Chapter 4

It is said that he was a foundling, abandoned outside Notting City years ago. When Old Jack found him, he was nothing but skin and bones, no bigger than a rat, his breathing as faint as a gossamer thread.

Old Jack once thought Jiang Chen would not survive, but to his surprise, the boy tenaciously pulled through.

Furthermore, according to the villagers, on the very day Old Jack brought him home, the sky above the entire village was blanketed in dark clouds and roared with thunder, as if the gods themselves were enraged, terrifying many.

Thus, when Jiang Chen later practiced that evil cultivation technique and brought disaster upon many, the villagers linked his wickedness to the thunderous sky of that day, believing him to be a person forsaken by heaven, which was why even the heavens had been moved to wrath.

Jiang Chen naturally did not believe these legends. He was perfectly fine, merely a child; how could he possibly provoke the wrath of heaven?

After hanging the fish on the door, Jiang Chen turned to leave, but then remembered something of great importance.

"Grandpa Jack, when is Su Yuntao coming?"

"How many times must I tell you to be polite? Call him Lord Su Yuntao, do you understand?" Old Jack scolded.

He then added, "Lord Su Yuntao will arrive at our village the day after tomorrow. You should come and participate in the awakening ceremony then."

Jiang Chen immediately sensed something was amiss and asked suspiciously, "Grandpa, did you forget about me? If I hadn't asked today, were you not planning to tell me that the awakening ceremony is the day after tomorrow?"

Old Jack coughed a few times to mask his embarrassment. "I'm getting old, and I've become a bit forgetful."

Jiang Chen was speechless. "Alright, I'll head back now. I'll be there on time for the awakening ceremony the day after tomorrow."

"Go on, go on," Old Jack waved his hand repeatedly.

Once Jiang Chen had left, Old Jack quickly opened the door and happily took the large fish inside.

"I certainly didn't misjudge him back then; little Chen really is a good child." Jiang Chen would bring him these nutritious wild game every few days, making him feel that taking Jiang Chen in had been a very wise decision.

Having walked some distance away, Jiang Chen's ears twitched as he heard Old Jack's muttering to himself, and a faint smile appeared on his somewhat handsome young face.

Clang... Clang... Clang...

The sound of rhythmic hammering drifted over, and Jiang Chen stopped in his tracks, his gaze turning toward the edge of the village.

There stood three dilapidated adobe houses, and hanging from the roof of the center one was a wooden sign with a crude hammer painted on it.

Jiang Chen knew that was Tang San's home. It must be Tang San practicing his smithing; he knew that the slovenly blacksmith Tang Hao would never wake up before noon.

He had never dared to get close to that place. He was the only one in the village who knew Tang Hao's true identity—that he was a Titled Douluo of terrifying strength, someone who had defeated a group of Titled Douluos from the Spirit Hall just after entering that realm, and had even beaten the previous Pope until he was on the verge of death.

If Tang Hao were to think of him as a scourge just like the other villagers and crush him with a single hammer blow, that would be a truly unjust end.

Returning home, Jiang Chen ate the fish and then fell fast asleep. This was his habit; daytime was not suitable for cultivation, and aside from eating and attending to his needs, he usually spent his time in the house sleeping.

It was not until evening that he slowly woke up. After a simple dinner, he gave a light leap and landed on the roof, waiting for the night to arrive.

Finally, the setting sun sank below the mountains, and the bright moon peeked out from the horizon. Another beautiful night had descended upon the earth.

Jiang Chen began to cultivate, facing the rising moon. As his technique circulated, wisps of moonlight, invisible to the naked eye, poured down from the sky and were absorbed into his body.

His pupils turned as black as ink in an instant, and his previously trimmed nails grew rapidly until they were over an inch long—jet-black and razor-sharp at the tips.

Two small, white fangs grew out in a strange manner, protruding from his tightly closed lips, which actually added a touch of cuteness to his handsome young face.

A black mist, as if emanating from the nine nether hells, drifted from his body and swirled around him. His small frame flickered in and out of the black mist, appearing somewhat eerie and terrifying.