"Dad, is little sister okay?"
Tang San looked nervously at Tang Hao as he reached out and placed his hand on Tang Sui's wrist, seemingly examining her body. He dared not step forward, but a hint of incongruity flashed in his mind.
Dad... isn't he a blacksmith?
Why would he, like a healer, check someone's condition by feeling their pulse?
Currently, Tang San, who only possessed innate full spirit power but didn't know how to utilize this strength, was unaware that Tang Hao had released his spirit power to circulate within Tang Sui, checking her condition.
Upon receiving feedback that Tang Sui was too weak and her constitution couldn't support her in releasing the magnificent continent's number one spirit, the Clear Sky Hammer, Tang Hao felt a sense of relief. He looked at Tang Sui's pale, bloodless face, devoid of the baby fat typical of children her age, and her dry lips. A pang of guilt arose in his heart.
For years, he had been consumed by the grief of losing Ah Yin, and by extension, he had been neglectful of these two children, her bloodline, whom Ah Yin had borne him.
Seeing these two children, especially his younger daughter's eyes that so closely resembled his wife's, Tang Hao would be reminded of his lost love and the pain of his bereavement.
Evasion was not something Tang Hao could indulge in, but the current reality was that his avoidance had caused these two young children... to suffer along with him.
A heavy feeling overwhelmed his heart, tormenting him with guilt.
Tang Hao's other hand, clenched on the armrest of the chair, tightened slightly. The sturdy wooden armrest instantly cracked into fragments.
"Dad!"
Tang San was startled by the unintentional display of Tang Hao's strength and felt a flicker of suspicion. However, remembering that Tang Hao was a blacksmith and the strength required for forging iron, he suppressed this doubt once more.
Tang Hao snapped back to attention, feeling warmth on his cheek. He raised his hand and roughly wiped away the hot tears that had inexplicably welled up from the corners of his eyes. He let out a long, exhalation of stale air, turned around, grasped Tang San's small shoulders, and asked solemnly, "Xiao San, do you want to become a spirit master?"
Tang San blinked in surprise and looked at Tang Hao.
He did not wish to deceive his father about the path he wanted to take in life.
After a moment's hesitation, Tang San nodded.
Tang Hao sighed, his face, which appeared even more aged, contorted with complex emotions. These ultimately coalesced into a single sentence: "Remember, no matter which path you choose, always use your left hand to hammer, always protect the grass in your right hand, and also protect your sister, do you understand?"
Mentioning Tang Sui, Tang San's momentarily stunned face became solemn. With a composure unbefitting his age, he solemnly promised, "I will."
No one would be allowed to hurt his family again!
Seeing his son's demeanor, Tang Hao opened his mouth, as if to say more. However, the few exchanges between father and son over the years had been limited to mundane daily conversations.
Words of concern were difficult to utter, so Tang Hao shifted the topic, focusing his attention on Tang Sui. "Sui Sui should wake up after a nap. When she wakes up, I'll call you over again to ask for Sui Sui's wishes."
If his children were born so extraordinary, with both possessing twin spirit bones, that battle back then... He had an idea he wanted to verify, but it would have to wait until Sui Sui woke up.
Tang San nodded. Just as he was about to step around Tang Hao to pick up Tang Sui, Tang Hao's strong, bronze arm effortlessly lifted Tang Sui from the wooden chair and into his embrace. He then walked towards the inner room.
"Leave the little girl to me. You've been releasing your spirit for a long time; go rest well and get some sleep."
"After you wake up from your nap, I have something to tell you two siblings."
Tang San, who had intended to follow, froze in place. He watched his father carry his sister away, his gaze falling on the chair armrest that his father had just crushed. He squatted down thoughtfully, picking up the scattered fragments from the floor, his eyes gleaming.
Even with a blacksmith's strength, it was unlikely to crush wood so... neatly.
It was more like it had been compressed and ground into dust by some power.