31: Chapter 31 Tang San in Different Places

The cold power in his mind surged again, suppressing his chaotic thoughts. He panted heavily as the confusion and fear in his eyes gradually faded.

Just then, a child from the inner room walked out carrying a chipped, coarse porcelain bowl filled with warm, clear water, which he gently placed on the table in front of him.

The child was already six years old, wearing coarse cloth clothes that had been washed white and patched several times. His frame was much smaller and thinner than that of children his age, yet he had a pair of exceptionally clear eyes. His features were exactly the same as the Alternative in Spirit Hall, but his eyes lacked that sense of stability and composure wrapped in love; instead, they held a precociousness, forbearance, and caution far beyond his years.

He was the Tang San that Tang Hao had brought with him when they escaped.

The name was chosen casually to make the people of Saint Spirit Village believe he had two older sons, which helped him better conceal his identity.

This was very normal for poor country folk like them; sometimes, children would just be gone after an accident.

Otherwise, they wouldn't have so many children—more children meant more blessings. Not to mention that this was a World where people relied on Spirits; there was always a chance that one child would possess Soul Power after their Spirit Awakening, allowing them to become a great Spirit Master.

Thus, no one suspected Tang San's identity, assuming he had two older brothers who had died, and that he lived alone with his remaining disheveled father.

From the time he was three or four years old, just able to stand steadily and step on a small stool, Tang San had learned to take care of himself and, in turn, take care of this disheveled father who was drunk all day long.

His father was always drinking. When awake, he would either stare blankly at the wall or fixate on him with a complex gaze that frightened him, muttering about revenge and hatred that he couldn't understand. When drunk, he would smash things, curse, and vomit all over the floor, sometimes even sleeping for an entire day without so much as a drop of water to drink.

When hungry, he would stand on a small stool to cook coarse rice porridge for himself. When cold, he would pick up the worn-out clothes his father had thrown on the ground and wrap them around himself. When his father was drunk, he had to clean up the mess on the floor, wipe his father's face, and feed him water. When the blacksmith shop was busy, he had to help pull the bellows and hand over iron blocks, his small hands developing layer upon layer of calluses.

In his six years of life, he had never felt a single day of paternal love. The only one who had ever given him warmth was Grandpa Jack from the village.

"Dad, drink some water. Drinking alcohol all the time hurts your body."

Tang San's voice was soft, carrying the childish innocence of a child, yet there was no hint of acting spoiled, only cautious probing.

Tang Hao lifted his eyelids, and his cloudy eyes swept over him. He didn't speak, just picked up the bowl and drank the water in one gulp, then casually picked up the half-finished jar of wine next to him and took a swig, still maintaining that muddled, self-destructive demeanor.

Tang San silently took back the bowl, turned, picked up the broom, and swept up the ceramic shards and wine stains on the floor bit by bit, his movements so practiced they were heartbreaking, as if he had done it thousands of times.

Just as he finished sweeping, the broken door of the blacksmith shop was pushed open with a "creak." An old man with gray hair leaning on a cane walked in—it was none other than the village chief of Saint Spirit Village, Old Jack.

He was carrying a cloth bag. As soon as he entered, he smelled the choking stench of alcohol and the sweat of someone who hadn't bathed in who knows how long, and seeing Tang San, who had just finished sweeping and had dust on his small face, his expression darkened instantly.

"Little San, come here quickly. Stop working there, be careful the sparks from the furnace don't splash onto you!"

Old Jack hurried over, pulled Tang San behind him, then turned to look at Tang Hao, who was slumped in a chair. He began to scold him sternly, striking the ground hard with his cane.

"Damn you, Tang Dachui! Look at what you've become! All you do every day is drink, drink, drink! The child is only six years old, and since he was three or four, he's been cooking, washing clothes, and cleaning the shop for you. As a father, don't you feel any shame?!"

Tang Hao lifted his eyelids, glanced indifferently at Old Jack, said nothing, and took another swig of wine, completely maintaining his stubborn, unresponsive demeanor.

"You!"

Old Jack was so angry his beard was bristling: "If it weren't for your decent blacksmithing skills, and that you make cheap and durable farm tools for the villagers, I would have chased you out of Saint Spirit Village long ago! Look at yourself, in this village, is there any other father like you? Living in a drunken stupor every day, not even caring for your child! Are you worthy of the child's deceased mother? I shouldn't have taken you in back then!"

At the mention of the word "mother," Tang Hao's movements froze abruptly. A flash of ferocity instantly flickered in his cloudy eyes as he stared fixedly at Old Jack: "My affairs are none of your concern."

"I don't care to manage you! But I cannot watch such a good child as Tang San suffer for the rest of his life following you!"

Old Jack was trembling with anger. He released the hand holding Tang San, opened the cloth bag in his hand, took out two white flour steamed buns and a piece of cooked cured meat, and shoved them into Tang San's hands, saying softly: "Little San, take these. These are steamed buns your Grandma Zhidun just made, and some cured meat. Eat them while they're hot. Don't follow your father and drink that unnutritious coarse rice porridge every day; it's ruining your health."

If it weren't for his aid, he feared whether Tang San would have starved to death because of Tang Dachui.

Tang San took the buns, his small hands gripping them tightly. He looked up at Old Jack, a layer of moisture welling up in his clear eyes, and whispered: "Thank you, Grandpa Jack."

"What are you thanking me for, poor child."

Old Jack patted his head, sighed, glared at Tang Hao once more, and then softened his tone, saying gently to Tang San: "Little San, Grandpa came today because there's something important I need to tell you."

Tang San blinked, looking at him with a puzzled expression: "What is it, Grandpa Jack?"

"In a few days, the Awakening Great Master from Spirit Hall will be coming to our village to conduct the Spirit Awakening for all the children who have turned six!" Old Jack's face revealed a smile, his tone filled with anticipation. "As long as you can awaken a Spirit and are tested to have Innate Soul Power, you can become a Spirit Master! Then you can go to the Spirit Master Academy in Nuoding City, learn skills, broaden your horizons, and one day stand out from the crowd!"

As he spoke, he squeezed Tang San's small hand again, his tone full of heartache and expectation: "Once you become a Spirit Master, you can leave this broken blacksmith shop and get rid of your irresponsible father. You won't have to work like an ox or a horse for him every day or suffer this hardship with him anymore. Grandpa has already signed you up; when the time comes, Grandpa will take you to awaken your Spirit!"

Spirit Master?

Tang San's eyes brightened instantly.

He had heard the adults in the village say that Spirit Master was the most noble profession on this continent. Powerful Spirit Masters could fly through the sky and traverse the earth, possessing immense power. Even the weakest Spirit Master could escape the fate of facing the yellow earth and having their back to the sky for a lifetime.

He had never thought that he would have a chance to become a Spirit Master himself.

But just at this moment, a thought he had secretly hidden for a long time suddenly emerged again.

The adults in the village, when they had nothing to do, would always gather to discuss the major event from six years ago, discussing that traitor of the Human Race, Tang Hao, who was wanted across the entire continent.

They said that Tang Hao had fathered an abominable child with a 100,000-year Spirit Beast, and the child had been born exactly six years ago, which, by calculation, made him the same age as himself.

They also said that the traitor Tang Hao was a member of the Clear Sky Sect, his weapon was a Clear Sky Hammer, and he was a one-armed Titled Douluo.

One-armed... surname Tang... the child from six years ago...