The dungeon of the Crystal Heaven is unlike any other prison in the world.
There is no darkness or dampness here, and no foul stench.
Instead, this place is made of special crystals, and the walls emit a soft, cold light that illuminates the entire space.
A strange energy fluctuation permeated the area. It did not harm people, but it could suppress the prisoners' soul power at all times, making even a powerful person at the Title Douluo level feel like a mortal whose strength had been drained, and even moving a finger was difficult.
In the deepest part of the dungeon, in a solitary cell, Tang Hao lay on a stone bed.
His once iconic, lion-like, messy and domineering black hair was now dry and brittle, like autumn grass, casually draped over his face, obscuring half of it.
The other half of his face was deeply sunken, his skin was sallow, his beard was unshaven, and his eye sockets were deep. He looked like a dried corpse that had just crawled out of a grave, and there was no trace of the "Haotian Douluo" aura left.
His eyes were empty; he stared blankly at the smooth, mirror-like crystal ceiling above him, motionless, as if his soul had already left his body.
"Squeak—"
The heavy crystal prison door was slowly pushed open, making a teeth-grinding scraping sound.
Tang Hao's eyes didn't move at all, as if everything in the outside world was irrelevant to him.
A tall, imposing figure walked in. He was wearing a simple gray robe, and his full head of white hair was neatly combed.
But his weathered face was covered with deep wrinkles, and his eyes were as murky as bottomless pools.
The person who arrived was Tang Chen.
He didn't speak immediately, but stood at the cell door, quietly looking at his grandson on the stone bed, who looked like a dead man.
Time ticked by, and the only sound in the dungeon was the barely audible breathing of the two people.
Tang Chen's eyes gradually changed from complex to disappointed, and finally turned into a cold, lifeless silence.
He looked at Tang Hao as if he were looking at a complete stranger.
"Tang Hao."
Finally, he spoke, his voice hoarse as if two rusty iron pieces were rubbing against each other.
Tang Hao's body trembled slightly on the stone bed. That sound...
It sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd heard it before. He remained motionless, not even turning his head.
Tang Chen slowly walked to the stone bed and looked down at him from above.
“Lift your head and look at me.”
Tang Chen's tone was completely devoid of emotion, "Do you still remember who you are?"
Tang Hao's body stiffened again.
This question struck him like a heavy hammer, slamming into his already numb heart.
who I am?
I am Tang Hao...
I am a genius that the Haotian Sect sees only once in a century...
I am... Ah Yin's husband...
I am... Tang San's father...
One identity after another flashed through my mind, but they were all like reflections in a mirror or the moon in the water, shattering at the slightest touch.
He recalled Ah Yin's resolute yet tender gaze during her sacrifice, and his heart clenched, the pain almost causing him to curl up in agony.
He thought of his little son, Tang San, who was stubborn and refused to admit defeat.
He abandoned him in Holy Soul Village, leaving him to fend for himself, and then found a theoretical master to guide him in cultivation.
What exactly did he, as a father, do?
"What, can't remember?"
Tang Chen's icy voice rang out again, filled with undisguised mockery.
"Then let me remind you. You are a disciple of the Clear Sky Sect, a Clear Sky Douluo! Your martial soul is the Clear Sky Hammer, the number one weapon martial soul in the world! Behind you stands the entire Clear Sky Sect!"
"But look at the state you've become!"
Tang Chen's voice suddenly rose in pitch, booming like thunder in Tang Hao's ears.
"What kind of thing are you? A coward who abandoned his sect for a woman, causing the sect to close its gates, a piece of trash who couldn't even protect his own wife! A fool who can't even teach his own son properly!"
"You lie here like a dead dog!"
"And your son, your good son Tang San, is out there, using your Tang family's name to slaughter the soul beasts of the entire continent, using the lives of countless beings to pave his path to godhood!"
"He has become a complete devil! Do you even know that?!"
"boom!"
Every word Tang Chen uttered was like a thunderbolt, striking Tang Hao squarely on the head.
devil……
Slaughtering Soul Beasts...
Tang San...
Tang Hao's empty eyes were instantly filled with shock and disbelief.
He suddenly sat up from the stone bed, the movement so forceful that it almost broke his weak body apart.
He stared intently at the old man before him, and long-dormant memories were finally awakened in his mind.
This face...this face is...
"Grandpa...Grandpa?"
Tang Hao's voice was so dry it sounded like it was about to crack; he couldn't believe his eyes.
"I'm not your grandfather!"
Tang Chen roared, grabbing Tang Hao by the collar and pulling him off the bed.
"I, Tang Chen, have no place for a shameless, cowardly, and useless bastard like you!"
"You pursued love and freedom for a 100,000-year-old soul beast. I admire your courage and support you. What a fine man!"
"But why don't you know how to bide your time and protect her?"
"When the accident happened, and you became an enemy of the entire Spirit Hall, did you ever think of your sect? No! You forced your sect to close its doors and remain hidden for decades. Did you feel even a little bit of guilt? No!"
"Your wife was sacrificed, and instead of thinking about how to avenge her or how to restore your sect, you wallow in self-pity and hide away to become a drunken blacksmith! Do you even deserve to be called a man?"
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