The Xuantian Treasure Records records only six martial arts, namely: the internal skill of Xuantian Gong, the hand training method of Xuan Yu Shou, the eye training method of Zi Ji Mo Tou, the grappling method of Kong He Zu Long, the light body method of Gui Ying Mi Zong, and the hidden weapon usage method, An Qi Bai Jie.

  The first five are basic, without a solid foundation, how can you play out the essence of Tangmen hidden weapons?

  At the age of one, he began practicing Xuan Tian Gong. Now Tang San is almost six years old and still laying his foundation.

  Tang San's home was located on the west side of Holy Spirit Village, at the village head. The three earth houses were probably the most simple in the entire village. On top of the main house, there was a wooden sign with a diameter of about one meter, painted with a simple hammer. In this world, the hammer had the widest representative meaning, referring to blacksmiths.

  That's right, Tang San's father, Tang Hao, was a blacksmith, the only blacksmith in the village.

  In this world, blacksmiths can be said to be one of the most humble professions, because for some special reason, the top-level weapons in this world are not forged by blacksmiths.

  However, as the only blacksmith in this village, Tang San's family shouldn't have been so poor, but that meager income mostly...

  As soon as he entered the house, Tang San already smelled the fragrance of rice, which was not made by Tang Hao for him, but rather what he had made for Tang Hao.

  Starting from the age of four, when Tang San's height was still not enough to reach the stove, cooking had already become his daily task. Even if he had to stand on a stool to reach the top of the stove.

  It wasn't Tang Hao who asked him to do so, but because if he didn't, Tang San would almost never have a full meal.

  Arriving at the stove, she skillfully stepped onto the wooden stool, lifted the lid of the large iron pot, and a nose-piercing rice fragrance wafted out, the porridge inside had already been cooked to perfection.

  Every day before going up the mountain, Tang San would put rice in the pot and prepare firewood. When he returned, the porridge was also cooked.

  He carefully picked up two bowls from beside the stove, both of which had more than ten cracks in them. He filled the two bowls with porridge and placed them on the table behind him. The grains of rice in the porridge could almost be counted at a glance, and for Tang San, who was still growing, this amount of nutrition was clearly insufficient, which was also why his body was so slender.

  "Dad, dinner's ready." Tang San called out.

  After a while, the door curtain of the inner room was lifted, and a tall figure walked out with some staggering steps.

  He was a middle-aged man who looked about fifty years old, but his figure was extremely tall and majestic, only his dress was not commendable.

  A tattered robe hung on his body, without even a patch on it, revealing the dark copper-colored skin underneath. His originally decent face was covered with a layer of waxen yellow, and he had a sleepy, dazed look in his eyes. His hair was messy like a bird's nest, and his beard hadn't been trimmed for who knows how many days. His gaze was dull and hazy, and despite having passed out for the night, the pungent smell of alcohol on him still made Tang San wrinkle his brow.

  This is Tang Hao, Tang San's father in this world.

  From young to old, Tang San never knew what paternal love was. Tang Hao had always been neglectful of him. At the beginning, he would still cook some rice for him to eat, but as time passed, when Tang San started cooking on his own initiative, Tang Hao became even more indifferent. The family was so poor that they didn't even have a decent table and chairs, and eating was also a problem. The main reason was that Tang Hao spent the meager income from his blacksmith work on drinking wine.

  And Tang San, who was still a big kid, his father was generally around thirty years old, and those who got married early were not even thirty yet. But Tang Hao looked much older than them, as if he were Tang San's grandfather.

  As for Tang Hao's attitude, Tang San had never held any resentment. In his previous life, he was an orphan; in this life, although Tang Hao treated him poorly, at least he had a family member. For Tang San, this was already enough to make him very satisfied. At the very least, there was someone here that he could call "Dad".

  Tang Hao grabbed the bowl from the table and, without fear of scalding, gulped down the porridge in big mouthfuls, his dark yellow complexion finally gaining a bit of luster.

  "Dad, slow down and drink some more." Tang San took the bowl from his father's hand and refilled it with porridge. He also picked up his own bowl of porridge and started drinking.

  At the time of Tangmen, he had never left there and had little contact with things outside. Originally like a blank sheet of paper, coming to this world and becoming a child again, there was nothing that couldn't be accepted.

  In no time, seven or eight tenths of the porridge had entered Tang Hao's stomach. He let out a long sigh and placed the bowl on the table. His drooping eyelids opened a few more, looking towards Tang San.

  "You take care of work first, I'll do it this afternoon. I'm going to sleep for a while."

  Tang Huo's daily routine was very regular. In the morning, he would sleep. In the afternoon, he would forge some farm tools to earn a living. At night, he would drink wine.

  "Alright, Dad." Tang San nodded.

  Tang Hao stood up and drank a lot of porridge. His body finally stopped shaking and he walked towards the inner room.

  "Dad." Tang San suddenly called out.

  Tang Hao stopped in his tracks and turned his head towards him, his eyebrows furrowed with a few more hints of impatience.

  "Can I use this piece of iron?" Tang San pointed to a corner where there was a block of raw iron with a faint dark glow. In his previous life, he was the most outstanding outer sect disciple of the Tang Sect, extremely familiar with manufacturing all sorts of hidden weapons. Of course, back then, various materials were all provided by the Tang Sect. After arriving in this world, although he had also cultivated for several years, his strength was still far from sufficient. At the same time, he had never thought of putting down his most skilled hidden weapon crafting. Now, he had already begun trying to forge some hidden weapons, but materials had become a big problem.

  Tang Hao forged farm tools with metal sent by villagers, which were mostly impure iron and difficult to make into good hidden weapons. The piece of raw iron Tang San pointed to was just delivered yesterday, and what surprised him was that this iron ore contained a certain amount of iron mother, making it perfect for forging hidden weapons.

  Tang Hao's gaze shifted to the pig iron, "Huh? Is there iron essence in this?" He walked over, lowered his head to take a look, then turned back to Tang San, "Do you want to be an ironsmith in the future?"