination, all far beyond his peers. No matter how tedious the repeated hammering became, how often his palms split, or how badly his arms ached until he could no longer raise them, he never showed the slightest desire to quit or complain. He remained calm and focused, with no distractions.

Whenever Mang Tian watched the boy concentrating on his hammer strokes at the forging bench, he could almost glimpse the youthful figure of the continent's greatest Divine Craftsman of the present age.

Yet he still delayed holding the discipleship ceremony and formally accepting him.

It was only because he himself had a ceiling he could never surpass.

Limited by his own talent, Mang Tian's forging attainments would remain stuck at the peak of the grandmaster level for life. Even a lifetime of effort could not break those shackles and carry him into the realm of a saint craftsman. He knew very well that his vision, techniques, and level all had shortcomings. He simply lacked the ability to guide the heaven-defyingly gifted Tang Wulin to the pinnacle of forging. If he rashly accepted him as a disciple, he would only hold back this peerless thousand-mile steed and restrict the boy's future.

Besides, Mang Tian had always felt immense regret over Tang Wulin's soul power talent.

Rank-five innate soul power paired with the trash martial soul Blue Silver Grass made the end of his soul master path visible at a glance.

But he did not look down on Tang Wulin because of it. Instead, he had another plan in mind.

What does low innate soul power matter? The world has never lacked heavenly treasures capable of defying heaven and changing fate. Many high-ranking soul masters used rare treasures to forcibly raise their soul power and talent. Although this amounted to pulling up seedlings to help them grow, damaging a soul master's foundation and leaving hidden injuries that were difficult to repair, it also completely destroyed any future possibility of becoming a Super Douluo. For orthodox soul masters, it was a grave taboo.

For Tang Wulin, however, things were entirely different.

His martial soul was already universally acknowledged as bottom-tier trash, and his prospects as a soul master were bleak to begin with. The quality of his foundation had long since ceased to matter.

If he could use heavenly treasures in the future to forcibly temper his body and raise his soul power, he could instead play to his strengths and avoid his weaknesses. He could abandon the soul master path that had never been viable, devote himself entirely to forging, and carve out his own road to the heavens as a blacksmith.

The furnace flames flickered, illuminating Mang Tian's thoughtful profile. As he watched the boy approach outside the window, he quietly made up his mind.

Even if he could not be the boy's master, he would give everything he had to protect this peerlessly talented youth and help him advance steadily.