From the beginning of the awakening to its conclusion, seven days had passed. After those seven days the ritual was complete, yet Tang San remained standing quietly before the
The moment he stepped beyond the treeline, Tang San spotted his father sitting cross-legged on the ground with eyes closed.
Sensing his son's presence,
Tang San had never seen such an expression on his father's face before — infinite tenderness. His lips trembling, Tang Hao stared dazedly at Tang San's features, two lines of tears rolling down his aged cheeks.
"
"Ah Yin, Ah Yin… do you have any idea how much I've missed you? Why were you so foolish? Why…" Tang Hao's words were half sobs, half wail. Tang San could clearly feel his father's scalding tears soaking through the fabric of his robe.
Ah Yin — that must have been his mother's name. Without even realizing it, tears were streaming down Tang San's own face as well.
Father and son held each other as they wept, neither speaking, for a very long time. In the end, it was Tang San who broke the silence first, his voice difficult to force out.
"Dad…"
Tang Hao's body stiffened for an instant. He slowly raised his head, both hands gripping Tang San's shoulders, staring at him blankly.
"Dad." Tang San called out once more.
Tang Hao murmured, "Did you know? Your mother was beautiful. She truly was the most beautiful woman in the world — gentle, kind, radiant. Every word ever invented to describe loveliness seemed to have been made just for her. You're starting to look like her now, finally. It's as if I can see her waving to me again."
He tilted his head toward the sky and suddenly bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Ah Yin! Can you see? Our son has grown up. He's grown up — Ah Yin—"
His father's overwhelming anguish pierced deep into Tang San's heart. Tang Hao's raw cry made everything around them tremble, until a thin line of crimson crept from the corner of his mouth. Still roaring toward the heavens, he collapsed straight to the ground.
Tang San hurriedly caught his father's body, shock flooding through him. He pressed a hand against Tang Hao's chest and channeled a stream of gentle
The moment the energy entered, Tang San immediately sensed something wrong. The meridians inside his father's body were knotted and tangled in multiple places. His organs seemed displaced, and the energy channels were in complete disarray.
Heavens — if this were an ordinary person, they would have died long ago. Tang San's heart sank without warning. He had never imagined that his father, so formidable before the Papal Hall, had been carrying injuries this severe.
They were old wounds, and they weighed on Tang Hao's body with crushing gravity. Had Tang San's Mysterious Heaven Skill not been an authentic Daoist internal art, he would never have been able to perceive the true state of Tang Hao's condition. His father's body was on the verge of total collapse — one wrong move and he could die at any moment.
This was one of the most powerful Titled Douluo in the world. Tang San finally understood the depth of suffering his father had endured. How much had these years cost him?
Drawing a deep breath, Tang San straightened his father without hesitation and sat down cross-legged behind him. He first circulated the Mysterious Heaven Skill through his own body, then made a startling discovery — his Ren Meridian had opened completely. As his internal energy flowed through the eight extraordinary meridians, a single circuit seemed to boost his power several fold. Measured in Soul Power, Tang San had now firmly reached the fifty-third rank.
His hands, pale as jade, released a soft white aura that surged from his palms and pressed firmly onto the Lingtai acupoint on his father's back.
Gentle Mysterious Heaven Skill energy seeped into Tang Hao's body. Rather than rushing to heal the injuries, Tang San first let the internal power circulate through his father's system, warming and nourishing meridians that had been damaged and stagnant for years.
As a supreme Daoist internal art, the Mysterious Heaven Skill possessed extraordinary restorative power in its own right. But the resistance inside Tang Hao's body was immense.
Tang Hao's Soul Power was a ruthlessly domineering force. Even though it was no longer under his conscious control, that tyrannical energy continuously ricocheted chaotically through his disrupted meridians.
Tang San's Soul Power was far inferior to his father's in scale. All he could do was carefully avoid those violent surges of Tang Hao's energy while doing his best to nourish the damaged channels.
The longer the internal energy circulated within his father's body, the heavier Tang San's heart became. Tang Hao's old wounds were far worse than he had imagined — incomparably worse. One could say that Tang Hao's continued survival in this world was itself nothing but a desperate struggle against death.
"Mm—" Under the soothing influence of the Mysterious Heaven Skill, Tang Hao slowly regained consciousness from his faint.
It had been years since he had felt such comfort. He opened his hazy eyes, brow furrowing slightly. "Xiao San, stop. It's no use. I'm fine."