Douluo Continent III Haotian Wulin

After dinner, the house became unusually quiet.

Na'er was so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open, so Lang Yue took her to wash up. Tang Wulin also wanted to go back to his room to continue meditating, but he was stopped by Tang Ziran as soon as he stood up.

"Wait a minute, Wu Lin."

"Hmm?" Tang Wulin turned around and looked at his father with some confusion.

Tang Ziran patted the chair next to her.

"Come, sit down. Dad has something to discuss with you."

Tang Wulin obediently walked over and sat down.

The light wasn't bright, casting a warm, yellowish glow in the small room. The small square table, which had been laden with food during the day, now only had a few washed bowls lying upside down. The room was small, the furniture old, and cluttered with unrepaired items piled in the corner. Tang Wulin was used to this scene, but today, after his father's somber tone, he suddenly felt that the house seemed quieter and smaller than usual.

Tang Ziran did not speak immediately, but looked at her son first.

The six-year-old's eyes were still bright, clearly still immersed in the joy of "entering the Soul Master class," "learning meditation," and "having a younger sister." But it was precisely because of this that Tang Ziran found it particularly difficult to speak what she was about to say.

After a moment of silence, he finally spoke slowly:

"Son, I support you in wanting to become a Soul Master. I remember everything you said today."

Tang Wulin nodded vigorously immediately.

"Yes! I want to become a Soul Master."

"Okay," Tang Ziran said softly, "Then Dad has to tell you some more practical things in advance today."

Tang Wulin blinked, his expression, which had been somewhat excited, gradually becoming serious.

"Soul Master cultivation isn't just about having a Martial Soul and Soul Power," Tang Ziran said to his son, emphasizing each word. "After reaching level ten in Soul Power, to continue breaking through, you must fuse with a Soul Spirit. Soul Beasts are extremely rare now, and ordinary people can no longer rely on hunting them to obtain Soul Rings as they did long ago. For the vast majority of people, the only realistic way is to purchase Soul Spirits from the Spirit Pagoda."

Tang Wulin listened quietly without interrupting.

He had only vaguely heard about these things in stories before, but had never really thought about them as a real problem. Because in the mind of a six-year-old child, "becoming a Soul Master" is more of a dream, something that shines, something that is passionate, something that can definitely be achieved someday in the future, rather than a reality that needs to be measured with money right now.

Tang Ziran continued:

"The spirits from the Spirit Pagoda aren't given away for free. Unless your martial spirit is exceptionally outstanding and your cultivation is exceptionally fast, catching the Spirit Pagoda's eye, most spirit masters have to buy them themselves. The first spirit might only be the lowest grade, but for a family like ours, it's still a huge sum of money."

He paused for a moment after saying this.

The room suddenly became even quieter.

Tang Wulin glanced subconsciously toward the kitchen, then at the old kettle on the corner of the table that had been used for many years. For the first time, he realized in a very concrete way that "money" was not just a word his parents talked about, but something that could really stand in his way.

"Dad..." he opened his mouth, then asked softly, "Is it very expensive?"

Tang Ziran smiled, but there was a hint of bitterness in that smile.

"It's very expensive for our family."

These words were spoken calmly and without harshness, but to Tang Wulin they sounded more unsettling than any harsh words.

His father was a mecha repairman, and his mother took care of the household chores; the family wasn't well-off to begin with. Now, with the addition of Na'er, and both he and Na'er eating significantly more than before, Tang Wulin, though young, wasn't oblivious. He suddenly remembered the meals at home these past few days—his mother always put the best dishes on his plate, and his father always said, "I'm not hungry, you eat more."

He used to think that it was his family who loved him.

But now that I think about it, it wasn't just pain.

It is also a province.

Tang Ziran saw the change in her son's expression and felt a slight pang in her heart, but she still didn't take back what she had said.

Because he knew that if this child wanted to truly embark on the path of a Soul Master, he had to understand reality earlier than other children his age.

"Dad isn't trying to scare you," Tang Ziran said slowly. "nor is he trying to make you give up. On the contrary, it's precisely because you want to take this path that Dad wants to tell you—if you really want to become a powerful Soul Master, then you can't just wait for others to prepare many things for you in the future."

Tang Wulin raised his head.

"A real man must learn to rely on himself." Tang Ziran looked at him, her tone steady and earnest. "Your parents will try their best to help you, but what we can give you is ultimately limited. The only one who can truly take you to farther places is yourself."

These words, spoken softly, were instantly imprinted in Tang Wulin's heart.

Rely on yourself.

He silently memorized those words.

"So," Tang Ziran continued, "Dad has thought of a path for you. It's not about making you money right away, nor is it about making you give up your cultivation. It's about letting you start learning a skill that you can truly control from now on."

"What skills do you have?" Tang Wulin asked instinctively.

"forging."

Tang Ziran spoke those two words in a very steady voice.

Do you still remember Uncle Mangtian?

"I remember." Tang Wulin nodded, the image of that tall, fierce, and taciturn middle-aged man immediately appearing in his mind. "He came to our house before."

"Your father, Uncle Tian, ​​is a very skilled blacksmith," Tang Ziran said. "I told him about our family situation and your martial soul. He was initially reluctant to take on such a young child, but in the end, he agreed to let you try it out first."

Upon hearing this, Tang Wulin's eyes lit up.

"real?"

Tang Ziran nodded.

"Two hours every day. Learn, watch, and try things out first. If you're really suited for it, you'll gradually learn. Even if you progress slowly on the path of becoming a Soul Master, at least you'll have a skill that allows you to make a living."

He paused briefly as he spoke, his gaze falling on his son's face.

"Of course, forging is hard work. Much harder than you can imagine right now. You're still young, and Dad won't force you to learn it. But if you want to, you need to understand this: you're not learning it for fun, nor to escape training, but to qualify yourself to move forward in the future."

Tang Wulin quieted down.

He didn't answer immediately like he had when he said "I want to be a Soul Master," but instead looked down at his hands very seriously.

That hand was fair and small, and by no means looked like the hand that could forge iron or endure hardship. Yet, involuntarily, his martial spirit appeared in his mind—that small black hammer, pressing heavily in his palm, ordinary and dull, yet inexplicably reassuring.

If I really want to learn forging...

Is it true that we have to rely on it?

Thinking of this, Tang Wulin suddenly raised his head, his eyes becoming even more serious than before.

"Dad, I'll go," he said.

Tang Ziran was taken aback.

"Have you thought this through?"

"Yes." Tang Wulin nodded vigorously. "You just said that if I want to become a powerful Soul Master, I have to learn to rely on myself. I want to be a Soul Master, so I'm willing to learn."

He paused here, then added very seriously:

"Besides, I think my hammer... might actually be able to be used for this."

This statement surprised Tang Ziran for a moment.

But upon closer reflection, it seems not entirely unreasonable.

Although Tang Wulin's martial soul looks ordinary, it is unusually heavy, clearly different from ordinary weapon martial souls. As for whether it is suitable for forging, it may not necessarily be a bad thing.

"Okay." Tang Ziran nodded slowly. "Then you should try it first. Remember, it's a trial, not a forced effort. If you feel you can't take it, you can stop anytime and tell your dad."

"good!"

As soon as Tang Wulin agreed, he immediately jumped up from his chair, his expression showing no fear but rather a strong sense of anticipation.

In his view, "learning forging" is not a heavy thing, but rather another way to make himself stronger and get closer to the future path of a Soul Master.

He happily ran back to his room.

After the door closed gently and the room quieted down again, a warm drop of liquid suddenly landed on Tang Ziran's shoulder.

He turned around and saw that Lang Yue had been standing behind him at some point, her eyes red and filled with unbearable heartache.

"Wu Lin is so young..." Her voice trembled. "How can you bear to let him suffer like this? If we save a little more, and I find some work to do, we can still save some money."

Tang Ziran looked at his wife, remained silent for a moment, and then sighed softly.

"I know you're heartbroken, and I am too," he whispered. "But it's precisely because of this heartache that I can't keep him in my arms forever."

He looked up at his son's bedroom door, his eyes filled with an undisguised tenderness and a deep sense of helplessness.

"In this lifetime, there's only so much we can protect him from. What if one day we can't protect him anymore?"

Lang Yue was stunned.

"Forging isn't just about learning a skill," Tang Ziran continued. "It's also about teaching him how to stand on his own two feet early on. If he really has the talent, at least he won't be easily trapped by others in the future. If he doesn't, it's just a matter of enduring some hardship and tempering his character, which is better than ending up knowing nothing."

As he spoke, his voice gradually lowered.

"Moreover... I always felt that Wu Lin's martial soul was not simple."

"You saw it too, his hammer is different from ordinary hammer-type martial souls. If he can really make a name for himself in forging, it might not just be about learning a skill to make money."

Lang Yue bit her lip and didn't say anything more, but tears still fell.

She certainly understood that her husband was right.

Understanding and not feeling sorry for someone are never the same thing.

The next morning, Tang Wulin went to school happily as usual.

On this day of academic class, the material taught by the teacher wasn't too difficult. Tang Wulin was already intelligent, and he listened attentively in class. Not only did he answer questions loudly, but he was even praised by the teacher twice.

When school was over, he walked out of the school gate with his schoolbag on his back and immediately saw Lang Yue standing outside.

"Mom?" He was taken aback at first, then his eyes lit up. "Why did you come to pick me up? Where's Na'er?"

Lang Yue quickly stepped forward, gently hugged her son, and the unconcealed heartache in her eyes resurfaced.

"Na'er is at home," she said softly. "Mom is taking you to Uncle Mangtian's place today."

Tang Wulin nodded immediately.

"I remember!"

Lang Yue crouched down, looked at her son's still-childish face, and asked softly:

"Are you really sure? Forging is tough. If you can't handle it, don't force yourself."

Tang Wulin straightened his face, and his tone became even more resolute than yesterday.

"I've made up my mind," he said. "Dad said that a real man should learn to rely on himself. I'm going to earn my own money to buy spirits from now on; I can't always wait for you to figure things out for me."

Upon hearing this, Lang Yue's nose immediately stung with tears.

She forced herself not to cry, and simply reached out and gently touched her son's face.

"Okay," she said softly, "Let's go then."

Aolai City is not large; the mother and son walked for more than twenty minutes before reaching their destination.

It was a small storefront, somewhat old on the outside, with five unassuming characters on the sign:

Mangtian Studio.

Before even reaching the door, a unique smell of metal and engine oil wafted over.

Tang Wulin blinked, feeling that this place was somewhat different from the "workshop" he had imagined. It was dilapidated, yet it exuded an indescribable sense of heaviness.

Lang Yue stepped forward and rang the doorbell.

A moment later, the door opened.

Mang Tian remained the same tall, dark-skinned man with a full beard, exuding an imposing and authoritative aura.

"Sister-in-law is here." He said in a low voice, his gaze first sweeping over Lang Yue, and then landing on Tang Wulin.

Tang Wulin immediately bowed respectfully.

"Uncle Mangtian."

Mang Tian nodded indifferently, his face still expressionless.

"Sister-in-law, go home first. We'll come back to pick him up in two hours."

Lang Yue glanced at her son reluctantly, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something more, but in the end she gritted her teeth and swallowed her words.

"Then I'll have to trouble you, Brother Mangtian."

After saying that, she looked down at her son.

"Listen to Uncle Mangtian, don't be reckless."

"Yes!" Tang Wulin nodded seriously.

After his mother left, Mang Tian turned around and walked inside.

"Come in with me."

"oh."

Tang Wulin quickly followed.