Chapter 47: Healing Tang SanTwo months ago, in the smoldering ruins of what was once the central plaza of Suotuo City, a scene of carnage and despair was slowly being absorbed by the horrified, whispering survivors. The air, thick with the dust of pulverized stone and the coppery tang of blood, was a testament to the cataclysmic rage of a single, powerful being.
Into this maelstrom of his own making, a solitary figure walked. Tang Hao moved through the wreckage, his steps heavy, each one a testament to the profound, soul-crushing grief that had fueled his destructive outburst. The bodies of the innocent, caught in the indiscriminate blast of his fury, were a grim, silent accusation that he did not even register.
His eyes, burning with a sorrowful fire, were fixed on a single point. The central flagpole, miraculously still standing, though bent and scorched. And there, tied to it like a piece of butchered meat, was his son.
He ignored the plaque at the base, its mocking words already seared into his memory. He reached up with a hand that was surprisingly steady and gently untied the ropes that held the broken body of his last hope. Cradling the unconscious Tang San in his arms, he felt the faint, shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was alive. Barely.
Without a word, without a backward glance at the city he had just annihilated, he vanished, a ghost of grief and rage leaving a tomb of silence in his wake.
A few minutes later, at the ravaged gates of Shrek Academy, Dean Flender was surveying the damage from Zhang Tian's explosive trial, his mind a frantic mess of calculations and future expenses. A shadow fell over him. He looked up, and his blood ran cold.
Tang Hao stood before him, his face a mask of stone, his eyes burning with an intensity that promised death. In his arms, he held the ruined, bleeding form of Tang San.
"Heal him," Tang Hao's voice was not a request. It was a command, a low, rumbling thunder that promised catastrophic consequences for failure. "Find the best healing Spirit Masters in this city. Bring them here. Now."
Flender didn't dare to ask what had happened. He didn't dare to hesitate. He just nodded, his face pale with terror. "Y-yes! Right away, Your Excellency!"
He turned and practically flew towards the city, his mind racing through his list of contacts, calling in every favor he had ever accumulated.
Within the hour, two middle-aged men arrived at the academy, their faces etched with a mixture of professional concern and a healthy dose of fear. They were the brothers Lin, renowned in Suotuo City for their healing clinic. The elder, Lin Feng, possessed a 'Life Weaving Staff' tool spirit. The younger, Lin Jie, had a similar 'Soothing Jade Staff'. Both were five-ringed Spirit Kings, their healing abilities respected, if not legendary.
They had been told only that a student of Shrek Academy had been grievously injured and that the client was a reclusive Titled Douluo who valued his privacy above all else. They had not been prepared for the sight that greeted them in Flender's cramped, dusty office.
Tang San lay on a hastily cleared table, his body a canvas of horrific injuries. The two healers drew a sharp, collective breath, their professional composure momentarily shattered.
"Gods above…" Lin Jie whispered, his eyes wide with shock. "What kind of beast could have done this?"
"There is no time for questions," Tang Hao's voice was a cold stone dropped into a silent pool. "Heal him."
The two brothers snapped back to attention. They moved with a practiced, efficient grace.
"The arm bone," Lin Feng said, his voice a low, clinical murmur as he examined the jagged piece of bone still protruding from Tang San's abdomen. "It must be removed first. It's pressing on his internal organs. Brother, prepare your Soothing Jade Light. The moment I pull it out, there will be massive hemorrhaging. You must seal the wound instantly."
Lin Jie nodded, his face grim. His fourth spirit ring, a deep purple, began to glow. A soft, gentle green light, cool and restorative, emanated from his jade-tipped staff.
Lin Feng took a deep, steadying breath. He gripped the bloody, slick bone with both hands. "On three," he said. "One… two… THREE!"
With a sickening, wet squelch, he pulled. The bone came free. A torrent of dark, venous blood erupted from the wound, a gruesome fountain that painted the table crimson.
"Now!"
The green light from Lin Jie's staff intensified, focusing into a concentrated beam that washed over the gaping wound. The bleeding, which had been a flood, slowed to a trickle, and then stopped. The torn flesh and muscle began to knit together with visible speed, the raw, red edges of the wound pulling closed, leaving behind a new, puckered scar.
For the next hour, they worked tirelessly. They set his broken ribs, healed the internal bruising, and cleansed the last of Zhang Tian's poison from his system. But one task remained beyond their capabilities.
Lin Feng held up the severed arm, which had been carefully preserved. He looked at the sealed, smooth stump of Tang San's shoulder. "Your Excellency," he began, his voice hesitant as he addressed the terrifying, silent figure in the corner. "We have stabilized him. He will live. But his arm… reattaching a completely severed limb is beyond our power."
He swallowed nervously. "For such a procedure, you would need a healer of a much higher level, or one with a legendary healing spirit. The Nine Heart Begonia of the Ye Family in Heaven Dou City is said to be capable of such miracles."
Tang Hao just stared at them, his expression unreadable. He gave a single, curt nod. A dismissal.
The two brothers, their task complete, quickly gathered their things. Flender pressed a heavy pouch of gold coins into their hands, a fee far exceeding their usual rates. They accepted it with trembling hands and departed as quickly as their dignity would allow, eager to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the terrifying Titled Douluo.
Tang Hao sat in the quiet, dim office, a silent statue of grief and rage, watching the slow, even rise and fall of his son's chest. He knew the healers were right. The Ye Family was his best hope. But the thought was a bitter, impossible one.
'Go to Heaven Dou City?' he thought, his mind a cold, calculating machine now that the initial storm of his rage had passed. 'To the heart of the empire, where the Spirit Hall's eyes are sharpest? After what I did in Suotuo City… they will be hunting for me. They will have agents everywhere. To reveal myself there, to abduct the patriarch of a major healing clan… it would be suicide. It would be leading them directly to my son.'
He felt trapped, his immense power a useless, impotent thing against the delicate, intricate web of politics and consequence.
It was in this moment of quiet desperation that a soft, hesitant voice broke the silence.
"Uncle… I… I have something to tell you."
He looked up. Xiao Wu stood in the doorway, her small frame trembling slightly, her large, magenta eyes filled with a mixture of fear, determination, and a profound, heartbreaking sadness.
He had been aware of her presence, of all of them, lurking just outside the door. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod to Flender and the others. They took the hint and dispersed, their footsteps receding down the hallway, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet, shadowed room.
Tang Hao's gaze settled on the young girl. His expression was heavy, weary. "Speak," he said, his voice a low rumble.
Xiao Wu took a deep, steadying breath. She walked into the room and closed the door behind her. She did not look at the broken form of Tang San on the table. She looked directly at the Titled Douluo.
"You've been following us, haven't you?" she asked, her voice surprisingly steady. "All this time. From Nuoding Academy." She paused, her gaze unwavering. "That means… you've known what I am from the very beginning."
Tang Hao's expression didn't change, but he gave a slow, single nod. "I have."
His voice was surprisingly gentle, stripped of its earlier rage. "I knew you were a hundred-thousand-year-old spirit beast in human form. I discovered it not long after you and my son became roommates at Nuoding."
He saw the fear in her eyes, the instinctive terror of a prey animal before a predator. "Do not be afraid," he said, his voice softening further. "I have no intention of harming you. A relationship between a human and a spirit beast… it is not something I am opposed to."
He looked at his unconscious son, a flicker of a deep, ancient pain in his eyes. "My son's mother… my wife… she was also a hundred-thousand-year-old spirit beast."
The words were a key, unlocking the last of Xiao Wu's fear. A wave of profound, utter relief washed over her. The greatest secret of her life, the one that had forced her to live in constant fear of discovery, was not a source of danger from this powerful man. It was a source of kinship.
Tears welled in her eyes, tears of relief and shared sorrow. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, her expression hardening with a new, fierce resolve.
"I can help him," she declared, her voice filled with an unshakeable conviction. "I can help reattach his arm."
Tang Hao's head snapped up, his gaze sharp, intense.
"I grew up in the core region of the Star Dou Great Forest," she explained quickly. "Near a place that we spirit beasts call the Lake of Life. The water from that lake has incredible restorative properties. It can heal almost any wound, knit flesh and bone back together. I am certain… I am certain it can reattach my Brother San's arm."
She looked at Tang San's broken body, and her own voice broke with a sob she could no longer contain. "It won't… it won't heal everything that hateful Zhang Tian did to him. But his arm… we can save his arm. And the water will heal the damage to his internal organs."
Tang Hao understood her unspoken meaning. The lake could heal flesh and bone, but it could not regenerate what was no longer there. His son's ability to have a future, to have a family of his own… that had been stolen.
A fresh wave of cold, murderous rage washed over him, but he suppressed it with an iron will. Xiao Wu was right. The immediate priority was healing what they could. The matter of his son's manhood… that was a problem for another day. He would find a way. He had to.
He stood up, his massive frame seeming to fill the entire room. He walked over to the table and, with a gentleness that was at odds with his immense power, he lifted the unconscious form of his son into his arms.
He then looked at Xiao Wu. "You will guide me," he said.
He reached out his free hand, and before she could react, he had scooped her up as well, holding her securely against his side. "Hold on," he rumbled.
With a final, silent nod, he stepped through the wall of the office as if it were made of smoke and shot into the sky, a dark, sorrowful meteor streaking south, towards the ancient, beating heart of the Star Dou Great Forest.
Three days later, they arrived. The air in the core region was different. It was thick, heavy, saturated with a life force so potent it was almost a physical presence. The trees were colossal, ancient beings that seemed to scrape the very heavens, and the silence was a deep, watchful thing, broken only by the distant roars of creatures whose power defied imagination.
Xiao Wu led him to the edge of a vast, tranquil lake. The water was a clear, shimmering emerald green, and a soft, ethereal mist rose from its surface, carrying with it a scent of pure, unadulterated life. This was the Lake of Life.
Two colossal figures rose from the depths to meet them. One was a massive ape, its fur as black as night, its yellow eyes burning with an ancient intelligence. The other was a serpentine creature of impossible scale, its body the color of the sky, its head that of a mythical bull. Er Ming. Da Ming.
'Elder Sister Xiao Wu!' Er Ming's mentally projective voice was a deep sound, filled with concern. 'You have returned! But who is this human? And the other… he is badly injured.'
Da Ming's gaze was more suspicious. He stared at Tang Hao, his massive head held high, his aura a palpable pressure. "You have brought a powerful human to our sanctuary, Elder Sister. Why?"
Xiao Wu quickly explained the situation, her voice filled with a pleading urgency. She told them of her Brother San's injuries, of the promise held by the waters of the lake.
The two great beasts were hesitant. Their love for their sworn sister was absolute, but their distrust of humans, especially one as powerful and sorrowful as the one before them, was deep-seated.
"Please," Xiao Wu begged, tears streaming down her face. "I love him. He is my life. I cannot let him remain like this."
Her plea, so raw and filled with genuine love, was the deciding factor. Da Ming and Er Ming exchanged a long, silent look. Finally, Da Ming gave a slow, reluctant nod. "Very well, elder sister. For you."
Xiao Wu wasted no time. She scooped the cool, life-infused water of the lake into her hands. Tang Hao carefully laid his son down at the water's edge.
The next step was the most brutal. With a sharp, obsidian shard, Xiao Wu carefully, methodically, scraped away the newly healed flesh at the stump of Tang San's shoulder, re-opening the wound.
Tang San's unconscious body twitched, a low moan of pain escaping his lips.
With the wound open and bleeding afresh, she took his severed arm and pressed it firmly against the stump. Then, she began to pour the water from the Lake of Life over the join.
What happened next was a miracle.
The moment the emerald water touched the wound, it began to glow with a soft, vibrant green light. The bleeding stopped instantly. The torn edges of flesh began to move, to writhe, reaching for each other like lovers long separated.
Tendons reconnected. Muscles wove themselves back together. And slowly, impossibly, the severed bone began to fuse, a faint, white line of new growth sealing the break.
They continued to pour the water over him, washing his entire body in its healing essence. The scar on his stomach faded, the internal damage mending under the gentle, persistent power of pure life.
After an hour, the process was complete. Tang San's arm was reattached, the skin smooth and whole, leaving behind only a faint, silvery scar. He was still unconscious, his body still weak from the trauma, but he was whole again. Mostly.
Tang Hao looked down at his son, then at the tearful, exhausted girl who had saved him. A flicker of something akin to warmth, a feeling he had not experienced in many, many years, touched his broken heart. "Thank you," he rumbled, the two words carrying the weight of a lifetime of pain.
Chapter 48: Tang San's RageThe journey back from the heart of the Star Dou Great Forest was a silent, grim procession. Tang Hao, his face a mask of stone carved from sorrow and rage, carried the unconscious forms of his son and Xiao Wu with an effortless, heartbreaking gentleness. The oppressive weight of his Titled Douluo's aura was a suffocating blanket, silencing the very forest around them.
He arrived at Shrek Academy like a ghost, a specter of vengeance returning to a haunted house. Flender and Yu Xiaogang met him at the ruined gates, their faces pale, their usual bravado completely gone in the face of this walking cataclysm.
"He is healed," Tang Hao's voice was a low, rumbling thunder that promised storms yet to come. "His arm is reattached. Watch over him. See that he becomes stronger."
He did not wait for a reply. He did not offer any further explanation. He placed his son's limp body into the waiting arms of a stunned Flender and then set a still-exhausted Xiao Wu gently on her feet.
"Take care of him," he said to her, his voice softer now, a rare flicker of something akin to paternal warmth in his burning eyes. With a final, lingering look at the pale face of his only child, he turned.
'I will draw their eyes away,' he thought, his mind a cold, calculating machine now that the initial, blinding rage had passed. 'The Spirit Hall will be hunting for the one who destroyed Suotuo City. I will give them a ghost to chase. I will become the storm in the east, so that my son may have peace in the west. When he is ready, when he is strong enough… I will return.'
With that silent vow, he vanished, melting into the shadows as if he had never been there at all.
The news of their return spread through the small, fractured student body like wildfire. Dai Mubai, Ma Hongjun, and Oscar, their faces a mixture of relief and trepidation, hurried to the infirmary where Tang San had been laid to rest.
"Xiao Wu!" Oscar exclaimed, his usual flirtatious demeanor replaced by genuine concern. "Are you alright? Is Xiao San… is he going to be okay?"
Xiao Wu, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, just nodded silently. The ordeal had drained her, but her spirit was unbroken.
Dai Mubai's gaze, however, was scanning the empty grounds. "Where did he go?" he asked, his voice a low whisper. "Tang San's father… that Titled Douluo. Where did he go?"
Flender, who had just finished ensuring Tang San was comfortable, stepped out, his face etched with a deep weariness. "His Excellency has departed for a place far away from here. And on that matter," he said, his sharp gaze fixing on each of them in turn, "a word of warning."
He lowered his voice, his tone turning deadly serious. "What you saw in the woods, the identity of His Excellency… you will forget it. You will not speak of it to anyone. You will not even think it. Do you understand me, Mubai? Hongjun? Oscar? The name 'Clear Sky Douluo' is a taboo that could bring annihilation down upon us all if spoken in the wrong company. His Excellency's connection to Xiao San is a secret you will take to your graves."
The three boys felt a chill run down their spines. They nodded quickly, their faces pale with a new, profound understanding of the stakes. This was a secret that could get them killed.
"Dean Flender is right," Yu Xiaogang added, stepping out from the infirmary. "The matter of His Excellency's identity and his plans for Xiao San will be explained when Xiao San is ready. I will be the one to inform him."
His gaze was cold, authoritative, leaving no room for argument. The students nodded again, their earlier questions silenced by the sheer weight of the secrets they now carried.
Two days passed in a tense, watchful quiet. Tang San remained lost in the deep, healing sleep of recovery. On the morning of the third day, his eyes fluttered open.
The first thing he registered was the familiar, musty smell of the Shrek Academy infirmary. His mind was a foggy, confusing haze. 'What… what happened? The fight… Zhang Tian…'
He tried to sit up, a groan escaping his lips. A sharp, phantom pain shot through his right arm. He looked down, expecting to see a mangled stump. But his arm was there, whole and connected to his shoulder.
A wave of profound relief washed over him. 'It was a nightmare,' he thought, a weak, shaky laugh escaping his lips. 'Just a terrible, horrible nightmare. My arm is fine. Everything is fine.'
He flexed his fingers. They moved. Stiffly, painfully, but they moved. He let out another sigh of relief. Then, his fingers, tracing the line of his shoulder, brushed against something that wasn't supposed to be there.
A scar. A thin, silvery line that circled his entire shoulder joint.
He froze. His blood ran cold. He ripped the collar of his infirmary gown aside and stared. The scar was real. It was the undeniable proof of a limb that had been severed and then… reattached.
'No…' his mind screamed. 'It wasn't a nightmare. It was real. He really… he really did it.'
The memories came flooding back, a tidal wave of agony and humiliation. The sickening crack of his bone, the feeling of it being driven into his stomach, the final, violating blow that had stolen his manhood.
A strangled sob escaped his lips. His hand, with a desperate, trembling terror, moved down, fumbling with the waistband of his loose trousers. His fingers slipped inside.
He felt… nothing.
The place where his testicles should have been was an empty, scarred void.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The air was sucked from his lungs. A single, silent tear traced a path down his cheek, followed by another, and another, until he was shaking with a silent, all-consuming despair.
He was no longer a man. His dream of rebuilding the Tang Sect, of passing on its legacy to his own children… it was all gone. Shattered.
A new emotion, hot and black and venomous, began to bubble up from the depths of his despair, consuming the grief, replacing it with something else. Hatred. A pure, undiluted hatred that was so intense it was a physical thing, a burning fire in his gut.
'Zhang Tian,' the name was a curse on his tongue. 'You will pay for this. I will make you suffer a thousand times worse than what you did to me. I will flay you alive. I will take your women and defile them in front of you. I will destroy everything you hold dear.'
Ironically, even if he wanted to defile Zhang Tian's women, he didn't have the capability for it…
He sat up, his movements stiff, his body screaming in protest. He felt weak, his muscles atrophied, his bones aching. He felt a gnawing, desperate hunger, a sign that his body had been starved for days, fighting to heal itself.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had to get out. He had to see. He took a single, wobbly step and then his legs gave out, sending him crumpling to the floor in a heap.
With a growl of pure frustration, he began to crawl, dragging his weak, pathetic body towards the door. He pushed it open and stumbled out into the weak morning sunlight. He saw the familiar, shabby buildings of the academy, the distant, half-finished framework of the new facilities.
He began to walk, his feet dragging, his body a trembling wreck, but his will was a rod of unbreakable iron. He had to find them. He had to find his friends, his teacher.
He stumbled onto the main training field. And he saw them.
Dai Mubai, Oscar, Ma Hongjun, and his precious Xiao Wu were in the middle of a grueling training session. They were running, their bodies shining with sweat, while the massive, imposing figure of Zhao Wuji stood nearby, barking orders. His teacher, the Grandmaster, stood at the side, his arms crossed, observing with a critical, analytical eye.
They saw him. The training stopped instantly.
"Third Brother!" Xiao Wu cried out, her face a mixture of shock and overwhelming relief. She sprinted towards him, throwing her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she began to sob.
"Xiao San!"
"Third Brother, you're awake!"
The others rushed over, their faces filled with a genuine, heartfelt concern that momentarily soothed the burning hatred in his soul.
"Don't move about, Xiao San," Yu Xiaogang said, his voice holding a rare note of paternal warmth as he placed a steadying hand on his disciple's shoulder. "Your body is still weak."
He turned to the portly boy. "Hongjun, go to the kitchens. Bring back a large portion of high-energy spirit beast meat stew. And some bread. And water."
Ma Hongjun, for once, didn't complain. He just nodded and waddled off as fast as his short legs could carry him.
They helped Tang San to a nearby bench, and as he sat, surrounded by his friends, his teacher began to speak. The story unfolded, a carefully curated narrative of heroism, betrayal, and sacrifice.
Yu Xiaogang told him of his father's dramatic appearance, the legendary Clear Sky Douluo, a revelation that sent a jolt of pure shock through Tang San. His father, the drunken, listless blacksmith, was a Titled Douluo?
He told him of how the malicious Zhang Tian, showing no respect for the hierarchy of power, had shamelessly used the unconscious Tang San as a hostage to threaten his father.
"That vile boy has no honor, no shred of decency," Yu Xiaogang said, his voice laced with a cold, righteous anger. "He fled like a coward with his two accomplices and the protection of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, but not before leaving your desecrated body in the central plaza of Suotuo City for all the world to see, a final, disgusting act of humiliation."
Tang San's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. The image of himself, broken and displayed like a piece of meat, sent a fresh wave of black fury through him.
"But your father, Xiao San," Yu Xiaogang continued, his tone shifting to one of profound respect, "his righteous anger was so great that he… inadvertently leveled a portion of the city before he could retrieve you. He then took you and Xiao Wu to a mysterious place, where, with Xiao Wu's help, he found a mystical place that could heal your severed arm."
He explained how Xiao Wu's love and knowledge had been the key to his recovery, a detail that made Tang San look at the girl still clinging to his arm with a new depth of love and gratitude.
"And now," the Grandmaster concluded, "your father has gone. He has deliberately revealed his presence in other cities, drawing the full attention of the Spirit Hall upon himself, creating a massive diversion so that they don't trouble you while investigating the culprit who destroyed a portion of Suotuo City. All to ensure that you, his only son, would be safe to grow and cultivate in peace. He will return for you when you are ready to receive his true training."
Tang San was speechless, his mind reeling from the revelations. His father was a hero. A tragic, powerful hero who had sacrificed everything for him. And Zhang Tian… Zhang Tian was the devil incarnate. A malicious, cowardly villain who had not only injured him, but had humiliated his noble father.
The hatred in his heart solidified, crystallizing into a cold, hard diamond of absolute resolve.
'Zhang Tian,' he vowed silently, his eyes burning with an unholy light. 'You have found your way to death. You and your women, Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing, who stood by and watched as you committed your atrocities… you have all sealed your fates. I will hunt you down. I will make you regret the day you were born.'
He looked at his teacher, his expression grim. "Teacher," he said, his voice hoarse but firm. "My training. We must continue. I must get stronger."
Yu Xiaogang nodded, a flicker of pride in his eyes. "We will, Xiao San. We will. First, you must recover your strength. You were unconscious for nearly a little less than a week including the time it took for your father to find the mystical healing place to heal you and then return so it's natural that your body has suffered greatly. Fortunately, you are a Spirit Master so you can recover your vitality after eating meals properly."
He paused, a look of grim frustration on his face. "Unfortunately, our original plan to begin your arena training has been… complicated. The Great Spirit Arena of Suotuo City was one of the buildings destroyed in your father's… outburst. It will take years to rebuild."
He looked at his disciple, his expression hardening with resolve. "It does not matter. You will spend the next two weeks here, rebuilding your physical foundation. Eat, rest, and follow a light training regimen. After that, we will travel to another major city, perhaps Silves City or even further. And there, you will begin your true trial by fire. You will fight. One-on-one, and as a team. You will forge yourself in the crucible of combat until you are unbreakable."
Tang San nodded, a cold, predatory smile touching his lips for the first time. The pain was still there, a constant, dull ache in his body and a gaping, screaming wound in his soul. But now, it had a purpose. It was the fuel for his vengeance. He would recover. He would grow stronger. And he would have his revenge.