"Teacher, I…"
Tang San's lips shook. His heart wavered painfully—pulled to both sides, unable to split.
On the one hand, his father, blood of his blood, his long-lost pillar. On the other, his teacher, the shining figure who had guided him from despair to strength.
How could he choose?
He looked at them both, and whispered: "Dad… Teacher is the one I respect most. I can't… give him up."
Moonlight gleamed over his eyes. "But without knowing everything, how can I possibly decide? Please… tell me the truth. All of it. The gratitude, the grudges between Spirit Hall and our family. Otherwise—how can Xiao San tear himself in half like this?"
The boy's voice trembled with suppressed agony. Choosing one meant betraying the other. It felt like a knife through his chest.
Just the thought—leaving with Tang Hao meant never again seeing Teacher's face, his smile, his warmth—Tang San felt his world dim, meaningless.
"Xiao San, you…"
Tang Hao frowned deeply. His jaw clenched. He could feel something… strange in his son's eyes when he spoke of that child. Admiration, yes. Loyal devotion—yes. But sometimes, it almost seemed a breath away from… something deeper. He dared not think further.
"Are you truly so bound to your little teacher?" Tang Hao asked hoarsely.
Tang San nodded without hesitation. "Teacher is my lifelong faith. To abandon him… is impossible. But I also can't abandon you, Dad."
Before the rift could break him, Subei spoke, voice soft:
"Eliminate this burden, Xiao San. Did you forget already, what I told you back in Notting Village?"
Tang San blinked. "?"
"Full innate spirit power, twin martial spirits, and not mere scraps—but top-tier ones. The Haotian Hammer alone puts you at the summit. You will always have choices. Countless geniuses would embrace training you. Whether you follow me or not, your path is already open.
As for me…" Subei smiled faintly, but his voice was edged with tired truth. "My life was destined to wander. To be admired more for my face than for my worth. Perhaps, between us, Teacher and disciple was just a passing fate."
His sigh hung heavy. I only hope, whatever he chooses, Xiao San remembers not to stand against me… or my wives… or my godmother. Otherwise… even if it breaks my heart, I will not spare him.
Tang San clutched his fists so tightly his knuckles bled. Then—shouted:
"No! One day as a teacher, a lifetime as a teacher! Even if my father himself forces me—I will never abandon Teacher! Not even if I must cut myself off from everything else!"
His voice cracked, but conviction roared. He spun toward Tang Hao and bowed low.
"Father, if you won't tell me the truth, if you only demand I abandon Teacher—then forgive me. Xiao San would rather die by his own hand than betray him! Don't even think to intimidate or harm Teacher. I will not hesitate!"
The forest swallowed silence after those words.
Tang Hao's chest tightened, emotions splintered. Since when did sons renounce fathers for teachers? He had hidden in shadows, endured agony, nurtured vengeance—and now watched his only boy swear himself to another man. His heart twisted painfully.
Yet, at the same time… he was proud. Loyal. Righteous. Unyielding once he chooses. Truly my son. Truly Tang Hao's son.
He dragged in a breath, closing his eyes. "…Fine. You want truth? Then hear it."
"Xiao San, do you know why you never had a mother's embrace?"
"…Mother… died giving birth to me," Tang San whispered. The memory flickered—a man weeping, clutching a woman's cold hand. That crying man had named him San. Tang San.
But Tang Hao shook his head sharply. "No! She did not die of childbirth."
Tang San's entire body trembled.
"Your mother… was forced to die before Spirit Hall. They—Bibi Dong, Qian Xun Ji, all of them—they drove her to it!"
At the name Bibi Dong, Subei stirred—but held his peace for now.
Tang Hao's jaw shuddered. "Xiao San, your mother… was no ordinary woman. She was a soul beast. A hundred-thousand-year Blue Silver Emperor! For the greed of that damned Pope, Qian Xun Ji, they cornered her, lusting for her ring and bone. Forced her—forced her to sacrifice herself to save me. To save you."
He seized Tang San's hand and lifted it. Blue Silver Grass erupted unbidden, but fiercer, purer, touched by Tang San's evolution. Its aura… was her aura.
"You inherited her. Every blade of grass in you comes from her soul!"
Tang San's mind exploded—like someone had ripped the sky open and poured lightning in. Blue Silver Emperor? Mom was… a soul beast?!
His world warped.
Tang Hao gnashed his teeth in ache and rage. "Qian Xun Ji bore the name of Pope, and Bibi Dong was by his side! Without their collusion, without Spirit Hall's monstrous hunger, your mother would never have died!"
"I swore then—Spirit Hall and I, enemies unto death!"
His words thundered in the night.
Tang San staggered, his heart a storm of contradictions. Yet another memory flashed: Teacher's voice, smiling faintly, telling him again and again: Blue Silver Grass is not trash. Believe me—it holds hidden power…
Teacher always knew. Always saw. Always guided.
A thin tear trickled from his eye. "Teacher… you were right. Always right."
Tang Hao jerked in shock as he followed his son's gaze. For there, across the fire, Subei sat expressionless, but his eyes gleamed cold and sharp as blades.
And when Tang Hao spoke Bibi Dong's name again with venom, Subei let out a low, contemptuous laugh.
"Funny. Truly funny."
He tilted his chin proudly, voice rising crisp through the dark.
"I've never in my life seen a man so brazen as you, Tang Hao. You wave your hammer, call yourself righteous, and yet scatter blame on all in Spirit Hall—men or women—because you cannot face the truth of your own failure to protect her."
The fire popped. The forest went still.
The clash between Teacher and Father was no longer beneath the surface.
It would blaze now.
--
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