A young man on Blue Star had only just come of age when he woke up one day and discovered that he had crossed over into the world of the novel Douluo Continent.
He had his own opinions about the story of Douluo Continent, along with a few parts that were genuinely baffling. He had even imagined crossing into that world, siding with Spirit Hall, marrying Qian Renxue, and founding the Spirit Hall Empire. While he was at it, he could torment Tang San, give Yu Xiaogang a hard time, and claim the Soul Ring and Soul Bone of a hundred-thousand-year-old Rogue Rabbit.
But when he really crossed over, it still felt as if ten thousand alpacas were stampeding through his heart.
When people made things up and let their imaginations run wild, everyone could act like they were tough as chili peppers and garlic. But when it actually came down to facing real people, events, things, and places, who could say for certain that they would have the last laugh?
Still, he was already here. There was no going back, so all he could do was make the best of it.
But he wanted to settle in, and couldn't.
As a transmigrator, he had no distinguished background, no exceptional abilities, and no all-powerful system. He was nothing more than a newborn baby—and one without a father, with only his mother to depend on.
The only thing he could be grateful for was that he had read the original novel and watched the anime that had already aired.
But good fortune never came twice, and misfortune never came alone.
When he was three, the village where he lived was hit by a beast tide, and his mother died at the hands of Soul Beasts. He and some of the villagers survived with help from the local Spirit Hall, but the world was vast, and there was nowhere left for him to belong. Among the countless lights shining in people's homes, not one was left burning for him.
At last, he understood what it meant to stand utterly alone, with only his shadow for company.
No house, no land, both parents dead—he could only beg to survive.
Was this really a start with nothing but a bowl?
Should he find a temple and become a monk?
But as far as he could tell, there weren't any monks on Douluo Continent.
Besides, I don't even have childhood friends like Tang He and Tang Dingchen.
By now, he had used every scrap of knowledge he possessed to comfort himself.
Shun rose from the fields,
Fu Yue was recommended from among the builders,
Jiao Ge was recommended from among the fish and salt sellers,
Guan Yiwu was recommended from among the prison officers,
Sun Shuao was recommended from the seashore,
and Baili Xi was recommended from the marketplace.
And so, armed with Ah Q's philosophy of spiritual victory, he began wandering from place to place.
He ate whatever people gave him and wore whatever clothes they gave him. Some people helped him warmly, while others sneered at him coldly. He had seen meat and wine rotting behind vermilion gates, and frozen corpses by the roadside.
There was no better example of the fickleness of human nature and the capriciousness of the world.
A year passed like this.
Then, one day, Guangling Douluo, the Fifth Worship of Spirit Hall, sneaked out of the Worship Hall to have some fun. As he passed by the boy, he seemed to sense something.
"The aura of an angel."
Without another word, he took the boy back to Spirit City.
Spirit City, Worship Hall
Qian Daoliu and the other Worships were discussing Guangling Douluo's unauthorized outing when someone abruptly pushed open the Worship Hall's heavy doors—with his foot.
As the doors swung open, a face peeked inside, wearing a guilty smile.
"Guang Ling, so you finally decided to come back?" Second Worship Golden Crocodile Douluo said, looking at him.
"Second Brother, you're mistaken. Spirit Hall is my home. What could possibly be better than home?" Guang Ling replied to Golden Crocodile Douluo without batting an eye.
"Oh, right, Big Brother. When I sneaked out—ah, no, when I went out on an errand, I found a child who seems to have the aura of an angel." Guang Ling then turned to Qian Daoliu.
Guangling Douluo had spent many years in the Worship Hall, where the Angel God Statue stood. He had also known and befriended Great Enshrined Qian Daoliu, whose Martial Soul was the Six-Winged Angel, for many years. Naturally, he was familiar with the aura of an angel.
"Is that so? Where is the child now?" Qian Daoliu asked.
"Just outside the Worship Hall. Flame Hawk is watching him."
Qian Daoliu was puzzled. Members of the Angel Clan rarely ventured out, and whenever they did, they informed him. Yet, none had gone out recently.
(Personal opinion: The Angel Clan couldn't possibly consist of just one line of descendants. There had to be other members. Otherwise, even with great individual strength, they couldn't have ruled Spirit Hall so firmly for all these years.)
(For example, Sword Douluo Chen Xin, a Titled Douluo of rank ninety-six, wielded the Seven Kill Sword, whose quality was no worse than that of the Clear Sky Hammer. But his Martial Soul had been passed down through a single line, so he had never been able to establish a sect. Even though he was a pillar of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, Ning Fengzhi was still the one who ran it.)
"Then bring him in," Qian Daoliu said.
But the child outside was utterly stunned. Had he really been brought to Spirit City? The person who had brought him here looked like a child who hadn't grown up, yet kept calling himself "this old man." He had to be Guangling Douluo, the Fifth Worship of Spirit Hall.
The woman beside him looked like she must be Flame Hawk Douluo, the disciple of Golden Crocodile Douluo, the Second Worship of Spirit Hall.
Before he could recover from his shock at arriving in Spirit City, Great Enshrined Qian Daoliu summoned them from inside the Worship Hall.
Hearing the Great Enshrined's order, Flame Hawk Douluo didn't dare delay. She immediately led him into the Worship Hall.
When Qian Daoliu saw the boy, his eyes widened. He could sense a strong angelic aura from him. Compared with Guangling Douluo, Qian Daoliu was naturally far more sensitive to the aura of angels. The boy even had the golden hair characteristic of the Angel Clan. What was more, he felt a sense of kinship in the boy's blood.
"Don't be afraid, child. How old are you?"
"Four."
"What's your name?"
"Yu."
"What's your surname?"
"I don't have one."
"No surname?"
"That's right. My mother only ever called me by my given name, and she never told me my surname."
"I see. Where's your home?"
"Xiao Zhang Village, Wolong Ridge, Shuangxiong Town, Tianyun City."
"Do you have any other family?"
"No."
Qian Daoliu nodded slightly, then said, "Flame Hawk, take him away and see that he gets some rest."
After Flame Hawk Douluo took the child away, Qian Daoliu couldn't make sense of the kinship he had felt in the boy's blood. He had only ever felt that sort of affinity in Qian Xunji and Qian Renxue.
The aura of an angel. A kinship in his blood.
And there was the way the boy looked at people—it was exactly like the way Qian Daoliu and his son, Qian Xunji, looked at them.
At the thought of this, even Qian Daoliu, whose heart was usually as still as water, couldn't suppress the stirring in his chest.
He immediately ordered, "Someone, bring me my son's records as the Pope. Demon Bear, Ghost Leopard, investigate that child's background. Don't miss a single detail."
Before you continue