Chapter 65: Is He Really Here to Save Me?
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Nuoding City, Spirit Hall Branch Temple.
The reception hall was bustling with activity; Spirit Masters moved in and out, attending to various administrative procedures, while the murmur of their hushed conversations created a low, buzzing hum.
Tang San stood at the entrance of the hall, his gaze sweeping across the room with palpable anxiety.
Earlier that day, he had heard from an academy gatekeeper that Master Yu had apparently been seen heading in the direction of Spirit Hall a few days prior.
After a moment of hesitation, he stepped inside.
No sooner had he entered than his eyes fell upon a familiar figure: Su Yuntao.
The very Spirit Hall Deacon who had awakened his Spirit back in the village was currently walking down a side corridor, clutching a stack of documents.
"Master Su!" Tang San’s eyes lit up; he immediately quickened his pace, stepping forward to intercept Su Yuntao.
Su Yuntao halted his steps and looked up at Tang San. Recognizing him as the "Blue Silver Grass kid" who possessed innate full Spirit Power, he gave a nod.
"It’s you, little fellow. Is there something you need?"
Su Yuntao still retained a distinct impression of this extraordinary youth.
After all, the contradictory combination of innate full Spirit Power paired with a seemingly useless Spirit—the Blue Silver Grass—was a phenomenon truly rarely seen.
"Greetings, Master Su." Tang San strove to keep his tone as polite as possible.
"I was hoping to ask you something: have you... happened to see my teacher, Yu Xiaogang, around here these past few days? He was supposed to come by to collect his Spirit Master stipend a few days ago."
Upon hearing the name "Yu Xiaogang," Su Yuntao’s expression shifted ever so slightly. He glanced left and right, then lowered his voice and said, "Tang San, come with me for a moment."
He led Tang San to a relatively secluded corner of the hall before finally speaking, his tone grave: "Tang San, take my advice: sever your master-disciple ties with that Yu Xiaogang as soon as possible."
Tang San’s heart sank, and his brows furrowed tightly. "Why? Master Su, what exactly do you mean?"
Su Yuntao sighed, lowering his voice even further.
"Yu Xiaogang... is suspected of stealing an Elder’s Token from the Spirit Hall. He has already been detained by our branch hall. Within a few days, high-ranking officials from Spirit City will arrive personally to preside over the case."
"Stealing an Elder’s Token?!" Tang San’s voice suddenly rose, his tone filled with utter disbelief.
"Impossible! My teacher would never do such a thing! This must be a misunderstanding!"
"A misunderstanding?" Su Yuntao shook his head, a hint of pity in his eyes.
"Tang San, you are young; there are some things you don’t understand. Let me put it this way: the Spirit Hall’s Elder’s Tokens are issued to only two types of people—first, the Title Douluo Elders who belong to the Spirit Hall; and second, powerful Spirit Douluo-level experts who have made significant contributions to the Spirit Hall."
He paused, looking directly into Tang San’s eyes.
"Yet your teacher, Yu Xiaogang, is merely a Level 29 Great Spirit Master. He is neither a Title Douluo, nor has he ever performed any deeds for the Spirit Hall that could be classified as ’significant contributions.’ Most importantly, we deacons of the Spirit Hall are required to memorize the roster of Elders. I can tell you with absolute certainty: there is no one named Yu on that list."
Every single word struck Tang San’s heart like a heavy hammer blow.
"Stealing an Elder’s Token is a capital offense within the Spirit Hall," Su Yuntao said, placing a hand on Tang San’s shoulder as his tone softened slightly.
"You are still young; don’t get dragged into this mess. Drawing a clear line between yourself and him now will only benefit you. Well, I have other matters to attend to, so you should head back. Stop asking about him—it won’t do you any good."
Having said his piece, Su Yuntao picked up his documents and hurriedly departed, leaving Tang San standing alone, frozen in place. Theft... the Elder’s Token...
These two words reverberated wildly within Tang San’s mind.
In his previous life, it was precisely because he had "secretly learned" the exclusive techniques of the Tang Sect’s Inner Gate that he was forced to leap from a cliff to prove his integrity.
Consequently, he harbored an almost instinctive aversion to—and sensitivity regarding—the act of theft.
Yet now, someone was telling him that the teacher he revered as a god—the man who had imparted theoretical knowledge, guided his cultivation, and stood as a towering, majestic figure in his heart—Yu Xiaogang—was actually suspected of stealing from the Spirit Hall?
"No... that’s impossible... Teacher wouldn’t do such a thing..."
Tang San murmured to himself, his face turning pale.
However, Su Yuntao’s words were logically sound, and the evidence was irrefutable. Yu Xiaogang’s cultivation level and contributions were simply insufficient to warrant an Elder’s Token.
Furthermore, the fact that his name was absent from the official list of Elders was an indisputable reality.
Could it be... that Teacher really...
Tang San dared not dwell on the thought any longer. Dispirited and lost, he turned around and walked out of the Spirit Hall branch temple like a mindless automaton.
Outside, the sunlight was blinding; the streets were bustling with pedestrians, and the sounds of hawkers calling out their wares and people chatting and laughing filled the air. Yet, to Tang San, all of this seemed distant and blurred.
He looked up at the dazzling sun, and for a moment, he found himself utterly at a loss—unsure of where to go or what to do.
Ultimately, with his head bowed, he walked slowly—one step at a time—back toward Nuoding Academy.
...
Late at night, within the dungeons of the Nuoding City Spirit Hall branch temple.
Deep within the passageway, a few scattered oil lamps cast a dim, flickering yellow light, barely managing to push back a small patch of the surrounding darkness. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and rust, mingled with an indescribable, foul stench.
Two guards leaned against the stone wall near the cell entrance, yawning and looking thoroughly drowsy.
Just then...
A tall, silent figure appeared noiselessly at the far end of the passageway.
He wore a long gray robe—so tattered and worn that its original color was no longer discernible—and his disheveled, filthy black hair hung loosely over his shoulders, obscuring the greater part of his face.
The exposed patches of skin were rough and swarthy, etched deep with the marks of wind, frost, and the passage of time; only his eyes—shining with a terrifying intensity amidst the gloom—seemed alive, like those of a lurking beast of prey.
"Who goes there?!" The two guards were jolted violently awake; scrambling in a panic, their voices cracked and wavered with sheer terror.
Tang Hao did not even spare them a second glance.
His figure flickered like a wraith, instantly materializing right in front of the two guards. His left hand shot out like an iron vise, clamping down with pinpoint precision upon the throat of the guard on the left.
Snap.
A faint yet distinct sound of bone fracturing rang out in the silent corridor.
The guard did not even manage to let out a scream; his eyes bulged grotesquely as his body went limp, slumping lifelessly to the ground.
"Ah—!"
The other guard was scared out of his wits; his legs gave way beneath him, and he collapsed onto his backside, staring in abject terror at the figure before him—a figure that resembled a god of slaughter.
"You... you... who are you...? Don’t kill me... I’ll tell you anything..."
"Where is Yu Xiaogang?" Tang Hao’s voice was hoarse and low, rasping like sandpaper.
"The second floor... the innermost cell..." The guard babbled incoherently, caring for nothing now but saving his own life.
Tang Hao gave a curt nod.
Then, as the guard watched in utter despair, Tang Hao’s right hand shot out as well, snapping the man’s neck.
Without sparing the body another glance, Tang Hao walked straight down the stairs leading to the second floor.
The second floor was even darker and damper than the first, and the stench hung even heavier in the air.
Tang Hao held his breath, his gaze sweeping across the rows of iron-barred cells until it finally came to rest upon the cell situated at the very end of the corridor.
He walked over and peered inside.
Even for someone as habitually unkempt as Tang Hao, the sight that greeted him inside the cell was enough to make him frown involuntarily, his stomach churning with revulsion.
In the corner of the cell, Yu Xiaogang lay curled up amidst a bed of blackened straw.
The black robe he wore—once a reasonably respectable garment—was now tattered beyond recognition, stained with unidentifiable filth and reeking of a foul, overpowering stench. His eyes were vacant, his face a mass of bruises; his exposed skin bore suspicious contusions and... bite marks?
It was as if his very soul had been drained away, leaving behind nothing but a filthy, dilapidated husk.
On the other side of the cell, a burly man with a hideous knife scar across his face lay sprawled out on the straw bedding, fast asleep and snoring like thunder.
Tang Hao’s gaze grew a few degrees colder.
This piece of trash... Forget it; he still has some use for now.
He and Bibi Dong shared a history; perhaps in the future, he could pry some useful information out of him regarding Xiao San’s cultivation of his Twin Martial Souls...
With that thought in mind, Tang Hao hesitated no longer. He raised his foot and delivered a ferocious kick straight at the iron bars—each as thick as a rice bowl!
"BOOM—!!!"
A deafening roar exploded through the narrow corridor!
In the face of a Title Douluo’s power, the sturdy iron bars were no more than rotten timber; they bent and snapped instantly, revealing a gaping breach in the cell door.
The colossal crash jolted both men inside the cell awake.
Yu Xiaogang and the scarred man simultaneously—and fearfully—flung their eyes open, staring out at the towering figure standing outside the cell door—a figure as imposing as an iron tower.
"You... You are...?" Yu Xiaogang’s voice was hoarse and trembling, yet within his eyes, a faint spark of hope was rekindled.
"Master, get dressed. We’re leaving," Tang Hao said, his expression impassive and his voice cold as ice.
He really came to save me!
Yu Xiaogang was overcome with ecstasy, nearly bursting into tears. He struggled to rise to his feet, only to find his entire body aching—and a certain unmentionable region, in particular, burning with searing pain.
To make matters even more awkward, his clothes... had long since been torn to shreds during days of inhumane torture. His trousers, especially, were in tatters—barely enough to cover his body.