Year '37, Year '38, Year '39 — in just three years, he had already become a Great Soul Master? A Great Soul Master above level twenty? He didn't look older than fifteen, and the current year was 2643, which meant he had broken through level twenty four years ago.
At that,
"Uncle Tie, have you finished looking?"
Tie Xin silently handed the Soul Master handbook back to Tang San. He had already memorized the registration number on it and could verify it at any time.
"Great Soul Master Tang San, I owe you an apology for my earlier presumption," Tie Xin said solemnly.
Tang San shook his head with a smile. "It's nothing. It's not easy running a business. If I were in your position, I might be even more cautious. After all, I am rather young."
Tie Xin couldn't help but ask, "Can you tell me — how old are you this year?"
Tang San didn't hide it. "I'll be thirteen in a few months."
Tie Xin drew in a sharp breath. Not yet thirteen — meaning he was only twelve. And four years ago, when he was just eight years old, he had already become a Great Soul Master? Was this real? Could this possibly be real?
"Great Soul Master Tang San, I have one final request. Could I see your Soul Rings?" A twelve-year-old Great Soul Master was, to Tie Xin, an absolutely incomprehensible existence. After all, even Shrek's monsters numbered only seven — this was not something ordinary people could fathom.
The moment the words left his mouth, Tie Xin felt he was being somewhat excessive, perhaps too suspicious. A hint of embarrassment flickered across his face.
Tang San, however, didn't mind. What he needed was a long-term, reliable blacksmith shop to work with, and winning the other party's trust was clearly of utmost importance. Tie Xin's words and mannerisms projected a sense of steadiness, and the scale of this blacksmith shop fully satisfied him as well.
"All right." Tang San slowly raised his left hand, and a blue glow quietly surged forth.
Tie Xin focused intently on Tang San, waiting for the Soul Rings that would appear alongside the Martial Soul.
After all, a Soul Master handbook could be forged, but Soul Rings could never be faked — they were the true mark of a Soul Master's rank.
Blue Silver Grass, shimmering with a luminous blue-violet hue, swarmed forth from Tang San's palm. It spread instantly, cascading to the ground before rapidly covering the floor of the room. At the same time, three gorgeous Soul Rings rose simultaneously from beneath his feet — two yellow, one purple — the three rings pulsing rhythmically around his body in a clear, ordered cadence.
In that instant, the air seemed to freeze. Everything in the room took on an almost surreal quality.
Tie Xin's jaw dropped open, his eyes locked fixedly on the Soul Rings around Tang San's body. His hands trembled involuntarily.
"You... you..."
Tang San said, "I just obtained my third Soul Ring and haven't had a chance to register at Spirit Hall yet, so there's no record in the handbook of my advancement to Soul Venerable."
Three — were those really three? Tie Xin's heart was trembling. Twelve years old. Soul Venerable. Over level thirty. Blue Silver Grass. These words spun ceaselessly through Tie Xin's mind. His brain had gone completely blank, and an indescribable feeling filled his chest.
From Tang San, Tie Xin felt pressure — the particular pressure that a high-level Soul Master exuded toward a lower-level one.
"Are you really only twelve years old?" Tie Xin asked with some difficulty.
Just then, the door suddenly opened, and a tall figure stepped in from outside.
"Dad, I heard from the boys up front that we got a big order? Ah, this is—"
The tall figure froze abruptly. Under the pressure of the Blue Silver Grass, his Martial Soul released instinctively, and two yellow Hundred-Year Soul Rings rose from beneath his feet.
"It's you." The one who had entered was
Tie Xin had seen enough of the world to recover from his shock by now. "Ah Long, you know Soul Venerable Tang San?"