The congratulations and commotion in the delivery room lasted for nearly half an hour. The Titled Douluos had all gotten their fill of the newborn, and only after leaving behind the generous gifts they had prepared did they reluctantly file out, driven away by Gui Mei's warning glare that they would wake the baby if they kept making a racket.
Once the mansion had settled into silence again, Yue Guan leaned against the soft pillow and watched Gui Mei clumsily tuck the swaddling around Gui Mengguan. His eyes were so tender they seemed ready to drip with affection.
"Take it slow. Don't wake him," Yue Guan chided softly, though there wasn't a trace of reproach in his voice. "I never thought the two of us would really have a day like this."
Gui Mei paused, then bowed his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Yue Guan's forehead. His voice was low and tender. "We have the old ancestor to thank, and you, too. Yueyue, in this life, with you and Mengguan, I have everything I need."
"It was worth it!"
He was nearly sixty, yet he had never felt as secure as he did right then. The days when he had lived by the edge of a blade, shunned by everyone, had long since faded into the past. Now, with his wife and child by his side and Spirit Hall at peace, he couldn't imagine a better ending.
Listening to his parents' tender exchange from inside the swaddling, little Gui Mengguan stiffened. His mind was still in turmoil, reeling with disbelief.
No matter how absurd his identity was, he could only accept reality.
But from beginning to end, he had thought he was the only transmigrator in this wildly altered Douluo World.
After all, in his understanding, transmigration was a one-in-ten-thousand stroke of fortune. How could it be as common as dirt, happening everywhere? He had secretly resolved to make the best of things, cling to his parents' Spirit Hall, and use his knowledge of the original plot to avoid Spirit Hall's original tragedy of annihilation. If he could live peacefully as a top-tier second-generation heir, his life would be complete.
He had no idea that in every corner of the continent, there were more than a hundred "visitors from beyond the heavens" just like him, all thinking the same thing and believing they alone held the reins of the plot.
Even if this one was secondhand, he'd come here to pick up the scraps.
Meanwhile, on Spirit City's main street, the Titled Douluos who had just left the Chrysanthemum-Moon Mansion were still talking animatedly.
Guang Ling Douluo bounced along at the front, playing with the Glazed Bow in his hands, his face alight with excitement. "Who would've thought? Yue Guan turned into a woman, sure, but then he even gave birth to such a handsome son! The child's so pretty. Once he grows up, he'll absolutely charm half the young women in Spirit City!"
Falling Devil Douluo stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. "Gui Mei's usually as cold as a ghost coming to claim your life, but today he was grinning like an idiot. A sight you see once in a century. The Polar Static Domain was already unbeatable, and now both of them have advanced thanks to the Immortal Ganoderma—and they've got a child, too. Spirit Hall's foundation has grown even stronger."
Qianjun Douluo nodded, his voice turning grave. "But now that the old ancestor has fallen, Tang San is staying in Spirit Hall, and the Chrysanthemum-and-Ghost pair have a child—these three things have happened one after another. Spirit Hall may look glorious, but there's no shortage of hidden turmoil."
At that, the smiles on everyone's faces gradually faded.
Golden Crocodile Douluo let out a long sigh. His aged voice carried a heavy note. "The Clear Sky Sect still hasn't made its position clear, Tang Hao is still on the run, the Flame Will Dynasty keeps shouting about wiping out the Soul Beast heretics, and the two great empires are secretly expanding their armies. The surface looks calm, but beneath it, undercurrents are surging."
"When the old ancestor was here, he was the anchor that kept everything steady. Now that he's fallen, we old bones have to hold the line. We can't let a single thing go wrong in Spirit Hall."
Everyone fell silent, their expressions solemn.
The old ancestor's most important final instruction had been that, after he was gone, the whole continent would enter troubled times, and they should be ready.
The undercurrents beneath today's placid surface would grow even more turbulent.
Walking at the back of the group, Qian Xunji gazed toward the Angel Temple, his eyes dark. A complicated look flickered in them. He was both Spirit Hall's young lord and a descendant of Qian Chongguang, and the burden on his shoulders was heavier than anyone else's.
He vaguely remembered how he had nearly been tempted by the Evil God into carrying out the plan to "make two gods with one shot." If the old ancestor hadn't slapped him awake and cursed him for raising a ghost in his own home, he might have become a sinner against Spirit Hall—or even the whole continent.
"The Adjudicator Elder is now in charge of the Adjudication Department. He can keep things under control," Qian Xunji said quietly. "We'll raise Tang San according to the old ancestor's instructions. Mengguan is one of our younger generation. As for the two great empires, the Clear Sky Sect, and the Flame Will Dynasty... we'll face every storm in turn."
"The old ancestor said that every unexpected turn was part of the plan."
At those words, everyone felt inexplicably steadier. Even if they couldn't see what lay ahead, as long as they followed the path Qian Chongguang had left behind, Spirit Hall wouldn't fall.
Although the Titled Douluos present still had their reservations, they all bowed in unison and answered, "Yes."
East of Spirit Hall's Angel Temple stood one of the highest residences in all of Spirit City.
The lattice window of a room in a certain loft faced east. Every day, the first rays of dawn fell without fail on the soft couch by the window. Even the window paper had been made from Ice Silkworm Silk, specially specified in Qian Chongguang's final instructions. It filtered out the sun's fierce heat while preserving the purest morning light, making it the perfect place to cultivate eye techniques.
This was where Tang San grew up until the age of three.
From the first day he opened his eyes in the swaddling, he had been much calmer than ordinary children. While other babies cried for milk, he could already lie quietly, feeling the faint, innate current flowing endlessly through his body. As soon as he learned to toddle, he began climbing to the window every day before dawn, sitting in silent concentration as the eastern sky grew pale, as if he instinctively knew how to resonate with the energy of heaven and earth.
It wasn't until he turned three that the hazy techniques in his mind finally became clear and complete.
That was only natural. The brain was still developing before the age of three.
Even with the wisdom and memories of his past life, he had to recover them gradually.
The dawn sky was still veiled in gray-blue mist when Tang San, freshly turned three, sat upright on the soft couch with his legs crossed.
His small body sat ramrod straight, his eyes half-closed. Following the route that arose naturally in his mind, he slowly circulated the Mysterious Heaven Skill. Threads of heaven-and-earth Soul Power entered his meridians with each breath, flowing smoothly through a full cycle before settling in his dantian.
Though his Martial Soul Awakening was still three years away, at age six, his Soul Power had already quietly crept close to the threshold of a Soul Scholar.
Only when the first ray of sunlight rose above the horizon, filling the lattice window with golden-red light, did he slowly open his eyes. His dark pupils held none of a child's bewilderment, only a calm clarity far beyond his years. He fixed his gaze on the rising sun, his eyelashes perfectly still, while the basic teachings of the Purple Demon Eye flowed through his mind, sharpening his vision day after day.
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