After practicing his swings, Tang Hao used tongs to take a red-hot iron ingot from the furnace and placed it on the anvil.
"Watch."
He hefted the forging hammer and brought it down.
The iron ingot rang sharply, sparks flew, and its shape flattened slightly.
Tang Hao's hammer blows looked casual, but each one landed with pinpoint accuracy.
As Tang Hao hammered, he said, "This is a very simple hammer technique. Its core is borrowing force."
"With every strike, the force acts both ways."
"When the hammer strikes the iron, the iron strikes the hammer too. What you need to do is borrow that opposing force and turn it into the source of power for your next strike."
"One strike after another, each wave higher than the last, until finally..."
"It becomes unstoppable."
Tang Wulin's blood boiled as he watched.
In his previous life, he had come across an explanation of the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer on Douyin and knew it was a foundational secret art of the Clear Sky Sect. But the animation in the video was worlds apart from seeing it with his own eyes.
That continuous rhythm, each wave rising higher than the last, could only be appreciated by seeing it in person.
"You give it a try." Tang Hao stepped aside.
Tang Wulin walked up to the anvil, took a deep breath, and gripped the Clear Sky Hammer tightly with both hands.
He recalled Tang Hao's movements. Power came from his waist and hips, driving his shoulders, which drove his arms, which drove his wrists. Then he brought the hammer down.
Clang!
The hammer struck the iron ingot off-center, and sparks splattered across his face.
The iron ingot barely changed shape.
Tang Hao snorted beside him. "Too little strength, too little accuracy. Again."
Tang Wulin gritted his teeth and swung again.
Clang!
"Again."
Clang!
"Again."
Blow after blow, Tang Wulin's arms grew increasingly sore, the webbing between his thumbs and forefingers went numb from the impacts, and his forehead was covered in sweat.
But he didn't stop. When he had read the original story in his previous life, the thing he had admired most about Tang Wulin was his refusal to admit defeat.
Now that he had become Tang Wulin himself, that same spirit seemed to be etched into his bones.
He didn't know how many blows he had struck before the iron ingot finally changed shape, if only barely.
Tang Wulin was panting with exhaustion, his hands trembling so badly he could barely hold the Clear Sky Hammer.
Tang Hao walked over and glanced at the hammer marks on the iron ingot, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Not bad. You're starting to get the hang of it. That's enough for today."
He took a blackened loaf of bread and a jug of water from a nearby shelf and tossed them to Tang Wulin.
"Eat."
Tang Wulin caught the bread and wolfed it down.
The bread was hard and dry, but he was so hungry his stomach was pressed against his backbone. Anything tasted good right now.
Tang Hao sat to one side and took a couple of swigs from a wine gourd, his gaze falling on Tang Wulin. There was no telling what he was thinking.
After finishing the bread, Tang Wulin wanted to keep practicing, but Tang Hao waved a hand.
"What's the rush? Forging isn't something you learn in a day or two. Come back tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Tang Wulin was taken aback. "I can come here again tomorrow?"
Tang Hao didn't answer, merely waving his hand.
Tang Wulin suddenly felt his eyelids grow heavy. The forge before him began to blur, and Tang Hao's figure grew more and more distant.
"Hah-"
Tang Wulin sat bolt upright, gasping for breath.
A familiar room met his eyes.
A single bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and dim yellow light filtering through the curtains.
Half his blanket had fallen to the floor, and his forehead was covered in sweat.
The sky had already darkened.
"It's evening?" Tang Wulin looked out the window. The last rays of the setting sun had dyed the sky orange-red. "I slept that long?"
He sat on the bed in a daze for quite a while, his mind in a muddle.
He had met Tang Hao in a dream? Tang Hao had taught him forging? Taught him the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer?
Wasn't Tang Hao a character from the first Douluo Continent?
He had become a god ages ago, so how could he have appeared in my dream?
And that dream had been too real.
Every detail had been too clear to be a dream.
He really had mastered some blacksmithing skills, as if they had been etched into his memory.
"Could it have been more than a dream?"
"Whatever." Tang Wulin got out of bed. "It's not a bad thing, anyway."
"Will I see him again tomorrow?"
He pushed open the door and walked out. Lang Yue was busy in the kitchen and turned at the sound.
"You're awake? You slept all afternoon. You must be hungry, right? Dinner will be ready soon."
"Mom." Tang Wulin leaned against the kitchen doorframe. "When are we going to the Spirit Pagoda?"
Lang Yue paused what she was doing and looked back at him, her eyes full of smiles. "What's the rush? Your dad has a day off in a couple of days, so we'll all go together. We'll pick out a good Soul Spirit for you."
Early the next morning, Lang Yue hauled Tang Wulin out of bed.
"It's your first day of school. Don't be late."
"Study hard at the academy."
Tang Wulin rubbed his eyes as he got dressed, hurriedly shoveled down a few bites of breakfast, and left.
The academy had regular classes and Soul Master classes. The regular classes taught basic academic subjects, while the Soul Master classes provided professional cultivation guidance for children who had awakened Martial Souls.
There were only fifteen children in the Soul Master class.
Here, Tang Wulin formally began learning the theory behind Martial Souls, while his teacher began guiding him in cultivating Soul Power through meditation.
Tang Wulin had the best aptitude, so his teacher took particular care in teaching him.
"Tang Wulin." Lin Ximeng crouched down.
"You've learned the basics of meditation. Keep practicing every day when you go home, for at least an hour each time. Once you obtain a Soul Ring, your Soul Power will go through a period of rapid growth."
Tang Wulin nodded. "Thank you, teacher."
After the day's classes ended, Tang Wulin headed home with his schoolbag on his back.
He passed through an alley and turned onto a relatively secluded street, then suddenly stopped.
Across the street, a little girl was cornered against a wall by three youths of fifteen or sixteen.
The girl looked about Tang Wulin's age and had silver-white hair.
Tang Wulin and the silver-haired girl's eyes met, as if they were drawing each other in.
"Hey, little sister, all alone?" The youth in the lead sidled up to her with a grin.
"Is your hair dyed, or is it natural? Looks pretty nice. Want to come have some fun with us big brothers?"
"Come on, just keep us company."
"What are you doing?"
All three youths turned around at once. The one in the lead looked Tang Wulin up and down and, seeing that he was just a six- or seven-year-old kid, sneered. He pulled a dagger from his pocket and twirled it in his hand.
"If you don't want to die, get lost."
Tang Wulin gave a cold snort.
"What kind of skill is it to bully the weak?" He took a step forward, his right hand clenching slightly.
"Let that girl go. If you've got what it takes, come at me."
"Huh?" The youth in the lead was amused and charged over with his dagger.
"You little brat, you're asking for death!"
He ran at a decent speed, stabbing the dagger straight toward Tang Wulin's shoulder.
At fifteen or sixteen, he was used to street fights and had no sense of restraint.
Tang Wulin turned his right hand over, and the Clear Sky Hammer emerged from his palm. It instantly grew to its normal size, pitch-black from end to end, with a heavy hammerhead covered in dark-gold patterns.
Its weight of several dozen jin felt heavy in his hand, steadying his whole body.
He raised the hammer and swung.