Gentle energy lifted
Xue Beng insisted earnestly. "Teacher, if you don't deserve it, then no one ever could. This bow isn't just for myself — it's for our million-strong army, and for the countless citizens of the Tian Dou Empire." His words rang with absolute sincerity. Tang San could hear that every word came straight from the heart.
Xue Beng straightened and looked at Tang San, who stood before him with that same warm expression, not a trace of fluctuating energy remaining about his body. Tears of excitement had already formed a shimmering veil before the emperor's eyes. "Teacher, do you know? Just yesterday, I was still prepared to fight to the death. I can finally say it now. When we learned that the Spirit Empire had a god on their side, I had already accepted my fate. I prayed in my heart — prayed that you would come back. But the battle was today, and I knew my prayers were a luxury I couldn't afford. Yet you truly did return. Having achieved the rank of God of the Sea, you appeared before every single soldier exactly when the Tian Dou Empire needed you most, and with your invincible divine power, you led us to victory and broke through Jialing Pass. I had dreamed of this scene before, but I never imagined it would come so quickly, so directly. Teacher, I truly don't know how to repay you. If you're willing, I would even give up this throne to you."
"Your Majesty, you mustn't." Tang San extended both hands to catch Xue Beng before he could bow again, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He could easily have stopped the bow with his own energy, but he had reached out with his hands instead — a gesture of genuine respect for the emperor.
Tang San smiled. "Today's complete victory wasn't achieved by me alone. Everyone present played a vital role — especially the old monster. His Green Phantom Serpent Emperor poison startled even me."
Tang San laughed. "Old monster, so what if I don't have a shred of power right now? My father, my uncle, and my teacher are all right here. Even if someone's going to thrash me, it wouldn't be your turn!"
As he spoke, Tang San released his hold on Xue Beng, turned, and dropped to both knees before
Seeing Tang San kneel, Xue Beng dropped to his knees as well. This time, Tang San didn't stop him. And when the emperor knelt, the generals couldn't very well remain standing — with a great rustling sound, an entire row of them dropped to the ground.
In that moment, Tang Hao had eyes only for Tang San. Gazing at his son — that long-haired young man with features like carved jade — his expression had gone almost dazed. This most famous iron-willed man in the entire world of Soul Masters had tears brimming in his eyes. Once, he had only wanted his son to live an ordinary life. He still remembered clearly how young Tang San would cook porridge for him every morning back then. The family had only had so much rice, and after Tang San finished cooking, he would drink nothing but the thinnest water on top, saving the thicker grains with more sustenance for his father. And Tang San had been less than six years old at the time.
Now his son had grown up, and he was so remarkable — green surpassing the blue, far exceeding his father. In this moment, what Tang Hao felt was not joy, but guilt. Decades of guilt toward his son. Everything his son had achieved today, he had earned virtually through his own effort. Others saw only his god-tier strength now, but how many had witnessed the more than twenty years of suffering Tang San had endured behind that divine power? Tang Hao could vividly imagine it — how many times Tang San had brushed past death, how many times he had teetered on the very edge of oblivion to reach this moment.
Tang Hao surged to his feet, took one step forward, and hauled Tang San up from the ground with both hands. Then he pulled his son into a fierce embrace, crushing him against that iron-hard chest.
With Tang Hao's temperament, he could never bring himself to utter the tender, apologetic words that might flow from another father's lips. But his embrace, and the tears that spilled freely from his eyes, told Tang San more than enough.
Tang San held his father's powerful frame in return. He did not cry, but his lips were pressed tightly together, the emotion blazing in his eyes no less intense than Tang Hao's.
Though he had lived two lifetimes, Tang Hao was the only father he had ever known. A father will always be towering in his son's eyes. Every child, when young, sees his father as the first hero of his heart. Tang San was no exception — even back when Tang Hao had been nothing but a drunkard, Tang San had never once looked down on this man. A father's recognition was the thing a son wanted most in all the world.
"Dad, you and Mom gave me life. That is a debt I could never repay with everything I have. My life belongs to you. Everything I've gained belongs to you too."
Tang San had read every thought in his father's heart, and he offered comfort in the most direct way he knew.
Tang Hao raised his head, his steady, powerful hands gripping Tang San's shoulders as he studied his son's handsome face. He nodded firmly. "You are your father's pride."
Though Tang San had been struggling to control his emotions the entire time, the moment those words left Tang Hao's lips, his tears broke free at last and streamed down his cheeks.
"Xiao San, you are also your teacher's pride — the pride of a lifetime." The Great Master stepped up beside Tang Hao. Looking at Tang San, the emotion in his eyes rivaled Tang Hao's at the very least. He had trained a god.
Tang Hao released his hands and stepped back slightly, yielding Tang San to the Great Master. Tang San dropped to his knees once more, kneeling before the Great Master. When the Great Master moved to help him up, Tang Hao caught his arm. "Great Master, you must accept this. What you gave Xiao San was far, far more than I ever did. I was a failure as a father, but you — you were the finest teacher there ever was. Without you, there would be no Xiao San today."
The Great Master, held fast by Tang Hao's grip, couldn't possibly break free. He could only watch as Tang San performed the full three bows and nine kowtows before him in deep reverence.
Tang San did not rise. He lifted his head to face the Great Master, his eyes glistening with tears. "Teacher, there is something I've wanted to say for a very long time. But I always felt I wasn't worthy yet — because I hadn't reached the pinnacle of Soul Masters. I was waiting for this day. Now I've finally broken through the hundredth level and inherited the divine throne of the
The Great Master froze, clearly not understanding what Tang San was about to say.
Tang San's eyes had turned deep red. "Teacher, you've lived a lonely life, without children of your own. You poured every ounce of your heart and blood into me. You may not be my birth father, but in my heart, you have long since stood in the place of one. Father — please accept Tang San's bow."
With those words, Tang San bowed again, pressing his forehead hard against the floor three times. Earlier he had bowed as a student. Now he was bowing as a son. Just as Tang Hao had said, what the Great Master had given Tang San far exceeded what he himself had. And Tang San had finally spoken the words hidden in his heart at the most glorious moment of his life.
The Great Master stared blankly at Tang San. His body swayed — had Tang Hao not caught him from behind, he would have collapsed. His lips trembled and quivered as he looked at Tang San, unable to utter a single word. His shaking hands rose slowly and came to rest on Tang San's broad shoulders. He was sobbing beyond all control.
A lifetime of memories flashed through the Great Master's mind like a series of paintings. As a child, he had been mocked by his peers in the family because of his mutated Martial Soul. He had never been able to hold his head up, and it had shaped his silent, withdrawn nature. When he watched those same peers growing up step by step, each manifesting the Blue Lightning
Later, he met the woman he loved most in his life. She came from Spirit Hall, but when she entered his world, he had no idea of her identity. Though the Great Master's Martial Soul had mutated, he possessed an intelligence beyond ordinary people and an unparalleled understanding of Martial Souls. Gradually, they fell in love. First love is always the most beautiful and the most unforgettable. In the Great Master's heart, that stunningly beautiful woman was the goddess of his soul. Even after they were together, he hadn't dared to be intimate with her, fearing even the slightest impropriety.
That woman was not
They had been together for a full two years, and those two years were arguably the happiest of the Great Master's life. He shared with Bibi Dong every wild idea and brilliant theory he had about Martial Souls. Every day with her was carefree, filled with joy. He had always believed that Bibi Dong was an angel sent by heaven to compensate him for the flaw in his Martial Soul — an angel who belonged to him alone. It was because of Bibi Dong that he had finally emerged from the shadows within his heart, determined the path his future would take, and poured his passion into the deep study of Martial Souls.
But the good times did not last. The tragedy continued. One day, his goddess appeared before him and told him coldly that everything between them had been nothing more than a means to extract his knowledge of Martial Souls. It was over. Just that one simple sentence shattered the Great Master's heart. The wound it carved had never healed, even to this day.
Though the Great Master could have picked apart the many flaws in Bibi Dong's words, she had truly left him. He also finally learned her identity — the Saintess of Spirit Hall, the next in line to become Pope. Everything she had said left him no choice but to believe. That night, the Great Master got drunk for the first time in his life, so consumed by wine that he lost all consciousness. He never wanted to wake up again.
Later, he met Liu Erlong and Flandre — yet another tragedy. The second woman he fell for turned out to be his own cousin. When he left Liu Erlong, the only thing he could think of was death. Yes — only death. When he was about to end his own life, a single conviction held him back. Before he died, he would prove to the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon family that he was no waste.
From that point on, the Great Master devoted every fiber of his being to studying Martial Souls, forgetting food and sleep. Only in the depths of research could he stop reliving the pain of the past — until the day he met Tang San. The Great Master remembered it with perfect clarity: the moment he saw Tang San's Innate Full Soul Power and identified his Twin Martial Soul, the explosion of excitement that had surged through him. He knew his chance had arrived. Through this child, he might finally prove himself to his family. And so Tang San became his disciple.
If, in the beginning, the Great Master's primary motivation had been to prove himself to his family, then over time Tang San's place in his heart had grown ever more important. Even the Great Master himself could no longer tell whether he had always seen this boy merely as a student, or something far deeper.
The years had passed, and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon family no longer existed. As the Imperial Preceptor of the Tian Dou Empire, the Great Master no longer needed to prove anything to anyone. Yet his heart remained hollow. Even though he spent every day with Liu Erlong, the shadow inside him had never dissipated. Until this very moment — when Tang San looked at him and called him "Father." At those words, the last wall in the Great Master's heart finally crumbled. He had rediscovered the meaning of his life, after thirty long years. For his son. For his very own son. He would give even his life without a moment's hesitation.
"Good child, good child..." The Great Master's trembling hand stroked Tang San's head, great heavy tears rolling down his cheeks. The rigid muscles of his face were twitching faintly.
Truth be told, Tang Hao, standing behind him, felt a twinge of envy — but not jealousy. If he had given Tang San the gift of life, then the Great Master had given him the gift of nurturing and guidance. A teacher for a single day is a father for life. Tang San's cry of "Father" could not have been more fitting.
The Great Master's emotions continued to churn beyond his ability to contain them. It was Liu Erlong who stepped forward, helping him lift Tang San to his feet. She wiped the tears from the Great Master's face with her own hands, and she was crying too. After all these years, who understood the bitterness in the Great Master's heart better than she did?
Flandre said softly, "Xiao Gang, this is a joyous occasion. You should be happy!"
The Great Master nodded vigorously. Looking up at Tang San — who was already much taller than him, pulled upright by Liu Erlong — he spoke in his distinctive voice, trembling: "Xiao San, can you say it once more?"
"Dad —" Tang San surged forward and wrapped the Great Master in a tight embrace, releasing that cry once more — the one that made the Great Master's very soul tremble.
"Good, good, good. Even if I die in the next instant, I, Yu Xiao Gang, have not lived in vain. I have a son. I have a son! Hahaha... hahaha..."
Amid that laughter, the Great Master's face suddenly went deathly pale. The laughter cut short, and he slowly crumpled into Tang San's arms.
Tang San's face drained of color. He caught the Great Master immediately, one hand pressing against his chest.
Overwhelmed — the bitter anguish of a lifetime finally finding resolution, the violent swing from deepest grief to greatest joy, decades of suppressed pain erupting all at once — the Great Master's fragile heart vessels had finally ruptured. His life force was draining away like floodwaters bursting through a dam.
"Dad —!" Tang San cried out in alarm.
The Great Master lay in his arms, his breath barely a thread. "Xiao... San... th... thank... you. Although... my... life... has come to... its end... to... die like this... I never... imagined... Help... me... kill... Bibi Dong... This... is my... last... wish..."
"No — Teacher, you won't die. You won't die!" In the crisis, he had reverted instinctively to that familiar address. Tang San's eyes changed — in that instant, both his pupils turned a deep, luminous sapphire blue. The years of anguish sealed inside the Great Master's heart had erupted along with the rupture of his vital vessels. This was a death sentence, without question. But do not forget: the man who had just acknowledged him as a son, and before whom he had knelt, was a god.
A vast surge of Sea God's divine power cascaded forth like the tide, instantly engulfing the Great Master's body and locking it within a shell of crystallized energy. Every vital function was frozen in this single moment — held in perfect stasis, prevented from changing by even a fraction. Tang San forcibly clung to that last ember of life.
"I will not allow anything to take your life," Tang San said, his voice carrying an unshakable resolve, each word spoken with absolute, unyielding finality.