The Cub Opens Its Eyes

Opening his eyes and looking at the familiar log beams and thatched roof, the young Ling Yi furrowed his brow slightly, wearing an expression of deep concern.

The sound of laundry being washed had ceased beside his ears. Ling Yi knew that his mother had gone next door to help her brother and sister-in-law—Ling Yi's uncle and aunt—with their household chores.

Though she was called his aunt, she could also be considered Ling Yi's paternal aunt, the elder sister of his father, Ling Xiaoshan.

Zhang Dahe had called Ling Changqing "Uncle Changqing" since childhood. After marrying his daughter, his respect had only grown, though he had kept the childhood form of address without changing it.

The relationship between the Ling Family and the Zhang family was both complicated and simple.

The Ling Family's eldest daughter, Ling He, had married the Zhang family's eldest son, Zhang Dahe, three years ago. Then, a year ago, the Zhang family's youngest daughter, Zhang Xiaoyu, married the Ling Family's youngest son, Ling Xiaoshan.

To use a term from the rural villages of Ling Yi's previous life, it was a "marriage exchange."

The villagers were poor and could not afford much in bride price or dowry. When their grown children needed to marry, sometimes this was the only way to form a union.

The Ling Family and the Zhang family had both carried on this way for generations.

Of course, it was not always between the Ling and Zhang families.

There were seven or eight villages nearby, and all of them had relatives from the Ling Family. As for the Zhang family, Zhang Dahe's grandfather's generation had moved here from another village over two hundred li away.

From the perspective of bloodlines, although the Zhang family had settled here for three generations and possessed no surplus wealth, their children were prized catches throughout Ten Miles and Eight Villages.

It was only because Zhang Dahe and his siblings had grown up alongside Ling Xiaoshan and his sister and shared a close bond that the Ling Family had managed to gain such an advantage.

Not to mention anything else, in the nearby villages, ninety percent of the awakened martial souls were worthless flowers, grasses, and vines like "Blue Silver Grass," "Boston ivy," and "Morning Glory."

Yet Zhang Dahe, his grandfather, and his father all possessed a "Hoe" martial soul!

Though they had no soul power, they were more than twice as efficient as ordinary people when tilling fields!

Alright, none of that was the point.

The point was that this was a world with "martial souls"!

Martial souls— Ling Yi turned his head toward the shelf beside his bed.

There sat an Earthenware Bowl riddled with chips. Inside it was a pale blue blade of grass. Perhaps because it had yet to adapt to its new surroundings, its leaves drooped limply.

After learning terms such as martial souls, Blue Silver Grass, and Douluo Continent from his parents' conversation last night, Ling Yi had obtained it from Ling Xiaoshan in his own way.

As for what kind of way...

The previous night, during dinner.

"I wonder if Little Treasure will inherit your Zhang family's 'Hoe' martial soul," Ling Xiaoshan said with a hopeful expression.

A trace of sadness flashed through Zhang Xiaoyu's eyes, but she softly replied, "He should. Although Mother and I both have Blue Silver Grass martial souls, from Grandfather to my father, Second Uncle, and my eldest brother, all of them have Hoe martial souls. It seems that as long as they're male, they should all have it..."

"Ah—" Ling Xiaoshan sighed and gently shook his head. "For about seven or eight generations in our Ling Family, everyone has awakened Blue Silver Grass martial souls. Only Great-Grandfather's generation had someone awaken a Morning Glory martial soul, and that was still the worst among Waste Martial Souls..."

"In all the villages within dozens of li, only two people with Innate Soul Power have appeared in the past ten-odd years. Neither of them has returned since leaving. I wonder what the other parts of Douluo Continent are like..."

Hearing this, even without any other information channels or evidence to support it, Ling Yi was more than ninety-nine percent certain:

He had transmigrated into the world of Douluo Continent!

As for that remaining one percent...

Perhaps this was some enormous real-world studio, like The Truman Show?

First, judging by the family conditions of my parents and the people around us, yet the fact that they can still awaken martial souls, the Timeline is most likely around Douluo I. At the very least, it's definitely before Douluo II...

While listening to his parents' conversation, Ling Yi pondered inwardly:

Then, both my parents have Blue Silver Grass martial souls?

Besides that, there's a possibility for Mother's bloodline to awaken a Hoe martial soul?

Even a Sickle martial soul would be better...

From the looks of it, there's a ninety percent chance that my future martial soul will be the Ling Family's inherited Blue Silver Grass martial soul.

At that thought, Ling Yi could not help frowning. Most critically, not a single person on my father's side has possessed Innate Soul Power for seven or eight generations. On my mother's side, at least starting from Grandfather Zhang Qiang's father—the old Zhang family patriarch who moved here—not one person has awakened Innate Soul Power either...

So my starting conditions are practically nothing?

Family background: impoverished!

Martial soul: a genuine Waste Martial Soul, Blue Silver Grass!

Soul power: ninety-nine percent chance of being zero!

Then where is the cheat that transmigrators usually get?

System? Storage space? Inheritance? An old grandpa?...

After calling out in his heart for a while, Ling Yi ended up, unsurprisingly, with nothing.

Just then, his parents' conversation about household matters came to an end. Feeling the hunger in his stomach, Ling Yi skillfully began to cry out.

While skillfully suckling down his dinner, Ling Yi kept his gaze fixed on Ling Xiaoshan, who stood nearby staring intently at the mother and son.

Zhang Xiaoyu grew a little embarrassed under Ling Xiaoshan's gaze and was about to tell him to stop staring when she saw Ling Yi stretch a hand toward Ling Xiaoshan, his five chubby pink fingers opening and closing in a gesture.

Perhaps mother and son were connected at heart. Following Ling Yi's gaze, Zhang Xiaoyu noticed the Blue Silver Grass leaf dangling from Ling Xiaoshan's mouth. She raised a hand to stroke Ling Yi's sparsely haired little head and softly asked, "Little Treasure, do you want Daddy's Blue Silver Grass?"

Hearing that, Ling Yi eagerly sucked twice, his big round eyes blinking as his brows and eyes curved into a smile.

"Hey!" Ling Xiaoshan was somewhat astonished, then said happily, "My Little Treasure can actually understand me. What a smart little darling!"

With that, he immediately took the blade of Blue Silver Grass, which had been chewed through by a third, from his mouth and handed it to Ling Yi.

Ling Yi seemed even happier. He sucked hard while his tiny hand grabbed the pale blue blade of grass and gently waved it around.

At the sight, both Ling Xiaoshan and Zhang Xiaoyu were smiling from ear to ear.

A baby's appetite was limited. In that short time, Ling Yi's little belly had already filled up, and he began focusing on playing with the blade of grass.

"Accidentally," he seemed to notice the end of the grass blade that Ling Xiaoshan had chewed. Ling Yi's little mouth suddenly puckered, and he promptly shut his eyes and began to cry.

This crying threw Ling Xiaoshan and Zhang Xiaoyu into a panic.

They first untied his swaddling clothes and checked his diaper. Seeing that it was still dry, Zhang Xiaoyu tried to put her breast into Ling Yi's mouth again. But Ling Yi kept his lips tightly closed in refusal, merely waving the little hand clutching the blade of grass before the young couple.

Seeing this, Ling Xiaoshan suddenly understood and cried out, "I know—!"

Without even having time to explain, he turned and ran out the door without looking back.

Zhang Xiaoyu had just raised her hand, about to call him back, when Ling Yi in her arms miraculously stopped crying.

Zhang Xiaoyu: "..."

For a moment, mother and son—one pair of large eyes and one pair of small ones—looked at each other in silent understanding.

Before long, Ling Xiaoshan came hurrying back, holding something in his hands.

And so, beside the family of three's bed, there was now a simple wooden stand. On it sat a shabby Earthenware Bowl planted with Blue Silver Grass.