Chapter 6: Tang Hao
“Wow, nice craftsmanship…”
Ling Mo bustled about and finally finished stewing his mushroom meat porridge. The aroma was overwhelming, even waking the drunkard sleeping inside.
Tang San was dumbfounded. He never imagined a simple porridge could be made so elaborately! Cooking skills had so many intricacies.
“This is nothing… mainly the materials are lacking. Otherwise, today I’d show you what a top-tier chef is like…”
When it came to cooking, Ling Mo was absolutely an expert in this area. In his previous life, he was proficient in eating, drinking, and playing, and he had delved deeply into food.
“A full big pot! Alright, time to eat…”
He lifted the pot, and the aroma hit instantly. The fresh pork porridge was ready, and even Tang Hao was drawn out by the inexplicable fragrance, stumbling out from inside.
“Daddy…”
Oh ho, daddy? What a humble name. So… daddy, come drink porridge!
Noticing the movement behind, Tang San turned and saw Tang Hao had somehow already sat at the table.
He looked like he was waiting to eat! No wonder—Tang San had served him at home for so many years, and he was used to meals served to his mouth and clothes handed to him, too lazy to move.
“What a lazy bum!”
Ling Mo couldn’t help rolling his eyes, but what intrigued him was that Tang Hao showed no reaction to his arrival.
His identity was already sensitive, and suddenly a stranger barged into the home—shouldn’t he be on guard?
“Alright! Take this bowl to your daddy. This one’s yours. This pot is mine, haha…”
Ling Mo directly ladled two bowls of porridge, handed one to Tang San, then eyed the full pot left and revealed an evil smile.
“Good grief! Today I’ll wipe you all out…”
Ling Mo hadn’t tasted this delicacy in a long time. He was a representative of laziness too!
Usually in the village, if he could mooch food, he absolutely wouldn’t cook himself. He ate when he could, skipped when he couldn’t, living quite freely, so he hadn’t had this treat in ages and was dying for it.
Anyway, he lived alone, so eating and drinking were casual affairs, unlike Tang San who had to care for his dad.
With eager excitement, Ling Mo was about to dive into the pot for the rest when Tang Hao suddenly appeared beside him and yanked him back.
“What are you doing? That’s mine…”
Damn it, in front of food, Ling Mo didn’t care who you were—even if it was the infamous Haotian Douluo opposite him.
Ignoring Ling Mo’s struggles, Tang Hao grabbed him with one hand and drank the porridge from the pot spoonful by spoonful, making Ling Mo drool uncontrollably.
This guy—how long had it been since he ate meat? No wonder; all the money from his blacksmithing went to buying wine, leaving no spare cash for meat.
Mainly, Ling Mo’s porridge was too delicious—even Tang San couldn’t stop praising it.
The porridge in the pot slowly dwindled until only a little remained, and then Tang Hao was satisfied.
“Damn, my porridge…”
Ling Mo now knew what robbery was like; the pot was nearly empty. He scraped hard and got just one bowl.
This amount would have been acceptable before, but after his Martial Soul Awakening, his appetite had grown huge. How could this fill him up?
“Kid! You’re pretty good. The porridge was delicious…”
Tang Hao replied indifferently, released Ling Mo, and went straight back to his room, flashing Ling Mo a meaningful smile as he left.
“Hm? What a weird smile. Did this old drunk notice something?”
Ling Mo instantly sobered up, gave a meaningful glance back, then grudgingly carried the last bowl to the side.
The Ling Mo who once dominated Rice Fragrance Village with swindling and deception, robbery and theft, had finally tripped up in Holy Soul Village.
This left him unconvinced. He was always the one scamming others—when was it others’ turn to scam him?
Helplessly carrying the porridge to the table, he saw Tang San’s bowl still had a full bowl, while his own had so little. Ling Mo instantly fumed.
“Fine! You two old guys teaming up to bully me—I can’t take it anymore…”
The more he thought, the more frustrated Ling Mo felt. He didn’t dare provoke Tang Hao, so he could only settle scores with his son.
Poised to strike, acting natural, as soon as he reached the table, Ling Mo made his move. “Hand it over…”
Unbeknownst to him, the moment he reached out, Tang San reacted, grabbing the bowl before Ling Mo’s hand even touched it.
“Heh, dream on! This is what you gave me—now you want it back? No way…”
Tang San looked like he’d seen through the trick all along, amused yet annoyed as he eyed Ling Mo.
What an interesting guy. He presented himself with a mature and steady disposition, yet kept pulling these childish pranks.
Tang San admired Ling Mo’s carefree attitude—unworried, untroubled, eat his fill and let the family starve! Do whatever, no need to consider consequences.
“Tch, I, Ling Mo, dominated Rice Fragrance Village for years, yet today I tripped in this little Holy Soul Village! Tragic, lamentable…”
Hearing Ling Mo sound so downcast, Tang San thought he was really angry. He shouldn’t be such a petty person, though.
“How about… this bowl for you?”
Tang San probed tentatively. Little did he know, the words had barely left his mouth when Ling Mo struck.
“Scoop behind the back! Haha, you fell for it…”
Amid Tang San’s stunned expression, the bowl from his hand was now in Ling Mo’s, leaving him disheveled in the wind.
“Damn, you tricked me!”
“Heh, lesson for today—let you know how sinister the human heart can be…”
Finally in hand, Ling Mo wolfed it down in an instant. Even if Tang San wanted it back, it was impossible now—everything happened too fast.
After the simple play, Ling Mo finally built a solid friendship with Tang San. This was the first step in dominating Douluo.
Why didn’t Ling Mo just board Spirit Hall’s pirate ship directly? What are you thinking? You think Spirit Hall is something you can join whenever you want?
Even if you got in, how would you make a name for yourself? Because you’re handsome?
If the world had things that easy, there wouldn’t be so many poor devils…
After staying at Tang San’s house for a day, watching them blacksmith in the afternoon, Ling Mo suddenly had an idea.
“Five-Colored Divine Light can steal Martial Souls, but what’s the limit? If I steal a Titled Douluo’s Martial Soul and Soul Skills, can I use them?”
This was a crucial question. Ling Mo had been mulling a guess, but without expert guidance, his knowledge of Martial Souls was only superficial.
No sooner said than done—Ling Mo activated his Martial Soul and secretly used it behind the father-son duo. With Dual Pupils open, he targeted Tang Hao, but a cold gleam instantly struck.
It blasted him flying out. Tang San looked over in shock, baffled by Ling Mo’s actions, while even Tang Hao was dumbfounded.
“Did this kid take the wrong medicine? Crashing into himself? Is it because of that pot of porridge from morning?”
Tang Hao said in a low voice, unaware Ling Mo had just used Five-Colored Divine Light on him.
From the massive impact, Ling Mo was flung out of the house. He struggled up from the ground, face deathly pale.
“Damn, a Titled Douluo’s power is so overwhelming. Just that instant of contact nearly got me killed…”
Five-Colored Divine Light could steal Martial Souls, sure, but if the level gap was too vast, Ling Mo’s body couldn’t withstand the power’s impact.
Still, he confirmed one thing: even a Titled Douluo couldn’t detect the theft. Ling Mo just couldn’t handle the impact, so this attempt failed.
“Xiao Mo, what happened?”
Tang San rushed out concerned. Deep down, he’d already accepted Ling Mo as a friend, so he was very worried.
“I’m fine! Drank too much fake booze, head’s a bit dizzy…”
Ling Mo waved it off carelessly, signaling Tang San not to worry.
Tang Hao paused. “Does drinking fake booze cause this kind of mental short-circuit?”
“…”
Ling Mo was speechless. He’d wanted to sneak Tang Hao’s Martial Soul for fun and test his guess, but couldn’t withstand that power at all.
