Saintess Qian Renxue, blessings for all eternity

Tang Hao raised his head and glanced at him.

Over the past two months, Tang San had asked similar questions every few days. As the days passed, Tang Hao had given up hope completely.

Tang Hao had thought it through. Elder Tang Laoya was most likely genuine, and so was the Tang Sect.

But their promise to let them join the Tang Sect and return Ah Yin and the Soul Bone had been a lie...

The Tang Sect had deep reserves. It had seen no worth in Tang San or in Tang Hao himself, so it had no intention of returning Ah Yin. Naturally, there was no need for anyone to travel all the way here from the Far North.

"He won't be coming back. Clearly, the Tang Sect's master didn't agree to let us join," Tang Hao said hoarsely. "So your mother won't be coming back either. Cultivate diligently. If you get the chance someday, go to the Far North, find the Tang Sect, and avenge your mother."

Tang San's body stiffened.

It was not as though he had never considered that possibility over the past two months.

In fact, he had begun to suspect it as early as the eleventh day.

Especially because of Elder Tang's words: "We only accept geniuses, not trash."

But every time that voice rose in his heart, he pushed it back down. Twin Martial Souls could not possibly be trash!

That was the foundation of his confidence.

"Dad..." Tang San raised his head, reluctance and stubbornness on his young face. "What if something really delayed him? The Tang Sect is such a large sect. It's normal for something to come up, isn't it...?"

"It's been two months." Tang Hao's voice was very low. "What business takes two months? If a Titled Douluo traveled at full speed, it would only take a few days to get here from the Far North."

Tang San opened his mouth but could not say a word.

The Blacksmith Shop remained quiet for a long time.

From afar came the crowing of roosters in Holy Soul Village, along with a woman calling her child to breakfast. The sounds drifted over the low courtyard wall and into the dim shop, as though they came from another world.

Tang Hao picked up the bowl of cold porridge and gulped it down in one go.

He stood, walked to the doorway, and looked at the sky outside with his back to Tang San.

"Xiao San, you should leave for Nuoding City. If you don't set out now, you won't make it before school starts."

Tang San froze. "Then what about Mom...?"

"I'll make a trip to the Far North." Tang Hao's voice was calm. "Whoever that Tang Laoya is, whoever stands behind him, if he dares toy with me, Tang Hao, the Clear Sky Hammer in my hand is no mere decoration."

Tang San walked to his side and looked up. "Dad, I'll go with you."

Tang Hao looked down at him, reached out, and pressed a hand against his head. "Go to Nuoding City first. You can't delay your cultivation as a Soul Master. If I don't come back..."

Tang San bit his lip without arguing, thinking to himself, Far North Tang Sect, one day, I'll find you!

"Mom..." he murmured into the wind. "If that Tang Laoya refined you into medicine, I'll make the Far North Tang Sect join you in death!"

The wind did not answer.

After breakfast, Tang San began packing. He discovered that, at some point, Tang Hao had already slipped several flatbreads for the journey, obtained from who knew where, and a small pouch of Copper Soul Coins into his cloth bag.

Tang Hao stood at the doorway with his back to him. "Set off, Xiao San."

Tang San slung the cloth bag over his shoulder. "Dad, I'm leaving, then."

Meanwhile.

Heaven Dou City, Martial Soul Temple.

The morning sunlight spilled over the vast complex, gilding the angel relief above its main entrance.

This was the Martial Soul Temple in the capital of the Heaven Dou Empire. It stood in the busiest central district of Heaven Dou City, only a few li from the imperial palace.

Today, a sea of people filled the space before the Martial Soul Temple.

A line with no end in sight wound from the temple's main entrance to an intersection three streets away.

There were all sorts of people in the long line: commoners in coarse cloth, low-ranking Soul Masters, women carrying grocery baskets, and even a few nobles dressed in silk.

Today was the Martial Soul Temple's weekly Angel Prayer Day, when it opened to the public to distribute the introductory volume of the Angel Sacred Guidance Skill.

At the very front of the line, several long tables stood in a row, piled with thick stacks of printed cultivation manuals. Their gold-stamped covers dazzled in the sunlight.

A dozen or so Spirit Hall deacons sat behind the tables, each with an ink pad before them. For every person who came up, they stamped the manual's title page with the red words "Instruction received."

Nearby, dozens of Soul Masters were responsible for maintaining order, preventing anyone from cutting in line or snatching the manuals.

"One copy per person! Stay in line! Don't push!"

The deacon's voice sounded rather feeble amid the noisy crowd.

At the front stood a burly woman in her fifties carrying a bamboo basket. One look was enough to tell she had just charged over from the market.

"Ma'am, each person can only collect one copy!"

"One copy?" The woman's voice was loud enough to be heard ten meters away. "I'm getting one for my husband, one for my son, and one for my daughter-in-law. Oh, right, even our watchdog needs a copy! Can't dogs cultivate too?"

The deacon's mouth twitched. "...Dogs can't practice it."

"How do you know they can't? Have you tried? What if he can? Our Big Yellow is very clever. He follows us and prays to the Angel God's statue!"

The people in line behind her burst into laughter.

Of course, in the end, the woman received only one copy.

The next person in line hurried forward. "Hello, sir. I'm here to collect the cultivation technique. I walked seven days and seven nights from Qingshi Town, three hundred li outside the city, to get here. I heard practicing this technique increases Soul Power. Is that true?"

The deacon wore a smile. "Believe in the Angel and gain eternal life. Practice it, and you'll know."

Over the past two months and more, similar scenes had quietly spread through hundreds of cities across the Heaven Dou Empire and the Star Luo Empire.

The spark had already been lit.

Before long, surely the entire Douluo Continent would see it blaze.

Meanwhile, in a spacious room facing the square on the temple's highest floor, Bishop Salas stood at the window with his hands behind his back, watching the long, winding line below.

After watching for a while, a smile rose at the corner of his mouth.

About two months earlier, Spirit Hall's Worship Hall had sent an order requiring Heaven Dou City's Martial Soul Temple to serve as a pilot site and take the lead in comprehensively promoting the Angel Sacred Art.

Teach it free of charge, regardless of background or talent, and spread it with full effort.

When Salas first received the order, he had puzzled over it for several days. After all, there had never been a precedent for publicly transmitting a cultivation technique on this scale.

But orders were orders.

Even as a Platinum Bishop, he had no room to refuse a directive issued directly by the Worship Hall.

So he had done as instructed, and the whole process had gone far more smoothly than he had expected.

Salas had to admit that this cultivation technique truly had substance. Even ordinary commoners could feel a clear difference after practicing it for three days.

Commoners who had once kept a respectful distance from Spirit Hall began voluntarily entering the Cultivation Transmission Halls it had established in various cities and towns.

Word had already spread that practicing it could make people stronger and cure illnesses. Many older men even promoted it of their own accord, saying that after practicing, their backs no longer ached and their legs no longer hurt, and they could even battle in the alleys for half an hour straight without strain.

"Your Excellency." A knock came from behind him. "The new batch of cultivation manuals has been printed. Should we continue distributing them?"

Salas did not turn around. "Distribute them. Hand out as many as we print."

The deacon outside acknowledged the order and withdrew.

Salas turned and returned to his desk, picked up a freshly printed cultivation manual, and flipped through it. Then he made a prayer gesture. "Saintess Qian Renxue, blessings for all eternity..."