Time passed quickly. In the blink of an eye, Qian Jue had already lived in Holy Spirit Village for more than two months.
During this time, his top priority had, of course, been raising Tang San's favorability.
Every day he went to find Tang San, often bringing food along. He had also met Tang Hao, but the man was gruff and unapproachable. Still, after seeing Qian Jue frequently bring meals, and noticing how Tang San—who had been slightly malnourished—looked much healthier after two months, Tang Hao stopped showing him such a cold face.
As for the rest of his time, Qian Jue first familiarized himself with the local script, then spent each day training his body, pondering what advantages he had that could help him live better in this world.
The answer was obvious: aside from his knowledge of the future, he was completely useless. With no other way, he could only cling even tighter to Tang San's thigh and wait for the Martial Spirit Awakening Ceremony to arrive.
---
"Tang San! Tang San, what are you doing?"
Qian Jue arrived at Tang San's home but didn't see him. Instead, the clanging of hammer on metal came from the workshop. When he called out, the noise immediately stopped, and after a moment Tang San emerged.
Seeing the box of pastries in Qian Jue's hand, Tang San sighed. "You brought me food again?"
But Qian Jue's eyes lit up when he noticed the sound had come from Tang San. He eagerly handed over the pastries. "Were you… forging?"
Tang San waved him inside, set the pastries aside, then picked up the hammer and resumed pounding a thick iron block.
"This is called forging, not just hammering. I want my dad to pass his craft to me. If my Martial Spirit turns out to be useless, at least I'll have a livelihood."
Qian Jue rolled his eyes. What nonsense—Tang San would awaken not one, but two top-tier Martial Spirits. And with the Tang Sect knowledge in his head, even without soul power, he could revolutionize this world.
But now that Tang San had started forging, Qian Jue's heart raced. He remembered from the original story—after striking this iron block ten thousand times, just a few days later Old Jack would arrive to call Tang San to the awakening ceremony.
'Finally, it's coming!'
"What are you going to make from this iron?" Qian Jue asked excitedly.
Tang San glanced at him, puzzled by his enthusiasm. "My dad said if I hammer it ten thousand times, he'll pass his craft to me."
'Just as expected.'
"Then hurry up! I'll cheer you on. I hope you finish soon!" Qian Jue plopped down nearby, looking ready to spend the day watching.
Tang San shot him a helpless look, then ignored him and focused on his work.
He had already grown used to Qian Jue. Unlike the other village children, Qian Jue never pestered him to play games. He simply wanted to be around, quietly keeping him company, whether in silence or just watching.
'Good thing I grew up in the Tang Sect,' Tang San thought wryly. 'Otherwise, I might suspect he was trying to form some… strange relationship with me.'
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The hammer struck in a steady rhythm. Tang San's eyes stayed sharp, controlling each strike precisely. Meanwhile, Qian Jue stared blankly, lost in daydreams—imagining himself awakening a godlike Martial Spirit, rising step by step to divinity, easily crushing foes like Qian Daoliu, Qian Renxue, or even Bibi Dong.
"Hey, Qian Jue—wake up!"
Tang San shook him back to reality.
"Huh? What is it?" Qian Jue blinked in confusion.
"It's almost dark. You should head home, or Uncle Deng will come looking for you."
"Oh, right. Okay, I'll go. See you tomorrow!"
He looked at the setting sun, waved, and started off.
"You're coming again tomorrow? I'll just be forging all day. Won't you get bored?" Tang San called after him.
"Hmm… maybe, but I don't have anything else to do. We'll see tomorrow. Bye!"
Qian Jue waved and walked off.
On the way home, he muttered to himself, "Wow, I really spent the whole day lost in fantasy. Too bad it's not that easy to become a god. Just look at Tang San in the original story—how much suffering he endured, how many trials he passed, before finally becoming the Sea God…"
He sighed. "I wonder if I can manage it. Forget it. Better leave it to fate. I'll see what Martial Spirit I awaken first, then make plans."
Yawning, he quickened his pace home.
---
Over ten days later, at Tang San's house—
"Tang Hao, are you busy?" A frail, elderly voice called from outside.
Tang San's eyes brightened. Qian Jue had already told him yesterday that the awakening ceremony was near. Now that Village Chief Jack had come, it could only be about that.
He rushed to the door and bowed politely. "Grandpa Jack, hello! What brings you here?"
Before Old Jack could answer, Tang Hao came out, hammer still in hand.
"What is it, Village Chief?" His tone was as cold as ever, distant and dismissive.
But Old Jack was long used to it. He ignored the chill and said, "Xiao San is nearly six. He should participate in this year's awakening ceremony. It will be held in three days."
Tang Hao looked at Tang San, expression still cold. "Got it."
He turned and went back to forging farm tools.
Old Jack didn't press him. Instead, he looked at Tang San's calm but excited face and chuckled. "Seems you already know what the awakening ceremony is."
Tang San nodded. "Yes. After the ceremony, we awaken our Martial Spirit and can begin training as soul masters."
Hearing this, Tang Hao's hammer paused for a fraction of a second before resuming its steady rhythm.
"Correct. Work hard, Xiao San. Our Holy Spirit Village once produced a Spirit Saint, which is why we bear this name. I hope one day you can go further—become a Spirit Douluo. Then our village might be renamed Douluo Village, and we'd all be proud of you."
But Tang Hao could not bear it anymore. He set down his hammer with a clang.
"Old Jack, that was only a legend. And I don't want Xiao San to become a Spirit master. Being a blacksmith like me is fine."
Old Jack exploded. "A legend is born from truth! That was our village's glory, not to be insulted! Say one more word like that and I'll expel you from this village! And if Xiao San has the talent to cultivate, why shouldn't he? Do you want him to end up like you?"
He jabbed a finger at Tang Hao's messy hair and pale, weary face.
"And Xiao San—if not for Qian Jue bringing food these past months, how would his body have grown? How could you be so heartless? You may not care for yourself, but he's still a child! I don't know where his mother went or why she isn't here, but if she saw you treating him like this, she would fight you to the death!"
"You—three days from now, I'll come to fetch Xiao San. You'd better reflect!"
Seeing Tang Hao bow his head, Old Jack stopped short of more scolding. He left with a huff.
As soon as he was gone, Tang San rushed to his father. "Dad, don't be sad. I've never blamed you."
Tang Hao shook his head, retreating indoors.
"Do your own work. Don't disturb me."
Tang San halted at the doorway, sighing softly. No matter what, Tang Hao was still his father. Though he rarely felt fatherly warmth, he still longed for the day he might.
Inside, Tang Hao sat cradling a long black box—one and a half meters long, a foot wide, heavy in appearance. He caressed it gently, tears streaming down his face.
"Ah Yin… was I wrong?"
He had always harbored resentment toward Tang San. If not for his wife's pregnancy, the two of them could have escaped Spirit Hall's pursuit together. With his strength and hers, they could have fled unharmed.
And so, for years, he had neglected Tang San, letting him grow up hungry and suffering. Even after Tang San began cooking and caring for him, that thorn remained.
But today, Old Jack's words shook him.
Yes… this was the child Ah Yin had given her life to protect. Her final wish was for him to take care of Tang San. And yet, all these years, he had squandered that gift.
"Xiao San… it's your father who has wronged you. Just wait. After the ceremony in three days—if you inherit our Clear Sky Sect's Martial Spirit, I will raise you into one of the strongest spirit masters in the world. If not… then we'll live quietly here in Holy Spirit Village for the rest of our lives."
Caressing the box, Tang Hao silently made his decision.