Douluo Continent III Haotian Wulin

When Tang Wulin ran home, he felt almost completely light.

It's not because I'm not tired.

On the contrary, after finishing that batch of parts at Mangtian Studio today, his arms were still a little heavy, and his back still felt the heat unique to forging. But all this fatigue was suppressed by the burning excitement in his heart, so much so that he walked with a light step as if he were walking on the wind.

Three years.

Three whole years.

From the age of six when he first stood before the forging table until now, he has lost count of how many times he has swung the Star Hammer, and he can't remember how much sweat he has shed in front of the furnace. While others can play, fool around, or go home and finish their homework peacefully before resting after school, he almost always has to take Na'er home first, and then rush to Mangtian Studio, where he stays until dark amidst the firelight and the sound of metal.

What is the purpose?

Isn't this the day we've been waiting for?

He had already crossed the threshold of level ten long ago.

To be precise, his soul power had already stabilized at level ten six months ago. However, without a soul spirit, no matter how much he cultivated, he could only remain at the outside, never truly entering the world of soul masters.

In the past six months, he has not bought the cheapest random soul spirit.

He held back.

Because Mangtian said that the first soul cannot be compromised.

Because my dad once said that if you really want to go far, you shouldn't always think about "making do for now".

So he kept waiting.

While struggling with the frustration of reaching level ten but still unable to break through, he continued forging, saving money, and putting every penny into that small iron box.

And now-

He finally got what he'd been waiting for.

"Dad! Mom! I'm home!"

Before even entering the courtyard, Tang Wulin was already shouting at the top of his lungs, so loudly that even the old lady hanging clothes to dry in the neighboring yard peeked out.

Soon there was movement inside the house.

"You child, keep your voice down—" Lang Yue had only spoken halfway when she saw her son rush into the house like a gust of wind, his face full of undisguised excitement.

Na'er was sitting at the table, licking her lollipop in small bites. When she saw him doing this, her purple eyes immediately lit up.

"Brother," she guessed almost immediately, "have you saved enough?"

"I've saved up 50,000!"

Tang Wulin practically shouted it out.

No sooner had he finished speaking than he pulled out the wages he had just received that day from his pocket and neatly spread them out on the table. Then, as if afraid that others wouldn't believe him, he rushed into the room, dragged out the old iron box that he had used for many years from under the bed, carried it back to the living room, and slammed it on the table.

The box was opened, revealing it to be full of banknotes and coins.

There are new and old, whole and small.

Each one may not seem like much, but each one was something he had painstakingly collected little by little.

"I'll count them for you."

When Tang Wulin said this, even his fingers were trembling slightly, whether from exhaustion or excitement, it was hard to tell.

"One hundred, two hundred, three hundred..."

He leaned over the table, counting the bills one by one, his eyes shining brightly, his breathing noticeably quickening. Na'er, still with a lollipop in her mouth, had already pulled over her little stool and obediently sat beside him to count. When Lang Yue came out of the kitchen, her hands were still a little wet. Tang Ziran, who had just come home from get off work, pushed open the door and saw this scene—

On the small table under the lamp, neatly arranged banknotes were laid out.

Meanwhile, the nine-year-old child at the table was counting his savings with a flushed face and an almost solemn expression.

"Fifty thousand one hundred".

"Fifty thousand two hundred..."

"Fifty thousand three hundred."

Tang Wulin finally stopped, raised his head, and his eyes were so bright they almost sparkled.

"That really is enough for 50,000!"

After saying this, he was stunned for a moment, as if only now did he truly believe that he had actually come this far.

50,000 federal dollars.

This is not an exaggerated number that would make wealthy families take notice, but for a nine-year-old child, it represents the weight gained through more than a thousand days and nights, countless hammer blows, and countless moments of exhaustion and perseverance.

Tang Wulin stared at the money on the table, feeling as if something had suddenly rushed up in his chest, making him feel intensely hot, and his eyes even started to swell slightly.

"I really saved up..." he murmured. "I really saved up."

Lang Yue stood to the side, and suddenly felt a lump in her throat.

Of course she knew how her son had gotten through those three years.

It is precisely because I know this that I understand even more what this table of money really means.

It's not about "the child being capable".

It was this child who forcibly replaced the time others spent playing, being lazy, and acting spoiled with the sound of hammers falling on the forging table.

Tang Ziran stood at the door, silently watching her son for a moment, and her eyes slowly welled up with undisguised emotion.

But Tang Wulin didn't stop.

He was happy, but his mind was still quite clear. After his initial excitement subsided, he glanced at the money on the table and suddenly became a little quieter.

Fifty thousand has arrived.

However, I'm still 20,000 short of actually buying a white ten-year soul spirit.

He already knew about the 20,000.

But when he received his wages today, he was so happy that he subconsciously shouted, "I've saved up 50,000!"

The room suddenly fell silent.

Na'er was the first to notice this change and gently tugged at Tang Wulin's sleeve.

"Brother?" she called softly.

Tang Wulin looked down at the money on the table, took a deep breath, and then forced a smile.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm only 20,000 short of 70,000. A few more months of saving will do the trick."

He was still smiling when he said this, but the smile seemed somewhat forced.

After all, a few months wouldn't have been a long time in the past.

But now his soul power has been stuck at level ten for a full six months. Every extra day he waits feels like the agony of being just one step away from becoming a "true soul master" but never being able to cross that threshold.

He's actually quite tolerant.

No matter how patient he is, he is still just a nine-year-old child.

Just then, Tang Ziran suddenly walked over.

He didn't speak immediately, but first bent down and sorted through the scattered money on the table, his movements slow and steady. After flattening the top few bills, he took out an old cloth bag from his pocket and placed it in front of Tang Wulin.

"Open it and take a look," he said.

Tang Wulin was stunned for a moment, and subconsciously looked up at his father.

"dad?"

"Open it." Tang Ziran repeated, her voice still calm.

Tang Wulin hesitated for a moment, but still reached out and untied the cloth bag.

Inside was a neat stack of banknotes.

It wasn't new, but it was clearly well-preserved; the edges and corners were pressed down neatly.

Tang Wulin was stunned after just one glance.

"This is..." He opened his mouth, then suddenly seemed to realize something, and his eyes widened.

Tang Ziran looked at him and slowly said:

"Here's 20,000. Your mother and I have saved it up for you little by little over the years."

The room was so quiet that even breathing could be heard clearly.

Tang Wulin was stunned, his hands even freezing in place.

"I originally thought that if you couldn't make it along the way, we would keep this money and use it to find you another path in the future," Tang Ziran said, looking at her son and emphasizing each word. "But now it seems that your mother and I were overthinking things."

"You've come this far on your own." He raised his hand and pressed down on the pile of money on the table. "The remaining 20,000 yuan isn't charity, nor is it to walk the rest of the way for you. It's just the last step your parents took to get you to the doorstep."

Lang Yue stood to the side, her eyes already red.

She didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly.

That 20,000 yuan was saved up little by little by the couple over the years.

She figured she could skip buying a new piece of clothing, skip a nice meal, and make do with whatever she could at home for now. She had considered holding onto the money until her son really couldn't manage anymore.

But looking at the table full of banknotes, she suddenly felt that no matter how much she and her husband felt sorry for their child, they couldn't let all the hardships their child had endured go to waste.

Tang Wulin looked at the cloth bag, then at the stack of his own money on the table, and for a moment he was speechless.

He was naturally happy.

But beneath that joy, a strange, indescribable sour feeling welled up inside me, making my throat feel tight.

It turns out that his parents had been saving for him all along.

It turns out that he wasn't the only one striving forward during those three years.

He lowered his head and quickly turned his face away, as if afraid that someone would see something.

Even though Kona was close by, she still noticed the slight redness at the corner of his eye.

She didn't say anything, but gently put down the unfinished lollipop, quietly reached out, and grasped Tang Wulin's hand that was resting on the table.

"Brother," she called him softly.

That sound seemed to ignite the burning passion in Tang Wulin's chest.

He took a deep breath, turned his head, and tried to put on a smile.

"Then..." His voice was a little hoarse, "that's seventy thousand?"

"Yes." Tang Ziran nodded.

"The money from the White Ten Years' worth of souls is enough."

Tang Wulin could no longer suppress the joy on his face and stood up abruptly from the stool.

"Is that really enough?!"

"That's enough." Lang Yue smiled and walked over, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "This time, you don't need to wait any longer."

Tang Wulin looked down at the money on the table, suddenly unsure whether to be happy first or rush over to hug someone. In the end, he simply hugged his father, then quickly turned and threw himself into his mother's arms, so happy he felt like he could fly.

"Dad, Mom, I can really go choose a spirit now!"

"Um."

"Yes, it's really ready."

That night, the Tang family home was more lively and warmer than ever before.

The two children devoured every last drop of food on the table, and Tang Wulin even had an extra half bowl of rice because he was so happy. Na'er also ate with great relish, her eyes shining brightly as if she was overjoyed for him.

But when it got really late at night and Tang Wulin lay back in bed, he couldn't fall asleep.

They had already raised enough money.

He was clearly only one step away from becoming a true first-ring Soul Master.

But precisely because he was just one step away, he felt as if he was suspended in mid-air by some inexplicable excitement, unable to come down or calm down.

Na'er was already asleep on the small bed next to her.

She was still as restless as ever in her sleep, and the blanket had been kicked off halfway again. Tang Wulin quietly sat up and helped her pull the blanket back up, his movements so practiced they were almost instinctive.

Moonlight streamed in through the window cracks, falling on Na'er's short silver hair, like a very thin layer of frost.

Tang Wulin stared at her for a while, and suddenly felt a strange discomfort in his heart.

A few days ago, Mom said that after a while, when she gets a little older, she won't be able to share a room with Na'er anymore. At that time, she'll have to give up the small room to Na'er and move to the living room to sleep.

This is perfectly normal.

But the thought of not being able to see her immediately when he opened his eyes in the morning made Tang Wulin feel inexplicably awkward.

He himself couldn't explain why.

I guess... it's just a habit.

Thinking of this, he sighed silently and quietly got out of bed.

Let's go out for a walk.

Otherwise, he really shouldn't expect to be able to enter a peaceful state of meditation tonight.

The door was opened gently and closed gently, without disturbing anyone.

The moonlight was beautiful, and the night in Aolai City was much quieter than the daytime, with a cool, damp breeze typical of the seaside. Tang Wulin walked along the familiar path, and before he knew it, he had arrived at the small garden in the commoners' district again.

This is a place he often brought Na'er to play when she was a child.

The garden wasn't large, with a small lawn, a few bluestones for people to sit on, and a path that was bathed in moonlight. The chirping of insects at night was soft and fragmented, not noisy at all, but rather making the surroundings seem even quieter.

Tang Wulin originally just wanted to come out for some fresh air, but when he got to the few blue stones, his steps suddenly slowed down.

For some reason, he felt that it was unusually quiet here tonight.

It wasn't the kind of quiet that's empty and desolate, but rather... it was as if the entire night had sunk down, sunk into the soil, sunk into the cracks in the rocks, sunk into the wind, and finally, little by little, fell upon him.

This feeling is strange.

But he didn't reject it.

On the contrary, the Star Hammer within his body seemed to be gradually becoming clearer in this quiet.

Tang Wulin then sat down cross-legged next to a blue stone.

Not far away, a small group of ants were crawling neatly along the edge of the crack in the rock, carrying scraps they had found from somewhere, one after another, quiet, tenacious, and tireless.

Tang Wulin glanced at it twice, and a sudden, inexplicable feeling stirred within him, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

The next moment, he instinctively closed his eyes.

My breathing gradually slowed down.

The night wind, the chirping of insects, the starlight, the moonlight, the soil, the bluestone, and the heavy sense of power within my body, all seemed to be slowly connecting together in some unseen place.

No teacher needs to remind them, and there's no need to deliberately try to catch them.

He naturally and gradually sank into meditation.