For the next two days, Ning Chuan lived with unusual tranquility, even deliberately ordinary.
He no longer rushed into the All-Heaven Scrap Station to explore its endless treasures.
Instead, he settled his mind completely, truly living like an ordinary youth of Holy Spirit Village.
At dawn, when the sky was just beginning to brighten, Ning Chuan would rise to help his mother Liu Lan light the fire, prepare meals, and sweep the courtyard.
After a simple breakfast, he would go to his father Ning Dazhuang’s carpentry shed, dutifully assisting with the work.
Sawing wood, planing boards, sanding edges, handing over tools… These tasks, which he had once found dull and tedious, now held a different meaning for him.
Especially when his father needed to process some thick logs, he would call Ning Chuan over to help pull the large saw.
“Heave—ho!” Ning Chuan gripped the saw handle with both hands, pushing and pulling in rhythm with his father.
Accompanied by the steady chant, the saw teeth bit into the hard wood, producing a dull, regular sound.
Wood chips flew, and sweat soon soaked his forehead and coarse cloth shirt.
Ning Chuan did not use Spirit Power, relying solely on the physical strength gradually enhanced by his twenty-fifth-level Spirit Power.
Even so, it was much easier than before, and his endurance was incomparable to the past.
“Hmm, boy, your strength has grown,” Ning Dazhuang would occasionally pause, wiping his face with the towel draped over his neck, glancing at his son with slight surprise.
The boy who used to complain of exhaustion after sawing for a while could now work steadily for nearly half an hour without panting heavily.
Ning Chuan simply smiled earnestly, wiping away sweat.
“Maybe it’s from running up the mountain these past few days—built up some stamina.”
He carefully controlled his strength, showing improvement without being too astonishing.
Ning Dazhuang nodded, seemingly accepting this explanation.
A faint, almost imperceptible look of satisfaction flashed in his eyes.
He asked no further questions and returned to focusing on his work.
In the carpentry shed, wood shavings danced, and the sound of sawing filled the air, brimming with the solid, grounded atmosphere of daily life.
Ning Chuan cherished this feeling.
It gradually calmed his restless heart, as if he had returned to those ordinary boyhood days when he was ignorant of the future and only worried about today’s tasks.
However, their household was not the only one in the village producing the sounds of labor.
The blacksmith shop at the village’s end, which had always been lifeless with only occasional, sporadic clanging, seemed to have changed owners these past two days.
From morning till night, the rhythmic, powerful clang of hammering echoed without pause, as if tireless.
Every time Ning Chuan heard this sound, his heart tightened slightly.
He knew it was not Tang Hao.
Tang Hao’s hammering was rough, wild, carrying a venting ferocity, and he worked sporadically—only when he felt like it.
But now, though the hammering was equally heavy, it held a focus, a unique rhythm, and a… beginner’s concentration and persistence.
“It’s Tang San,” Ning Chuan was almost certain.
“Tang Hao has already begun teaching him the Chaotic Wind Hammer Technique.
He’s preparing to forge Tang Sect Hidden Weapons.”
The wheel of history continued to roll slowly along its predetermined track.
The future Sea God and Asura God was currently in that dilapidated blacksmith shop, hammering away to solidify his foundation one strike at a time.
Ning Chuan withdrew his gaze from the direction of the blacksmith shop and continued lowering his head to polish the wood in his hands.
One relied on foreknowledge and the All-Heaven Scrap Station to quietly accumulate strength; the other depended on talent and otherworldly supreme techniques to steadily grow.
Who would be stronger in the future remained unknown.
But for now, he had to stay hidden.
At noon the next day, the family gathered around the small wooden table for lunch.
It was still coarse rice with pickled vegetables, but Liu Lan, feeling sorry for her son working so hard, had specially fried an extra egg and divided it between Ning Chuan and Ning Xiaohe.
Ning Dazhuang shoveled rice into his mouth and seemed to remember something, casually saying, “When I went to the back mountain to chop wood this morning, I saw that area in the hollow.
It was a complete mess—several trees knocked down and a huge pit in the ground.
Really frightening.
Nothing like that has ever happened there before.”
Clatter.
The chopsticks in Ning Chuan’s hand nearly fell onto the table.
His heart clenched violently.
Forcing himself to steady his mind, he lowered his head and pretended to have choked on his food, coughing twice.
“Eat slowly, no one’s fighting you for it.” Liu Lan quickly poured him a bowl of water, gently patting his back, her attention drawn away.
Ning Xiaohe blinked her big eyes and asked curiously, “Dad, how big was the pit?
Was it made by a wild boar?”
“Didn’t seem like it,” Ning Dazhuang shook his head, frowning.
“That pit…
it was very neat, more like it was smashed out by something.
Really strange.
You two stay away from that part of the back mountain these next few days, understand?”
The last sentence was directed as a warning to Ning Chuan and Ning Xiaohe.
“Understood, Dad.” Ning Chuan replied softly, his fingers holding the bowl turning slightly pale, his back instantly soaked with cold sweat.
It must have been Tang Hao!
He went there!
And unleashed his thunderous rage!
That pit was definitely smashed out by the Clear Sky Hammer!
Endless retrospective fear poured over his entire body like ice water.
Thank goodness!
Thank goodness he had left immediately after testing his Soul Skill!
Thank goodness the All-Heaven Scrap Station had helped conceal his Spirit Power fluctuations!
Thank goodness he had fused with a Spirit Soul instead of a Spirit Ring, which had relatively gentle effects on his body’s transformation, preventing him from immediately revealing any clues in front of his parents!
The killing intent of a Titled Douluo was absolutely not something a twenty-fifth-level Grand Spirit Master like him could withstand, even just the residual waves!
“Brother, what’s wrong?
Your face is so pale.” Ning Xiaohe noticed Ning Chuan’s unusual state and asked quietly.
Ning Chuan forced a smile: “It’s nothing, I just choked earlier and haven’t recovered yet.”
Liu Lan touched his forehead: “No fever, right?
Have you been working too hard these past two days?
Rest this afternoon, don’t go to the shed.”
“No need, Mom, I’m fine, just choked a bit.” Ning Chuan quickly shook his head, trying to make his expression appear more natural.
He couldn’t show any abnormality, especially at this sensitive moment right after his father mentioned the strange occurrence on the back mountain.
Quickly finishing the rice in his bowl, Ning Chuan put down his chopsticks: “Dad, Mom, I’m done eating.
I’ll go to the shed first to finish planing the remaining wood.”
With that, he almost fled from the dining table, walking quickly toward the carpentry shed.
Sitting on the familiar planing bench and picking up the plane, the cool touch finally helped him calm down a little.
Danger had never truly receded.
Tang Hao was like a dormant lion, seemingly lethargic and asleep, but any slight disturbance could awaken him, bringing devastating consequences.
“I must be more careful, more cautious,” Ning Chuan repeatedly warned himself.
“Before they leave Holy Spirit Village, I absolutely cannot use any Soul Skills, nor can I leak even a trace of Spirit Power fluctuation.
For training, I’ll stick to the most basic physical exercises—no shortcuts.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Ning Chuan worked even harder, as if trying to vent his inner tension and lingering fear through endless physical labor.
Sweat poured down as he focused on each piece of wood in his hands, every push of the plane, every pull of the saw.
Not until the sun set in the west did the father and son pack up their tools, ending the day’s work.
That night, Ning Chuan still did not enter the garbage dump.
He washed up early and lay in bed, yet sleep eluded him.
Moonlight filtered through the window lattice, casting cold, pale spots on the floor.
He kept his eyes open, carefully listening to the sounds in the village.
The night was quiet, with only occasional barks of dogs and the rustle of the wind.
But whether it was his imagination or not, Ning Chuan couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath that silent night, a pair of cold, sharp eyes seemed to be silently scanning the entire village, searching for any suspicious traces.
He knew that was Tang Hao’s vigilance.
Had his performance during the day raised no suspicion?
His father had only mentioned it casually, without pressing further.
His mother and sister’s attention had been successfully diverted.
But Tang Hao…
a powerhouse of that level often possessed terrifyingly keen intuition.
Ning Chuan let out a soft sigh and turned over, facing the wall.
“It seems that before Tang San goes to Notting City, I’ll have to keep playing the part of this ‘ordinary person’ properly.”
Closing his eyes, he began silently planning in his mind.