Holy Soul Village was just as it had always been.
The old locust tree at the village entrance, the stone road, and the cooking smoke rising from a few homes were exactly as Tang San remembered them.
At the entrance to Holy Soul Village, Tang San led Xiao Wu onward. The closer they came to the Blacksmith Shop, the slower he walked, biting his lip, his face tense.
Xiao Wu followed beside him, looking around curiously and murmuring, "So this is where you grew up, Little San. It's pretty nice."
Tang San lowered his head and gave a distracted "Mm."
They reached the Blacksmith Shop and stopped.
"Little San, wasn't your home a smithy? How did it turn into a garbage dump?" Xiao Wu blinked at the little building piled with junk and rubbish, speaking without mincing words.
Tang San swallowed too. He knew Tang Hao never did anything around the house; cooking, cleaning, laundry-he had handled it all himself.
But he had only been away for two short months. How had his home become a rubbish heap?
The shop door stood half-closed, its panels covered in dust. The furnace had long since gone cold, its pitch-black chamber gaping like an open mouth.
A thin layer of dust coated the anvil, and several hammers and pairs of tongs lay scattered across the floor.
Scrap iron stood waist-high in the corner, draped in cobwebs and giving off a mingled stench of rust and spoiled food.
Tang San reached out and pushed the door open.
It creaked.
The room was empty, and a sour stink hit him in the face.
Tang San had long since grown used to that smell. He kicked aside a rubbish bag on the floor and slowly walked inside, his gaze moving from the furnace to the bed, then from the bed to the stove.
Two bowls sat on the stove, one upside down and the other cracked. A few hard, moldy steamed buns lay along its edge, with flies circling over them.
But where had Tang Hao gone?
"Dad..." His voice was soft, squeezed out of his throat as though he feared disturbing something.
Tang San stood before the anvil, his little hand brushing its cold surface. His fingertips traced through the iron dust, leaving a slender mark.
"I... just wanted to come back and see you."
His voice trembled, his shoulders drawn tight.
"Do you hate me so much that you won't even see me one last time...?"
Tears welled in his eyes. He bit his lower lip hard, stubbornly refusing to let them fall.
Xiao Wu stood in the doorway, the smile long gone from her face.
She looked at the empty shop, then at Tang San's slight figure from behind, and felt something clutch at her heart.
"Little San..." She walked inside and gently took his hand.
"Don't stand here anymore. Come on, let's sit outside."
Half pulling and half dragging him, she brought Tang San to sit on the threshold.
A dirt road lay before the doorway. The wind sent a few dead leaves tumbling along it, and not a soul stood at its far end.
Xiao Wu took a wooden comb from inside her clothes. It was a Red Sandalwood Comb, simple and old-fashioned, with a crooked little rabbit carved into its handle.
Holding the comb, Xiao Wu hesitated. This was no ordinary comb. Her mother had made it herself, and it was a keepsake she had left behind.
When her mother gave it to her, she had also told her something important:
If you ever meet a man you truly love, let him comb your hair with this comb. A woman should let only one person comb her hair in her lifetime.
Xiao Wu gripped the Red Sandalwood Comb and looked again at Tang San, who was staring blankly down the street, utterly lost. The last trace of hesitation faded from her face.
"Little San, turn around," Xiao Wu said.
Tang San kept his head down and did not move.
Xiao Wu wrinkled her nose at that and threw every other consideration aside. She reached over, turned him by the shoulders, and gathered the hair at the back of his head into her hand.
"Little San, listen to me." As she spoke, Xiao Wu slowly drew the comb down from the crown of his head.
"I've never met your dad, but that old bastard doesn't even cook or clean, and the whole place reeks. Crying over someone like that is a waste of every single tear that hits the ground."
Her hands were clumsy. Whenever she encountered a knot, she paused and slowly teased it apart with her fingers.
Tang San trembled slightly at her words. "Xiao Wu, I understand, but he's still my fa-"
"Oh, Little San, you're so silly! Your dad isn't the only family you have. You still have me, and Teacher Li!"
At Xiao Wu's mention of Li Hanqiu, Tang San's eyes brightened, as though he had found a new anchor in life.
As Xiao Wu combed Tang San's hair, she counted off on her fingers:
"Teacher Li may wear a stern face all day, and he's really fierce when he makes me run laps as punishment. But when has he ever forgotten us when preparing medicinal baths, buying treats, or getting new clothes and shoes?"
Her words flowed more easily as she went on. Stroke by stroke, the comb smoothed Tang San's long hair into order.
Tang San's tears fell with a soft patter onto his knees.
"Mm."
He sniffled. His voice still held a sob, but he managed a faint smile.
"You're right, Xiao Wu. I still have you, and... Teacher."
Xiao Wu giggled and tilted her head to peek at his face from the side. "So our little crybaby really isn't crying anymore?"
Tang San wiped his face, his eyes red and swollen. "...X-Xiao Wu, thank you. You're so kind."
"Can't be helped. I'm your senior sister, after all!" Xiao Wu planted her hands on her hips, utterly confident in her reasoning.
They looked at each other, and neither could help laughing.
Tang San leaned against Xiao Wu's shoulder. She pushed the comb into his hand. "Your turn. Do my hair too. I want, um... the kind that swings back and forth on both sides."
"Those are pigtails. I only know how to make a scorpion braid," Tang San said quietly.
"Then why didn't you say so earlier? My hair's already been... Never mind, never mind. Just keep combing."
The setting sun slanted down.
The two youngsters sat shoulder to shoulder on the threshold, one braiding the other's hair as the evening breeze gently stirred the loose strands.
The musty smell from the Blacksmith Shop had dispersed, leaving only the scent of earth and fresh grass.
That evening, they went to the little hill behind Holy Soul Village.
The two youngsters sat on the hillside and watched the sun sink little by little. Clouds blazed across the horizon, their crimson light spilling over the whole hill.
Xiao Wu stretched out her legs and flopped backward onto the grass. "Little San, I'm telling you, the stars must look especially bright from here."
"The wind's been strong at night lately. You'll catch a chill."
"Then we'll huddle closer. If we hug each other, we won't catch a chill." Xiao Wu patted the spot beside her.
Tang San moved over and rested his head on her shoulder.
The wind blew from beyond the hill, pleasantly cool.
"Xiao Wu."
"Hm?"
"Can I call you... Sister Xiao Wu?"
Xiao Wu shot upright, her eyes round as saucers. "What did you call me? Say it again!"
Tang San blushed and turned his head away. "...I'm not saying it again."
"Say it, say it! You already said it once!" Xiao Wu pounced on him and shook his shoulders.
Tang San laughed as she shook him, then quietly called her again. "Sister Xiao Wu."
Xiao Wu slapped her chest, her spirit soaring to the clouds. "Good! From now on, Little San, you're my little sister! If anyone bullies you, Sister Xiao Wu will be the first to avenge you!"
"Mm, then I'll protect you too, Xiao Wu!" Tang San patted his chest in promise.
Xiao Wu paused, then raised a hand and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Little San, if-and I'm only saying if-what if... one day, lots of people wanted to kill me? What would you do?"
Xiao Wu spoke suddenly, and a close listener would have caught the nervousness in her voice.
Tang San did not hesitate. His voice was quiet, but exceptionally firm. "Anyone who wants to kill Xiao Wu will have to step over my body first."
"If anyone tries to lay a hand on Xiao Wu, I, Tang San, won't yield a single inch!"
As Tang San's words fell, Xiao Wu froze, rooted to the spot.
She looked at Tang San, and her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
The night wind swept over the hilltop. Moonlight stretched the two youngsters' shadows long, and slowly they leaned together.
That night, beneath the starry sky of Holy Soul Village, they talked about many things.
Tang San spoke of his childhood days in the village. Xiao Wu told him how she had traveled all the way from a distant place, what kinds of people she had met along the way, and what hardships she had endured.
As they talked, they began to laugh. After the laughter, they fell quiet again, leaving only the chirping of insects and the sound of the wind.
By the time they rose to leave the hill, most of the gloom in Tang San's eyes had lifted.
He glanced back at the pitch-black Blacksmith Shop.
From today onward, I have no father.
Tang San told himself inwardly.
But I still have my teacher and my sister.
In his previous life in the Tang Sect, he had been an orphan and had never seen his birth father or mother.
After being transported into this life and having Tang Hao as his dad, he had thought he might finally experience a father's love.
He had given everything he could, endured everything he could, and yielded to his father time and time again.
Yet in the end, Tang Hao had not even been willing to see Tang San one last time...
Since Tang Hao had been so heartless, he no longer wanted this father either!
He still had Li Hanqiu, Teacher Li.
The man who reached out to him when he crouched in a corner, who bought him new shoes and clothes, and who shielded him from the rumors sweeping through the academy.
That was his true father!
Xiao Wu took his hand and skipped down the hill. "Let's go! Back to the academy! I want Teacher's braised radish!"
"When did Teacher agree to make that for you?"
"I'll put in my request when we get back tonight!"
"Teacher won't agree..."
"Then I'll cry! I'll act cute! Either way, he'll definitely make it for me!"
The youngsters' laughter rippled along the dark road, gradually fading into the wind.
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