Chapter 5: Tang San

Wong Yazhu was now walking through the village, donning simple pants, saddles, and a heavy tunic shirt. After the lovely, emotional family talk, his parents sent him out to play while they returned to work. He decided to use this chance to find Tang San and play with him, but he noticed something odd on his way to the blacksmith.

All of Prime Wong Yazhu's friends were now avoiding him. He saw the girl that awakened the blue-silver grass earlier, and when he tried to talk to her like Prime Wong Yazhu would have, the girl ran away. As a grown man, he could easily understand why this was happening.

They were jealous.

It made complete sense why they would be jealous that he had gotten spirit power and they hadn't. Even he would have been enraged if one of the villagers got spirit power and he didn't, but unlike them, he would have tried to get close to them, not distance them.

Shrugging them away, Wong Yazhu decided that Tang San was the only one who mattered in this village, no one else. Even his own 'parents' don't. They were just a means to an end. After he leaves off to school, they won't be of any use to him anymore.

As Wong Yazhu walked through the village, her mind wandered back to her Martial Spirit, the God Tree. She wondered if the tree's only ability was 'Essence Absorption.' He doesn't even know if that's it's true Initial Skill since he has no way to test it.

'Should I steal a chicken from the chicken coop and use it for the test?' He thought, glancing at the chicken as he walked past it. 'Maybe late. It's too bright out.' He decided. 

'But...' He looked down at his palm. 'What else does the God Tree give? Rinne Sharingan?' He shook his head as he tried to talk to another of Prime Wong Yazhu's friends, but the boy ran away. 

Acting 'sad,' he continued walking while his mind turned. 'You only get that after eating the fruit produced by the God Tree.' But then again, the God Tree is his soul, so maybe he automatically has it, just like how his God Tree didn't need to go through its ten-tail phase.

'Ok.' Clapping his face to get rid of his 'sadness,' Wong Yazhu shouted internally. 'Rinne Sharingan, open!!!'

...

As expected, nothing happened. No slit in his forehead appeared, and no third eyes appeared. He wasn't expecting anything in the first place. If he got the Rinne Sharingan, that would be too OP. 'I mean, Amenominaka and Infinite Tsukuyomi?' He didn't remember how strong a level 99 was in this world, but he would definitely be up there with those two abilities.

That brought him to another thought. 'Did I become an Ōtsutsuki?' It was a stretch, but a man can dream. Who knows, GOD might be feeling generous today.

As Wong Yazhu walked, he noticed he had arrived at the west side of Holy Spirit village, which was apparent when he saw the large cabin belonging to the village chief's place. Beside it was a three-room mud brick house that could be said to be the crudest in the entire village. It had a wooden plaque one meter in diameter over the door, painted with a simple hammer. The hammer in this world was the most widespread symbol of a blacksmith.

Standing by the door, he was about to knock but then thought, 'Byakugan!' not truly expecting anything to occur. 

Yet, to his astonishment, he felt a surge of energy, the warm breath within his core, ascending through his torso, neck, and into his head. This energy coursed towards his eyes, straining them in a way he had never felt before. He could feel the veins near his temples, connected to his eyes, bulge significantly, creating a noticeable imprint on his skin. His vision altered dramatically—his eyes turned entirely white, the irises included, with only a circular line in the middle of his irises, mimicking the pupil, yet also entirely white.

Suddenly, his perspective shifted; the door before him became transparent. Wong Yazhu stumbled back in shock, his mind racing to comprehend this unexpected development. Through the now see-through door, he could see clearly into the blacksmith's workspace—a simple room with a large table and only two stools at its center, and around the room were scrap metals and broken farming tools.

Sitting at the table was a middle-aged muscular man with a large, stalwart stature, standing at 198 cm, wearing a robe covered with holes, revealing his bronze-colored skin. His facial features, though once might have been considered attractive, now appeared waxen and neglected. His eyes, sleepy and distant, coupled with messy, unkempt hair and a disheveled beard, gave him a forlorn appearance. A dim, lifeless look overshadowed his once vibrant eyes.

'I HAVE BYAKUGAN!' He almost roared out, his heart thumping in his chest. 

Just then, the man slowly glanced towards the door, his dead eyes as if sensing an unseen observer. Overwhelmed by shock and a sudden fear of discovery, Wong Yazhu instinctively deactivated his 'Byakugan,' his vision returning to normal.

The excitement of this newfound ability was palpable, and part of him wanted to rush back home to further experiment with this power. However, before he could act on this impulse, the door opened. The man from inside, now standing in the doorway, loomed over Wong Yazhu, his towering figure making her feel diminutive, her head barely reaching his waist.

The man's gaze, though previously distant and unfocused, now seemed to pierce through Wong Yazhu as if seeing her for the first time. There was a moment of silence, a pause in the world around them, as the two stood there, locked in this unexpected encounter.

"Dad, who is there?" A boy's voice came from inside the house.

"Some kid." The man replied with a dead voice, turning around and scratching his back. He closed the door behind him, locking Wong Yazhu outside.

Just before she could knock, the door opened once more. Tang San was standing there, wearing the same clothes he wore during the Soul Awakening Ceremony, consisting of a simple blue shirt, black pants, and saddles, and he held a wooden ladle in his right hand. He stood 106 cm tall, half a head taller than Wong Yazhu, his short black hair framing his face and dark blue eyes staring into Wong Yazhu's eyes.

"..." He stared silently at her for a second before asking. "Why are you here?"

"To meet you!" Wong Yazhu replied, a wide grin on her face. "Hi Tang San~"

He looked confused. "Who are you?"

"!!!" She was shocked. "You don't know who I am!?"

"Am I supposed to?" Tang San asked, genuinely confused. He really didn't recognize her.

'What the fuck? How could he forget me after a few hours?' She shouted internally. "We just awakened our spirit together." She grumbled, before smiling and introducing herself. "I, Wong Yazhu, am a level 9 spirit scholar and the next Title Douluo!"

A groan was heard from Tang San's father, who was sitting on the table with his forehead resting on it. "Keep your voice down." 

Wong Yazhu ignored him, grinning at Tang San. "I am here to recruit you to be part of my team."

"I am not becoming a spirit master." He immediately declined. "My spirit is a trash spirit, it won't ---"

"Who cares." Wong Yazhu cut him off. He was the protagonist. He must have done something with his blue-silver grass to make it stronger. 'Or did he have another martial spirit?' She didn't remember. "We can push the limit. Show them that there is no trash spirit, only trash masters!" She declared.

Tang San sniffed the air. He wasn't even listening to her. "I need to cook." He stepped back into the house, and just as he was about to close the door, Wong Yazhu put her leg in the way, causing Tang San to stop before he closed the door on her. 

"You cook?" Wong Yazhu asked. She glanced at his father sitting on the table. "Why can't your father cook?" 

Tang San's eyes seemed to glint, something Wong Yazhu didn't notice. Before he could say anything, she continued. "I see..." She nodded. "Your father must be teaching you to cook." She looked at Tang San, smiling. "My mommy has also started teaching me how to cook portage! I can help you."

"Please shut up." Tang San groaned, glancing at the door, making Wong Yazhu flinch due to his dead eyes and the cold feeling they gave.

Seeing this, Tang San tried to push Wong Yazhu's feet away with his, subsiding and quickly slamming the door shut. He was walking back to the pot in the kitchen when the door was opened, and Wong Yazhu casually strolled in, closing the door behind her.

"Wow, your house is messy." She said, hopping over a rake head. "As your friend, I can clean for you."

"Leave." Tang San demanded, but Wong Yazhu glanced at his father, who didn't seem to care and looked like he was sleeping. 

Wong Yazhu saw this as a cue and walked past Tang San, sitting on the other stool on the table across from Tang San's sleeping father. She looked at an empty beer bottle, tilting her head.

"You drink the same drink as daddy." She smiled. "As your friend, I can get you one."

Tang San's father grumbled something in his sleep, and Wong Yazhu nodded. "Ok. I will bring it for you tomorrow."

Tang San stared at his father, who wasn't doing anything before, then at Wong Yazhu swinging her legs on the creaking stool. He decided to let her stay for now--

"Where is your mommy, Tang San." Wong Yazhu suddenly asked, looking at him with innocent eyes. "Is she working on the farm?"

The silence in the house was profound, the kind where the softest sound seemed to echo through the space. Wong Yazhu, still trying to process the unexpected turn of events, caught a glimpse of Tang San's cold eyes that froze her body. 

Just as the quiet became almost unbearable, Tang San's father, who had appeared to be asleep, spoke up. His voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "Leave," he said simply.

Wong Yazhu, taken aback, turned towards him, confusion written all over her face. "But—" she started, only for her words to be cut off by a sudden outburst.

"LEAVE!" he roared, the force of his voice causing him to shoot up from his seat. The intensity of the command shocked Wong Yazhu, causing her to lose her balance and fall backward from the stool. Tang San reached out, his quick reflexes allowing him to catch her before she could injure herself.

Reacting instinctively, Wong Yazhu pushed Tang San away and rushed out of the house. The door slammed shut behind her with a loud bang, echoing her abrupt departure. Tears streamed down her face as she ran, not looking back.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!' He roared internally as he cried. 'I fucked up! His mother was dead!?' He should have used context clues to figure that out. How Prime Wong Yazhu only heard stuff about Tang San's father and not his mother and the depressing aura in the house, but he went to open his stupid mouth.

'Fucking shi!!!' He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He was Wong Yazhu right now. 'Ah! Tang San looked like he was going to kill me! Not my Tang San! Ah, fuck, will I become a villain!?' 

He stopped. 'Wait, if I become a villain, why don't I just kill Tang San.' He wiped his tears, a smile creeping on his face. 'Yeah. He still sees me as a child, so he will have his guard down around me. I can definitely stab him with a knife and kill him.' It was a solid plan. Kill the protagonist before he can flourish. 'Hehe--'

A hand suddenly touched his shoulder, causing him to turn around. Behind was Wong Yazhu's worried mother. She cried, hugging her mother, her snort getting on her mother's gown. "Mommy!"

"What's wrong, baby?" Wong An squatted to meet her daughter's eye level, asking. "Tell Mommy what happened."