My Name Is Han Yu, Not Tang Hanyu!

(Leave your brains here.)

"Tang Hanyu! Did you give your little brother away to someone as a child bridegroom again?!"

In Holy Soul Village stood a dilapidated earthen house. Above it, a signboard hung on the verge of falling, bearing the words "blacksmith shop."

People walking home after a day of work in the fields jumped at the sudden roar, then gathered together to whisper among themselves.

Just then, a scrawny figure in patched clothes shoved open the blacksmith shop's door and dashed out, shouting over his shoulder as he ran.

"You old geezer, wasn't I doing it for your own good? It's exhausting for a rough old man like you to raise two boys. I found someone to take one off your hands, and they even gave me two Silver Soul Coins. You really don't know what's good for you."

A muscular man strode out of the blacksmith shop, the muscles in his stubbled face twitching. Veins bulged on his thick arms, and the hand gripping his hammer creaked.

"Tang Hanyu!!"

Even the Clear Sky Douluo, whose name had shaken the Douluo Continent, could only force down his anger under the gazes of these ordinary Holy Soul Village residents.

"Come here. I promise I won't hit you."

A warm smile hung on his face, just like a loving father's, but it couldn't hide the eyes that seemed to be on fire.

"Old geezer, I told you my surname isn't Tang."

Han Yu ran behind his lifeline, Old Jack, then poked his head out and grinned cheekily at Tang Hao.

"Oh, you."

Old Jack stroked Han Yu's head with a withered hand and spoke cheerfully.

"Why did you sell Little San again?"

Han Yu was unhappy to hear that and protested.

"Grandpa Jack, how can you call that selling him? This is a big brother's love. Think about it, Grandpa Jack. With the way my old geezer earns money and how fast he spends it, who knows, my brother and I might have to live in poverty like this forever. We won't even have the money to marry wives."

Seeing Old Jack's thoughtful expression, Han Yu continued.

"So, as his big brother, of course I had to look after him. I sent him off early to be a child bridegroom for a wealthy family in Nuoding City. Think how many years of hardship he'll avoid, how many years of taking the long way around. You people have hurt me so much."

At the end, Han Yu heaved a long sigh, straightened his back, and looked up at the sky, as if afraid the tears in his eyes would spill out.

"Brother, what are you doing?"

Just as Han Yu was feeling melancholy, a faint voice came from beside him.

He looked down to see a boy even scrawnier than himself staring weakly at him. His little face was so grimy that his original appearance was impossible to make out, and a large tear gaped across the chest of his patch-covered clothes. His hair was a mess, with several flies buzzing wildly around it.

"A ghost!!"

Han Yu turned pale with fright and kicked the little boy to the ground. He was about to kick him a few more times when Old Jack grabbed hold of him, and Tang Hao's voice followed.

"Little Hanyu!"

"Tang Hanyu!"

Firewood crackled inside the blacksmith shop, and steam rose from a large pot on the stove. Tang San's frail figure stood on a stool, constantly stirring it with a large ladle. The grains of rice inside were clearly visible; there were so few they could even be counted on two hands.

"Tang Hanyu!!"

Tang Hao sat on a stool, pouring wine into his mouth. Anger showed on his haggard face as he looked at Han Yu, who was also sitting on a stool, waiting for his meal.

"Only a mother is truly good, a child with a mother is like a treasure. Nestled in mother's arms, happiness is never far away. Only a mother is truly good, a child without a mother is like a blade of grass."

The desolate, low voice rang through the blacksmith shop. Every word was like a giant hammer striking Tang Hao and Tang San's hearts.

In an instant, both their eyes reddened. Tang Hao's lips trembled, and he couldn't say a word. Even the wine bottle in his hand was shaking.

In the end, he could only sigh helplessly and say in a feeble voice, "You're not allowed to sell Little San again."

Tang Hao had no idea what to do with Han Yu. Of the two children, Han Yu and Tang San, he still hadn't figured out which one was his own flesh and blood. All of it could be blamed on that earth-shaking bolt of lightning that had struck while he was fleeing with Tang San in his arms.

That lightning bolt had not only blocked their pursuers, but also caused him to drop Tang San. When he went to pick him up, he found that Tang San on the ground had somehow become two children.

Newborns all had wrinkled faces. Apart from some differences in size or hair, they were basically identical.

But he had only had time to grab Tang San and flee. When would he have had a chance to examine him closely? Now that there were two children on the ground, he could only grit his teeth and take them both.

He named one Tang Hanyu, the elder. The other he named Tang San, the younger, to commemorate how Third Sister had left him on that cold, rainy night.

Having no other choice, he had raised them both until now, and it was even less possible to tell which one was his child. As for some kind of pull between blood relatives, that was all bullshit. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried.

Still, he felt that Tang Hanyu was more like him as a child: mischievous, troublesome, and capable of every sort of wrongdoing. Tang San, on the other hand, was like a machine that only knew how to obey orders. He did whatever he was told, and sometimes even snuck off somewhere else to meditate. Where had he learned that at such a young age?

The thoughts flashed through Tang Hao's mind. He glanced at Tang San, who was cooking, and a trace of ruthlessness flashed through his gloomy eyes.

"All right, stop singing."

Seeing that Han Yu was going to continue, Tang Hao hurriedly stopped him. A few lines were enough, so why was he singing on and on without end?

Han Yu sighed and looked up at Tang Hao, his eyes just as red, with a few tears even glistening at the corners. It would have been best if one could ignore the hand in his trouser pocket, secretly pinching his thigh as hard as it could.

Just as he was about to say something, Tang San came over carrying chipped bowls. He first handed one to Tang Hao, then one to Han Yu.

The food was here!

Han Yu's starving stomach rumbled. No longer caring what he had wanted to say, he blew on the food as he brought his mouth closer and slowly slurped.

Tang Hao didn't bother with any of that. He tipped the whole bowl of steaming rice soup straight into his mouth, and with a gulp it was in his belly. Then he got up, intending to return to his room to sleep.

"Old geezer, eating food that hot isn't good for your stomach and intestines."

Hearing Han Yu's concerned voice, Tang Hao's lips curved upward. Though his steps didn't slow, he seemed much lighter on his feet.

"If you get sick, we won't have the money to buy you a coffin. When that happens, Little San and I will just roll you up in a bedsheet and toss you by the river. We still need to live in this house."

Get sick, and there'd be no money for a coffin.

Dark lines covered Tang Hao's face. Did getting sick mean he was certain to die? He snorted and ignored him, taking his wine bottle into the inner room to rest.

"Brother, say a little less."

Tang San sat down beside Han Yu with his own food and spoke helplessly.

New author here. This book is mainly a lighthearted, invincible-protagonist story, unless he encounters an exceptionally powerful being early on, such as Di Tian.

Multiple heroines, a goofy growth story.

The protagonist was picked up by Tang Hao, who took him along because he couldn't tell which child was Tang San.

An in-depth reinterpretation of Tang Hao's character.

The protagonist is not a good person. His priority is getting stronger for his own sake, and he doesn't like casually accepting someone as his father.

If it isn't to your taste, please don't flame me.