"My name is Tang Luochuan."
"From now on," he continued softly, tightening his grip on Na'er's delicate hand, "I'm your family."
His voice was gentle, but the determination in his eyes was unshakable.
The tragedy of being frozen for ten thousand years was the last thing he wanted—whether it was his younger brother Wulin or the girl before him. If fate dared to bring such suffering into her life, then he would rewrite it with his own hands. He would protect his brother without hesitation, and just the same, the fate of the Silver Dragon King would now rest with him.
"I…"
Na'er opened her mouth, her clear violet eyes reflecting his determination. For a moment, she seemed stunned, but then her lips curved into a soft smile.
"I understand, Brother Luochuan."
Her voice was delicate, like a budding flower swaying in the breeze. She lowered her head shyly but gripped his hand back, sweetly nodding.
"Brother…"
A puzzled voice came from the side. Tang Wulin had finally caught up, and when he saw the scene before him, his round eyes blinked in confusion.
"What are you doing?"
"This is Na'er," Tang Luochuan replied calmly, glancing toward his younger brother. "From now on, she'll be part of our family."
"Family?"
Wulin tilted his head, as if struggling to digest these words. To him, the concept of "family" wasn't easy to grasp. But what startled him more was the fact that—after a short while apart—his brother had gone and brought back… a girl?
Luochuan saw Wulin's confused little face and let out a small laugh.
"Let's go home first."
Wulin scratched his cheek, still confused but obedient, and nodded. "Okay…"
The Tang family's cozy living room was filled with silence.
Na'er sat nervously by Luochuan's side, her little hands clutching the hem of her worn clothes. Across from them sat Tang Ziran and Lang Yue, their expressions complicated.
"Luochuan, you…"
It was Tang Ziran who finally broke the silence. Her voice carried both helplessness and disbelief.
"You just… brought her back like this?"
Her son was only six years old. Freshly awakened as a soul master, and he had already dragged home a little girl, introducing her as family?
Was this what people called—bringing back a child bride?!
"Na'er said she doesn't have any family left," Luochuan said slowly, his face calm but his tone steady. "So, I brought her back here."
He then recounted what had happened earlier—the gang of thugs, the way he'd stepped forward, and how he'd frightened them off.
The room fell quiet again.
This time it was Father Tang Ziran who sighed, his brows furrowing. He reached out and patted his son's shoulder seriously.
"If something like this happens again, you must make sure you aren't putting yourself in danger before helping others."
Despite his stern voice, there was an unmistakable pride shining in his eyes.
This was his son. At such a young age, Luochuan had only just become a soul master, but he already knew how to step forward, how to protect the weak. Even if aside from his talent, just this kind of heart would lead him to a bright future.
Sure, it really did look like he had brought back a child bride, but… what was wrong with that?
He ruffled his younger son's hair. "Not just Luochuan—Wulin, you must remember this lesson too."
"I understand, Dad," Wulin mumbled obediently, stepping back a half-step.
Father Ziran then turned his gaze gently toward Na'er. His voice softened.
"Little one, your name is Na'er, isn't it? Do you remember where your home is?"
Na'er blinked. Her lips trembled.
"Home… I don't know," she whispered, her small voice filled with confusion and sadness. Her bright eyes dimmed.
Lang Yue's heart swelled with pity as she saw the helpless little girl shaking her head.
"So you only know your name…" Lang Yue murmured, her face thoughtful. That would make it extremely difficult to trace her family. Even if they asked the federal authorities for help, the chances of success were tiny.
She leaned over, brushing strands of messy silver hair from Na'er's soft cheeks. "Then stay here with us for now. Whenever we find clues, we'll help you go home. Until then… let me draw you a bath, dear."
She looked at the dirt smudged across the child's delicate face, heart aching.
[The host has rescued Na'er, who has lost her memory, and brought her home. The additional family burden has triggered the Pride System.]
[How can the host be troubled by mere financial concerns?]
[Issuing a savings card containing ten million federal coins. It has been deposited directly into the system space.]
Inside his mind, the familiar system voice rang out.
"Ten… million?!"
Tang Luochuan almost lost control of his expression, though he managed to school his face quickly. Inside, he was utterly stunned.
Ten million federal coins was no small sum. His parents' combined monthly salary was only about ten thousand coins. Ten million equaled the savings of countless years.
In the original novel, when Wulin's parents left, the inheritance wasn't even close to this amount. With their true abilities, it was hard to imagine them ever earning this much.
But… how was he supposed to spend it without drawing suspicion? Taking out such a huge sum out of nowhere would cause no small storm.
Still, just thinking about it eased the burden in his heart.
Yet his mind did not linger on money for long. Another thought had already started to burn in him.
Secondary professions.
In this world, pursuing a secondary career wasn't optional—it was a mark of talent, sometimes even genius. And the most difficult and noble among them all… was forging.
His lips curved faintly. Blacksmithing.
The Mangtian Workshop wasn't far from their home. In the original story, that was where Wulin's journey as a blacksmith began—taught by Mang Tian, a Level Six Forging Master, a man who also happened to be close friends with their parents.
Even Father was a blacksmith, though his talent hadn't extended far. He'd only ever reached Level Five before settling into an ordinary job.
But Wulin… Wulin had become the strongest Divine Craftsman in history, thanks in no small part to the power carried in his blood. How could he, Tang Luochuan, possessing the Golden Dragon King's martial spirit and immense natural strength, not pursue the profession of forging?
To ignore it would be disgraceful!
His eyes flashed with determination.
"Luochuan," Father caught the look in his elder son's eyes and asked quietly, "do you still have something you want to say?"
"Dad," Luochuan replied calmly, though his gaze shone brightly, "now that my martial spirit has awakened, I want to try… becoming a blacksmith."
The word "blacksmith" rolled off his tongue with a faint smile.
Beside him, Tang Wulin suddenly lit up. His eyes widened with sparkling excitement. He clenched his fists, nodding firmly.
"Yes! I want that too!"
In his mind, he could already feel the weight of a hammer against his palm, hear the ring of metal clashing. Something inside him stirred, whispering that this was a path fated to intertwine with him for life.
Father Tang Ziran froze for a moment, his chopsticks nearly slipping from his fingers.
He remembered dinner with Old Brother Mang Tian just days ago, laughing at the thought that maybe his sons would one day take the path of a blacksmith. Never did he expect that both children would bring up forging of their own accord, and so early.
Blacksmithing, however, was no easy road. Among all secondary professions, it was the most demanding in time, energy, and spirit. Even he had quit halfway. If not for Mang Tian's persistence, where would the forging world be?
His heart wavered, but when his gaze swept back to Wulin, he paused a long moment.
"Alright," Tang Ziran finally smiled, though the lines at the corners of his eyes betrayed his complicated thoughts. "I'll take you both to see your Uncle Mang Tian. Whether you have the talent for forging isn't for me to judge—it will depend on him."
Hearing this, Wulin burst into laughter, bouncing in excitement. "Long live Dad!"
Luochuan suppressed his smile, though warmth filled his chest. He had noticed the way Father had looked at Wulin a moment longer earlier. Even when faced with his extraordinary talent, their parents always held Wulin gently at the center of their hearts.
No matter what the truth of his own abilities were, their love for Wulin was never in doubt.
And he… he would always be Wulin's elder brother. Blood or not, they would walk hand in hand.
The next day, they arrived at Mangtian's Workshop.
The ringing of metal echoed crisply through the air—ding, ding, dang, dang—each strike rhythmic and powerful.
"Brother Mangtian, are you busy?" Tang Ziran called, leading his two sons into the spacious studio.
"Almost finished with this piece," Mangtian said, not looking up immediately. His hands never stopped moving, striking the glowing metal with precision. "If there's something to say, just tell me first."
The hammer's rhythm carried raw strength, the kind of skill that could only come from decades of dedication.
Tang Ziran smiled faintly. "It's nothing urgent. I just brought Wulin and Luochuan here. They both want to become blacksmiths. I wanted you to take a look at their potential."
"Both… want to be blacksmiths?"
Mangtian's tone was distracted, but when the words fully registered, his rhythm faltered. He froze for a second, then his movements stumbled, hammers striking unevenly until he finally had to stop.
He slowly raised his head, staring at Luochuan in disbelief.
"Luochuan… the one with full innate soul power?" His voice actually trembled a little. "You want him to become a blacksmith?"
Even an iron-willed forging master like Mangtian couldn't believe what he was hearing.
The boy others would call a peerless martial arts prodigy, suited to soar in cultivation, wanted to choose—forging?