On a barren mountain outside Holy Soul Village, five-year-old Tang San had just arrived at his familiar cultivation spot. He was about to sit cross-legged and wait to absorb a wisp of purple qi from the horizon at dawn when he unexpectedly found himself staring into a pair of bright eyes.
"Who are you?" Tang San looked at the newcomer and instinctively took a guarded stance. In that instant, many thoughts ran through his mind.
He began to wonder whether this person had long since discovered that he cultivated here and had been secretly learning the Tang Sect Secret Arts he possessed.
The Mysterious Heaven Treasure Record was an absolute secret he had brought with him from his previous life. It recorded the Tang Sect Secret Arts, and no one could be allowed to discover it.
The Mysterious Heaven Skill and Purple Demon Eye were naturally not easy to steal merely by watching, but he also practiced Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track on his way up the mountain, and even here.
Tang Mo looked at Tang San, who had suddenly shown hostility toward him, his face full of question marks. What did I do? Why was Little Scumbag suddenly so hostile toward me?
"Move aside. Don't block me from gathering herbs." Tang Mo shot Tang San a rather disdainful glance, then ignored him and began gathering herbs on the slope.
Seeing this, Tang San instinctively relaxed a little. As long as he was not spying on his cultivation, he had not courted death.
But very soon, Tang San's pupils contracted slightly, as though he had seen something unbelievable.
The techniques Tang Mo used to pick the medicinal herbs were almost identical to his own. More importantly, to the people of this world, these herbs were nothing more than roadside weeds.
Having lived in this other world for five years, he had gained some understanding of its medicinal herbs. Some herbs that had been useful in his previous life were considered nothing but weeds here.
"Who are you? Why are you picking these weeds?" Tang San did not realize that his tone had changed. He was afraid, terrified that the person before him had come from the Tang Sect just as he had.
He wanted to rebuild the Tang Sect, provided that he was its sect master. He wanted to spread hidden weapons, provided that he could monopolize them.
These were all vital resources for his rise in this world, and he would never allow anyone else to lay a finger on them. In that instant, killing intent suddenly stirred within him.
"Weeds?" Tang Mo glanced disdainfully at Tang San. "Don't spout nonsense when you don't know what you're looking at."
Then he continued gathering herbs, ignoring Tang San's increasingly ugly expression.
Having determined that Tang Mo most likely came from the same world as him, and possibly even the same Tang Sect, Tang San silently activated Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track beneath his feet and approached Tang Mo.
Although this barren mountain was only a little over a hundred meters tall, an ordinary person would have no chance of surviving a tumble down it.
Whatever Tang Mo's background, as long as he pushed him down, anyone who came to investigate the scene would only conclude that Tang Mo had accidentally fallen off the cliff. What would that have to do with him? After all, he was only a five-year-old child.
Just as Tang San reached Tang Mo's back and extended his hands to push him down, Tang Mo's figure flickered. Without making the slightest sound of footsteps, he appeared behind Tang San and stuck out a foot to block his feet.
This was Flocculent Steps, a Tang Sect Secret Art from The Outcast. When performed, the user moved like drifting fluff in the wind, their movements uncanny and their footsteps utterly silent.
Tang Mo had begun practicing Flocculent Steps anew. Although he had yet to reach its pinnacle, it was more than enough to leave Tang San completely unable to react.
Tripped by Tang Mo's suddenly extended foot, Tang San stumbled and pitched forward.
Bang!
Seeing that he was about to tumble off the mountaintop, Tang San immediately activated the Mysterious Heaven Skill and used Mysterious Jade Hand, forcibly driving his fingers into the soil. His entire body hung against the slope, only then steadying enough to keep him from rolling down the mountain.
Seeing Tang San sprawled on the slope rather than tumbling down, Tang Mo raised his foot and stamped toward his head.
He had originally had no desire to clash with Tang San, but since Tang San had struck first to harm him, he no longer had any reason to hold back. He intended to kill Tang San outright.
Seeing a shoe sole growing ever larger before his eyes, Tang San drove the Mysterious Heaven Skill to its limit and stamped against the soil, launching himself into the air. As he dodged Tang Mo's incoming foot, he pounced at him like a starving tiger lunging for prey.
"You still dare jump into the air?" Seeing Tang San's choice, Tang Mo could not help sneering. Then he pushed off the ground with both feet, leaped into the air, and kicked toward Tang San's lower abdomen with his feet together.
Still airborne, Tang San had not expected Tang Mo to suddenly launch a flying kick. Only then did he realize that in his previous life, he had devoted himself solely to studying hidden weapons and had little real combat experience-and that leaping into the air during battle was a grave taboo.
In midair, ordinary people had nowhere to gain leverage. Once someone specifically targeted them, they could only sit imprisoned in the air.
Pfft!
The heavy blow struck Tang San's lower abdomen, folding him like a shrimp. After he spat out a mouthful of sour fluid, his face instantly flushed red, making him look even more like a boiled prawn.
Then his body flew backward. The moment he landed, he rolled down the mountain like a tumbling gourd.
Looking at the sharp stones, tree trunks, and gullies along Tang San's path down the mountain, Tang Mo thought he most likely would not survive.
But his instincts as an assassin made him consider delivering a finishing blow. Just as he was about to head down the mountain to finish the job, he suddenly shuddered, as though some unknown ferocious beast had fixed its eyes on him.
Whoosh!
A faint rush of wind brushed past his ear. Then he saw a dark blur sweep past Tang San and carry him away.
His pupils contracted as he realized that the dark blur was Tang San's father, Tang Hao-the renowned Clear Sky Douluo.
He knew he had to get away as quickly as possible. Otherwise, given the Tang family's fine tradition of the elder coming after anyone who beat the younger, Tang Hao would most likely teach him a lesson.
Proud of his status as a Titled Douluo, Tang Hao probably would not kill him, but there would be no shortage of punishment. He might even harbor the intention of letting Tang San get even himself.
With that thought, he moved with Flocculent Steps, quietly clearing away the traces he had left on his way up the mountain and leaving a short stretch of false tracks.
A Titled Douluo's eyesight was certainly sharp, but his camouflage techniques as an assassin were second to none. He was rather curious whether Tang Hao could tell that the tracks he had left were merely a deception. Then he hurried down the mountain with the herbs he had gathered.
Meanwhile, Tang Hao carefully laid Tang San, whom he had been carrying in his arms, on the bed. Looking at the numerous wounds sharp stones had cut into Tang San, anger rose in his heart.
After giving Tang San's wounds a simple dressing, he soared into the air and returned to the barren mountain. He would not kill Tang Mo. After all, this was trouble Tang San had brought upon himself, and he would have to resolve it himself in the future.
But there would be no shortage of punishment. However many wounds Tang San had, he would give Tang Mo a few more.
This was not a sudden outpouring of fatherly affection for Tang San. He simply did not want to disappoint Ah Yin.
By the time he returned to the barren mountain, Tang Mo had vanished without a trace. Even he could detect no signs that anyone had been nearby.
Unwilling to give up, he searched the area and found a stretch of footprints. Instinctively, he followed them.
Before long, as he looked at the footprints that abruptly ended, his weathered face reddened despite himself. He realized that he had been toyed with.
He was the Clear Sky Douluo, once the continent's greatest genius, yet now a child had made a fool of him with ease.
Boom, boom, boom...
In his fury, he gripped the Clear Sky Hammer tightly. Nine soul rings-two yellow, two purple, four black, and one red-rose and fell around him.
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