Chapter 343: Tang San, Your Mother Isn’t Human, She’s a Spirit Beast
Chapter 343: Tang San, Your Mother Isn’t Human, She’s a Spirit Beast
On the outskirts of the Star Dou Great Forest, the scent of blood permeated the air.
"Bang!!!"
The Clear Sky Hammer in Tang Hao’s hand crushed the head of a leopard-shaped thousand-year Spirit Beast, splattering shredded meat and bone fragments across the ground.
The dark gold patterns on the hammer’s body were stained with red and white fluids, which dripped down the surface of the hammer.
The leopard-shaped Spirit Beast’s corpse twitched twice before collapsing with a thud, flattening a patch of shrubs.
Broken branches snapped and crackled.
"Cough, cough!"
Tang Hao knelt on one knee and coughed violently, spitting a mouthful of dark red blood onto the blades of grass.
Droplets of blood hung precariously from the tips of the grass, reflecting the fragmented light filtering through the canopy.
"Dad!"
Tang San rushed over, supporting Tang Hao’s arm with both hands.
That arm was as hard as iron, yet it was trembling slightly.
His muscles were taut, veins bulging, and his skin was terrifyingly hot to the touch.
"I’m fine."
Tang Hao wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, his voice as heavy and ragged as a bellows.
His sleeve was stained dark red, making it impossible to distinguish between the Spirit Beast’s blood and his own.
He pushed off the ground, his knees leaving the earth, and swayed for a moment before steadying himself.
"Help me... over there."
Tang Hao pointed toward a waist-high bluestone.
The surface of the bluestone was covered in dark green moss, with a few ferns sprouting from the crevices.
Tang San gritted his teeth, taking half of his father’s weight onto his thin shoulders.
Tang Hao’s arm pressed down on his shoulder with a weight as heavy as a mountain.
Tang San’s knees buckled slightly, his feet sinking into the soft humus soil, but he clenched his jaw and held firm.
With every step Tang Hao took, bean-sized beads of sweat seeped from his forehead.
The sweat slid down the furrows of his cheeks and dripped onto Tang San’s shoulder.
His breathing was rapid and heavy, like a leaking bellows; every breath he took caused his chest to let out a raspy wheeze.
The old injury had been aggravated during the fight against the Blue Silver King just now.
Every vine that over eighty-thousand-year plant Spirit Beast lashed out with carried the force to shatter stones.
Tang Hao had tanked three hits, and his old wound had reopened.
On their way out, they had encountered several Spirit Beasts that had sniffed out the blood, including some ten-thousand-year ones.
Tang Hao had crushed its skull with a single hammer strike, but he had also coughed up two more mouthfuls of blood.
Now, the spirit power within his body was almost completely drained.
His Meridians were empty, like a dried-up riverbed.
Tang San settled his father beside the bluestone, letting Tang Hao’s back rest against the cool stone surface.
The temperature of the bluestone seeped through his clothes, and Tang Hao’s tense back slowly relaxed.
He closed his eyes tightly, panting heavily.
"Dad, don’t move."
Tang San pulled several small cloth bags from the spirit tool at his waist.
The bags were made of coarse burlap, their openings tied shut with leather cords.
He untied one first and poured out a pale yellow powder.
Tang San ran a circle around the bluestone, sprinkling insect repellent powder.
The moment the powder hit the ground, it made a sizzling sound, and the insects on the ground scattered in all directions.
A few black beetles flipped onto their backs, their legs twitching a few times before going still.
A colony of ants swarmed out in panic; some climbed up grass blades only to be stuck by the powder.
Next, he sprinkled a dark brown poisonous powder.
It was a concoction he had made from the venom sac of a Datura Snake.
Tang San had dried the venom sac, ground it into powder, and mixed it with three types of herbs, increasing its toxicity several times over.
The powder adhered to the surrounding tree trunks and shrubs.
Leaves that touched the powder immediately curled at the edges, turning a scorched yellow.
The moss on the tree trunks sizzled, producing tiny white bubbles.
If any Spirit Beast touched it, their skin would fester.
Tang San squatted down and grabbed a handful of withered leaves to cover the powder, creating a layer of camouflage.
After finishing this, Tang San quickly returned to Tang Hao’s side and took out clean cloth strips and hemostatic medicine from another bag.
He tore open the blood-soaked clothes on Tang Hao’s chest.
The fabric was stuck to the wound, making a faint tearing sound as it was pulled away.
Tang Hao let out a muffled groan, his fists clenching and then relaxing.
A hideous wound stretched from his collarbone down to his ribs.
The flesh was mangled, the edges already turning black, and the exposed meat had a dark purple hue—the color of clotted blood.
The muscles deep within the wound were still pulsing slightly, squeezing out a bit of dark red blood with every beat.
Tang San’s hand trembled.
His fingertips hovered over the wound, not daring to descend.
"Little San."
Tang Hao’s eyes remained closed, his voice steady.
"Just do it."
Tang San took a deep breath.
He evenly sprinkled the hemostatic powder onto the wound.
Upon contact with the blood, the powder immediately turned into a pale yellow foam, making a sizzling sound.
The foam grew more abundant, covering the mangled flesh.
The muscles on Tang Hao’s face twitched twice; his masseter muscles bulged and then receded.
He didn’t make a sound.
Tang San wrapped the cloth strips tightly around the wound in circles, his movements quick and steady.
The cloth went from the collarbone, under the armpit, and back across the chest, each wrap overlapping half of the previous one.
On the seventh wrap, Tang San tied a sturdy knot and gave it a firm pull—the cloth strip sat tight against the skin, no longer loose.
With the bandaging finished, Tang Hao’s breathing gradually steadied.
The rise and fall of his chest became shallower, and the rhythm slowed down.
Tang San sat down beside his father and remained silent for a long time.
The wind blew through the canopy, making the leaves rustle.
A gray bird took flight from a branch, its wings flapping as it disappeared into the depths of the dense forest.
Tang San clenched his fists.
His fingertips dug into his palms, leaving several white marks.
"...Dad."
Tang Hao didn’t open his eyes.
"Mm."
Tang San’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
"Why exactly did you bring me to the Blue Silver Forest?"
Tang San’s clenched fists tightened even further.
"And why did those Blue Silver Grass plants attack us?"
He felt that there was some secret here that he wasn’t aware of.
From the moment they entered the Blue Silver Forest, everything had seemed strange.
At first, when some Blue Silver Grass sensed his Spirit, they indeed had a friendly reaction; their leaves swayed gently, as if greeting him.
But in the next second, all the Blue Silver Grass went into a frenzy and lashed out.
Tang Hao opened his eyes.
Those eyes were bloodshot and murky, as if covered by a layer of dust.
Bloodshot veins spread from the corners of his eyes to the edges of his pupils, each as thin as a hair yet piercingly red.
A gray haze obscured their original color, making his eyes look like a frozen river in winter.
Tang Hao gazed at the dense canopy above, not speaking for a long time.
The canopy was layered, with leaves of dark and light green interlacing; occasionally, a beam of light leaked through the gaps and fell onto Tang Hao’s face.
That face was crisscrossed with furrows, with every wrinkle etched by the wind and frost.
"Little San."
Tang Hao’s voice was as raspy as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper.
On that face marked by wind and frost, two lines of tears suddenly slid down.
Murky.
Silent.
The teardrops overflowed from the corners of his eyes, trickling down the furrows of his wrinkles, past his cheekbones and nasolabial folds, and hanging on his stubble.
Tang San’s heart was wrenched violently.
In his memory, his father was always that drunken, taciturn blacksmith.
In the blacksmith shop of Saint Spirit Village, the furnace fire burned bright red, and Tang Hao would swing his iron hammer, clanging it against the red-hot iron blocks.
Fire Sparks flew everywhere, landing on his bare arms and burning white spots, yet he didn’t even flinch.
Even during his most destitute times in Saint Spirit Village, even when people pointed at his back and called him a useless waste, Tang Hao had never shed a single tear.
When the woman next door made veiled insults, he would simply roll over and snore loudly.
Now, he was crying.
"Dad..."
Tang San opened his mouth, but his throat felt as if it were blocked.
"You once asked me who your mother was."
Tang Hao wiped the tear tracks from his face with his rough fingers, his voice so soft it seemed it might scatter in the wind.
His fingertips were covered in calluses, making a rustling sound as they rubbed against his face.
The tear tracks were wiped away, only for new tears to flow down.
"Today, I will tell you."
Tang Hao took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently.
The air he inhaled swirled in his chest before being exhaled with the scent of blood.
"Your mother’s name is Ah Yin."
When Tang Hao spoke that name, the corners of his mouth twitched, looking like a smile and a sob at the same time.
"She... was not human."
(End of Chapter)
[Get +50 Extra Chapters on - P@tr3on "RinBlaze"]
[Every 15 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]