That morning, Yu Xiaohui, as requested by Village Elder Tom, was to deliver some farm tools to the neighboring Holy Soul Village for repair.
Recently, the blacksmith of Holy Soul Village had suddenly left on business, and many villagers' farm tools had broken down due to long-term use and needed repair.
It was said that a new drunken blacksmith had arrived in Holy Soul Village; although he was fond of drinking, his crafting skills were quite good, and he was well-known in several nearby villages.
Ultimately, Village Elder Tom organized Yu Xiaohui and his companions to transport all the village's broken farm tools to Holy Soul Village for repair in a horse-drawn cart.
However, when they returned, a giant hammer fell from the sky, killing several villagers transporting the tools instantly. Yu Xiaohui didn't even have time to activate his martial soul before being crushed to death.
When the village chief came to inform them, his mother, Yang Yulan, collapsed, and Yang Ping'an felt dizzy, unable to believe that his beloved father had suddenly suffered such a devastating blow.
When Yang Yulan and Yang Ping'an arrived at the scene, they were completely stunned.
All that remained at the scene was a large crater containing several indistinctly shaped corpses—more like mangled pieces than bodies.
Though the shape of the bodies was still vaguely discernible, they were essentially reduced to a pulpy mess, with only the coarse linen clothing remaining as a sign of human form.
Yang Yulan trembled uncontrollably, only able to confirm her husband's death by touching the hem of the garment she had sewn herself in the crater.
She gently stroked the hem, the familiar stitches still visible, and then fainted.
Yang Ping'an, supporting his mother, remembered his father's love for him and how his father had personally taught him martial arts; his face contorted with rage, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Village elder Tom immediately reported the incident to the authorities, but after a long investigation, the officials found no useful clues beyond the crater and the corpses, only concluding that it was likely the work of an extremely powerful Soul Master.
With the help of many villagers, Yang Yulan and Yang Ping'an finally buried Yu Xiaohui on the back mountain, with the name Yang Xiaohui on the tombstone.
Others might not know who the murderer was, but Yang Ping'an knew very well that the only person capable of such harm and with a motive was Tang Hao.
Tang Hao had taken his son to hide in Holy Soul Village, disguised as an alcoholic blacksmith, but the Spirit Hall's pursuit of him had not stopped; in fact, it had become even more urgent and severe.
His father, Yu Xiaohui, as a steward of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, had likely seen Tang Hao's face before, and Tang Hao, to conceal his tracks, had resorted to ambush and murder to silence him.
Tang Hao was now a titled Douluo; killing an ordinary Soul Emperor would be incredibly easy for him. Rather than changing locations and hiding, it was better to eliminate him outright. No one would suspect that the murderer was this alcoholic blacksmith.
But he was just a four-year-old child, practically powerless, and hadn't even learned to read properly. How could he possibly fight against Tang Hao, a Title Douluo?
His biggest problem now was how to survive, how to live, and how to awaken his martial soul to avenge himself in the future.
Since his father's accident, his mother, Yang Yulan, had fallen ill. For an ordinary person, hearing this devastating news felt like the sky had fallen.
The doctors they summoned only said that Yang Yulan's excessive worry had damaged her mental and emotional well-being, and she probably didn't have much time left.
Although they consulted various doctors and spent a lot of money, they only managed to prolong her life for three months; his mother, Yang Yulan, seemed to be on her last legs.
That night, lying in her hospital bed, Yang Yulan looked at Yang Ping'an's thin figure, who had been busy for months, and saw that he looked even more haggard.
Yang Yulan was now lifeless, looking at Yang Ping'an with a pained expression. With her last breath, she said, "Ping'an, I'm afraid I won't make it. You must grow up well, live a peaceful life, get married, and have children."
Yang Ping'an's face was also very haggard. "Mom, you will get better. Believe me, I will cure you."
Yang Yulan shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "I know my own body better than anyone else. I'm just worried about how you will live in the future. You're only four years old."
Tears streamed down Yang Ping'an's face, but his expression remained resolute as he spoke, "Mom, don't worry, I will live well. I will avenge Dad."
Yang Yulan's voice grew increasingly hoarse, "Ping'an, I know you've always had your own ideas and ambitions, but don't think about revenge. The enemy is probably stronger than you imagine."
"Don't think so much. Besides the money in the house, there's a small box under the floor tiles at the foot of the bed. The contents inside will ensure your safe growth, but you must never reveal it easily. Exposing wealth easily attracts disaster."
Yang Ping'an's face was serious, "Mom, don't worry, I know what to do. I will do everything I can to survive."
Yang Yulan glanced at her son one last time, seemingly filled with endless worry, before finally closing her eyes.
Yang Ping'an, tears streaming down his face, clenched his fists, his teeth even drawing blood, silently watching his deceased mother.
From this day forward, he had no family left, only hatred.
Over the next few days, under the guidance of Elder Tom, and with the help of some villagers, Yang Ping'an buried his mother, placing her alongside his father.
However, immediately after the funeral, Yang Ping'an invited Elder Tom and several other village elders.
Looking at the young Yang Ping'an, they seemed to feel immense pity and worry about his future.
It must be said that ordinary villagers are generally quite simple and honest, but Yang Ping'an also understood that there are no truly innocent people in this world; self-interest is everything.
Yang Ping'an bowed three times to Elder Tom: "Thank you, Grandpa Tom, for helping with my mother's burial. I have a few things to ask you for help with."
Elder Tom's face was also saddened: "Ping'an, just tell us what's wrong. We've watched you grow up."
Yang Ping'an took out a small bag from his person, placed it on the table, and opened it. Inside were thirteen gold coins, which represented all of Yang Ping'an's apparent wealth.
Yang Ping'an bowed to Old Tom again: "Grandpa Tom, this is all our family's property. I would like to ask you to keep it safe for me. This is what I need for school and living expenses in the future."
Many of the simple villagers looked at the gold soul coins on the table with a hint of greed. For them, this was a considerable fortune. One gold soul coin was enough for a family of three to live on for several months, and these more than ten gold soul coins were a huge fortune for ordinary people.
Old Tom looked a little worried: "Ping'an, what are you doing? Keep it for yourself. How will you live without this money?"
Yang Ping'an shook his head: "Grandpa Tom, I'm too young now. Please keep it for me. If I really need it in the future, I'll ask you for help."
In fact, although Yang Ping'an was young, he had already secretly observed the villagers. Old Tom had been the village chief for so long, so he naturally had a certain prestige in the village, and could even be said to have a certain amount of shrewdness and power.
Rather than having these gold soul coins in his hands and being coveted by others, it was better to hand them all over. As for the future, he could deal with it later.
Besides, he still had some food at home; a grown man like him wouldn't starve.
As for Old Tom, given his reputation in the village, he wouldn't risk his life for a few gold soul coins.
(End of Chapter)