Chapter Fifty-Four: First Love, That Kind of Thing!

The old man saw Tang Fei and Little Fat return and immediately began to curse, pointing at Tang Fei as he shouted, “You little rascal, you still remember to come home? Even a dog knows to whimper a few times when it leaves, but you—raised you all these years and you run off without a word… Do you know how long I’ve been searching for you two? Do you know how worried I was?”

He didn’t scold Little Fat; he knew the boy had no opinions of his own, and if Tang Fei coaxed him, he’d just follow along.

“I left you a note, didn’t I?” Tang Fei glanced at the old man and spoke.

“Note? What note? I didn’t see any note.” The old man refused to admit there had been a note.

“You’re only mad because, with me gone, you don’t have anyone to hunt or cook for you, and Little Fat can’t break rocks for you. That’s why you’re so furious, isn’t it?” Tang Fei, well acquainted with the old man’s ways, said, “We’ve worked for you all these years. We deserve a few days of freedom and rest. Work a year, rest a day—we should get at least a dozen days off…”

“How can you think of me like that? Am I that kind of person?” The old man looked heartbroken and aggrieved. “Is this about resting or not? When you’re not hunting, you rest anyway. I was worried about your safety. You two ran off without a word… How was I supposed to know where you’d gone? The world’s so chaotic—what if you ran into bad people?”

“We smashed them,” Little Fat replied with a grin.

The old man’s face darkened, and he asked quietly, “Did you really run into trouble?”

“Let us sit down and catch our breath first,” Tang Fei entered the house, clutching his chest. He’d had his ribs broken by the Netherworld and had run a long way without stopping; his chest still burned with pain.

“My brother’s hurt,” Little Fat followed, carrying the sack of provisions, and told the old man.

“Serves you right!” the old man scolded, but immediately rushed to Tang Fei, reaching out to feel his chest. After a moment, his expression grew grave. “Two ribs broken. Luckily, you treated it with medicine, or the pain would’ve killed you on the road…”

He hurried back inside, fetched a small porcelain bottle, and poured out two black pills. “Take these first.”

Tang Fei didn’t hesitate; he took the pills and swallowed them. The old man, though of questionable character, would never harm him.

“I’ll give you a massage tonight; there’s a block of stagnant energy that needs to be dispersed.”

“Alright,” Tang Fei agreed.

The old man went back in, brought out two large bowls of water, and gave one each to Tang Fei and Little Fat. Watching them finish, he finally spoke, “Now, tell me—where did you go? Who did you run into? Who beat you up like this?”

Tang Fei looked at Little Fat. “I don’t have the strength; you tell him.”

Little Fat struggled for a while. “We went tomb-raiding, ran into fierce spirits… and people from the New Star… Big Brother got hurt when they ganged up on him.”

The old man looked at Little Fat. “Do you think I can understand any of that?”

Little Fat shook his head. “No.”

“Forget it, don’t make it hard for him. I’ll explain.” Tang Fei intervened—it was indeed a bit much to ask Little Fat to recount the story. “Phoenix left me a map. When I saw it, I thought with all that happening, no one must’ve entered the Emperor’s tomb yet, so I took Little Fat there…”

Tang Fei recounted their tomb-raiding adventure, up to the point where they encountered explorers from the New Star, and Little Fat smashed them away, one hammer blow at a time…

The old man’s expression grew serious. “Where’s the hammer?”

Little Fat opened the sack. “It’s inside.”

The old man grabbed the skull hammer, and instantly his eyes turned blood-red, murderous intent surging…

He spat out a large mouthful of blood on the spot.

The heavier the hatred in his heart, the more severe the backlash. The old man had hated all his life, hatred as deep as the mountains and seas. With the skull hammer amplifying it, his body simply couldn’t bear it.

Little Fat stared wide-eyed at the old man. “You’re just like Big Brother… He picked up the hammer and couldn’t stop vomiting either…”

The old man adjusted his breathing until his mind settled, then his eyes gleamed as he scrutinized the hammer in Little Fat’s hands.

“Lift it up, let me see,” said the old man.

Little Fat lifted the skull hammer.

“Swing it a few times.”

Little Fat, like a livestream host demonstrating wares, swung the hammer in the courtyard as requested, fierce and vigorous.

The old man studied Little Fat’s eyes and his mental state, sighing deeply. “A simple-minded fellow has simple blessings. This hammer was made for you.”

“Is this the legendary artifact?” Tang Fei asked.

“Almost certainly.” The old man nodded. “I’ve never seen it, but such a sinister hammer—there’s probably only one in the world.”

“Why can’t the two of us use it? Is it because we have desire in our hearts?”

“Too much murderous intent, too little ability, easy to suffer backlash,” the old man replied.

“What do you mean?” Tang Fei asked.

“It means, if you think too much but don’t have enough power to contend with the hammer, it’ll control you instead,” the old man explained.

“So, you’re saying someone with a strong enough cultivation could control the hammer?”

“Of course. The greater the power and cultivation, the more formidable the hammer becomes… Right now, you two can’t tap its real strength; Little Fat can only channel a single strand of its fierce intent.”

The old man nodded, adding, “It’s also possible that the higher their cultivation, the more desire in their hearts, making them even easier for the hammer to control…”

…

Wasn’t that all just empty talk? He’d listed every possibility—so which was the truth?

Tang Fei knew the old man didn’t really understand the hammer, only guessed based on its traits; and his guesses matched Tang Fei’s own.

What kind of hammer was this, anyway? Little Fat would have to figure it out himself, bit by bit.

“Little Fat’s mind is a blank slate; even the hammer can’t control him, so he can pick it up and remain unharmed…”

“But when he smashed the Netherworld… how did that happen?”

“He thought you were dead, which stirred up the fierce and hateful feelings in his heart, so the hammer took control of him…” the old man said.

“The hammer has its own consciousness?”

The old man shook his head. “You think it’s a person? With its own thoughts? It’s just… it contains fierce intent and some power I can’t quite grasp…”

He looked at Little Fat. “So, if Little Fat wants to control the hammer, he’ll have to find a way to strengthen himself… If he can’t, just let the hammer take the lead. It’s not necessarily a bad thing… Who cares who swings it, as long as he doesn’t hit his own people…”

…

Tang Fei looked at the old man. “What’s Little Fat’s current situation? What level of strength does he have?”

“It depends on fate,” the old man replied.

“What does that mean?”

“In life-or-death moments, if he erupts, he could even smash a Wish Realm cultivator.”

Tang Fei was dumbfounded.

Someone who didn’t even understand cultivation, relying solely on a hammer, could kill a Wish Realm expert… How monstrous, how heaven-defying was that?

He wished he could be a simple, pure-hearted youth himself.

“What if he can’t erupt?”

“Guess.”

…

Tang Fei knew, when Phoenix left, the old man must have eavesdropped on their conversation. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have said “Guess” in that annoying, mocking tone.

“While we were away…” Tang Fei looked at the old man. “Did anyone come from the New Star?”

“No. What, still thinking about that little miss?”

“Of course not,” Tang Fei denied immediately. “She promised me something… Said she’d deliver it when she got back. Now so many days have passed, not even a shadow.”

“Maybe she’s already forgotten you,” the old man said. “What kind of person is she? Princess of the Phoenix Empire. When she gets home, won’t there be thousands chasing her, crowds blocking her way… Who would remember some boy from the Old Land who doesn’t like washing his face?”

“I told you, I’m not thinking about her. I’m thinking about the supplies she promised me.”

“You just won’t admit it. When you asked if anyone from the New Star had come, you obviously took a deep breath… Were you nervous?”

“Go away, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Hehehe…” The old man grinned at Tang Fei. “First love—it’s a fleeting joy, rarely wholehearted.”

“So, just focus on healing. When you’re better, hunting, fighting for water, sending little birds skyward… life will be as it always was, nothing will change. That’s our fate.”

“Is it fate?” Tang Fei looked up at the sky and murmured.

He never thought there was anything wrong before, but now…

Once you’ve opened the door and glimpsed the world, it’s hard to close it again.

-------

Phoenix Palace.

Phoenix wore a white, irregular pleated long skirt, soft black leather flats on her feet. White socks just covered her ankles, making her look comfortable and cute.

Her black hair was neatly combed, simply held back with a butterfly clip—a woodland style.

Bright eyes and gleaming teeth, casual and understated, she looked less like an imperial princess and more like the girl next door.

Phoenix knew her father wanted not a princess, but a warm-hearted daughter.

When you put too much emphasis on being a princess, the colors of daughterhood fade.

When the father-daughter bond grows thin, the weight of the princess diminishes.

Phoenix knew what she needed.

Just as the lyrics of that song say:

For this reunion
I even practiced my breathing
for the negotiations, again and again