Where the Dream Began

Six years later.

Holy Soul Village, in the southwest of the Heaven Dou Empire on the Douluo Continent.

Dawn had barely broken, and a faint fish-belly white was already rising in the distant eastern sky.

Vast stretches of farmland covered the area, yielding abundant grain and vegetables. The village owed its name to a legend: a hundred years ago, a Soul Master of the Soul Saint rank had emerged from this little village, earning it the name Holy Soul Village.

On a small hill barely a hundred meters high beside Holy Soul Village, a thin little figure sat cross-legged, cultivating. He looked only five or six years old, with healthy, wheat-colored skin.

The boy stared fixedly at the gradually brightening fish-belly white in the east, slowly drawing air through his nose and gently releasing it through his mouth, forming an exquisite cycle.

At the same time, a faint trace of purple qi flickered in his eyes.

Only when the fish-belly white had been completely replaced by the morning light did he slowly close his eyes.

This boy was named Tang San, nicknamed Buddha Tang. His motto was "You have already chosen the path to death," and ordinary people dared not provoke him.

Tang San said dejectedly, "Why can't my Mysterious Heaven Skill break through the bottleneck of the first level? Even my Purple Demon Eye, which relies on Purple Qi Comes from the East and can only be cultivated at dawn, keeps improving. Could this world be different from my original world?"

The next moment, Tang San heard faint footsteps. His tightly shut eyes snapped open, and a trace of killing intent utterly at odds with his age surfaced on his five- or six-year-old face.

"Who's there?" Tang San demanded coldly, looking down the slope.

A little boy about Tang San's age, with a rather delicate, youthful face, was walking toward him. A blade of blue silver grass, which grew everywhere in the village, hung from his mouth, and he chewed it with relish.

He was Xiao Yan, who had transmigrated to the Douluo Continent after sealing Hun Tiandi.

Unfortunately, Xiao Yan seemed to have lost part of his memories. He could not remember his experiences on the Dou Qi Continent in his previous life and only vaguely remembered being someone from Blue Star.

In other words, Xiao Yan now possessed only the memories from before his transmigration to the Dou Qi Continent. For the time being, he had forgotten everything he had experienced there.

Word on the street was that it was better to be Xiao Yan's lackey than Tang San's brother.

Why was that?

Because when it came to adventuring, you could simply lie back and coast along with Xiao Yan. Your life would never be in danger anyway.

You could lie down with Tang San too, except you would be the kind that turned into a loot crate the moment you hit the ground. In the end, Buddha Tang would even loot your corpse while he was at it.

If you didn't believe it, just look at that Hundred-Thousand-Year Soft Bone Rabbit.

As for rescuing people, Xiao Yan, the master of perfect timing, always arrived a step ahead of the enemy's blade, no matter what relationship he had with you. Afterward, he even gave you pills to cover your medical expenses.

God King Tang, the master of looting corpses, always arrived a step behind the enemy's blade. Only when you were completely beyond saving would he finally stroll onto the scene, then tearfully loot your corpse.

If you didn't believe it, just look at the Titan Giant Ape and the Sky Azure Bull Python.

When it came to gratitude, after taking Jia Nan Academy's Heavenly Flame, Xiao Yan at least found another one for them in the end. By contrast, God King Tang, Buddha Tang, had only been allowed to take a few immortal herbs from Dugu Bo's Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well, yet it ultimately became the Tang family's private property.

As for forms of address, Xiao Yan called Hai Bodong Elder Hai when he was a Da Dou Shi, and still called him Elder Hai after becoming a Dou Di. Tang San, on the other hand, called Dai Mubai Boss Dai early on, then Dai Mubai later. After becoming a god, he even bullied Dai Mubai's descendant Huo Yuhao right in front of him.

The two made a stark, unmistakable contrast.

The Endless Fire Domain had Yao Lao; the Divine Realm had no sign of Yu Xiaogang.

Now that Xiao Yan had transmigrated to the Douluo Continent and become Tang San's biological brother, where would the gears of fate take them?

"Little San, it's time to go back and cook," Xiao Yan said mildly.

Tang San looked up at the sky and murmured, "It is time to head back. Dad should be getting up soon. I need to make him some porridge."

Yet in that brief instant just now, Xiao Yan had clearly sensed the wariness his younger twin brother had displayed. Hidden within that wariness was even a faint trace of killing intent.

It made Xiao Yan frown imperceptibly.

Ever since they were little, Xiao Yan had noticed that his younger brother was different. Tang San was usually quiet and reluctant to get close to others, and liked forging little hidden weapons whenever he had nothing to do. His mentality was nothing like a young child's; he seemed more like a transmigrator, just like Xiao Yan. But Xiao Yan had seen at a glance that Tang San was not from Earth.

The brothers spent their days together, and Xiao Yan had discovered that Tang San was not only extremely feudal in his thinking but also suffered from something of a persecution complex. At the slightest provocation, he would say something about choosing the path to death.

He rather resembled an assassin from the martial world in the wuxia novels Xiao Yan had read in his previous life.

Xiao Yan and Tang San's home stood on the western side of Holy Soul Village. Its three mud-brick rooms could be called the shabbiest in the village, with an exceedingly crude hammer painted right in the center.

Here, a hammer most commonly represented a blacksmith.

After entering the house, Tang San went to the stove with practiced ease, stepped onto a wooden stool, and lifted the lid of the large iron pot.

Starting at the age of four, when Xiao Yan and Tang San were still too short to reach the stove, the brothers had been forced to cook for their father, Tang Hao.

Throughout his childhood, Xiao Yan had never known what a father's love was. Tang Hao paid neither him nor Tang San any attention, and for a time, they had not even had enough to eat.

Fortunately, the village chief, Old Jack, helped them out. In addition, Xiao Yan and Tang San were both adults whose souls had transmigrated, giving them a basic understanding of the world. Only thanks to that had the brothers avoided starving to death.

Their home did not even have a decent table or chairs, and feeding the father and his two sons was a problem in itself. Yet even under these circumstances, Tang Hao still spent his meager earnings on alcohol.

In Battle Through the Heavens, Xiao Yan had initially refused to accept Xiao Zhan as his father. Only Xiao Zhan's years of care-and his love that increased rather than diminished even after Xiao Yan lost all his dou qi-had made Xiao Yan acknowledge him as his father.

With Tang Hao behaving as he did now, Xiao Yan would never acknowledge him as his father.

After all, Xiao Yan had retained his memories from before transmigrating into Battle Through the Heavens. He was an adult who had been tempered by modern society.

Although he did not accept Tang Hao as his father in his heart, people were iron and food was steel; the brothers still had to eat. Forced by the need to survive, Xiao Yan joined Tang San every day in putting rice into the pot, preparing the firewood, and cooking porridge.

If not for his young age and his unfamiliarity with the people and place, someone with Xiao Yan's temperament would have severed ties with this drunken father, Tang Hao, and run away long ago.

Once the porridge was ready, Tang San picked up the three bowls on the stove and carefully filled them from the pot, handing them to Xiao Yan to put on the table behind them.

"Dad, it's time to eat," Tang San called into the room.

After a while, the curtain over the doorway was lifted, and a tall, imposing figure emerged with somewhat unsteady steps.

He was a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties, tall and powerfully built, with bronze skin. His face looked as though it were coated in wax, his hair was as messy as a bird's nest, and his eyes were bleary with sleep.

The pungent reek of alcohol on him made Xiao Yan frown.

This was Xiao Yan's father in this world, Tang Hao. Perhaps because Heavenly Flames had descended from the sky on the day Xiao Yan was born, Tang Hao had named him "Tang Yan."

But Xiao Yan had never accepted that name, and at one point had even refused in his heart to acknowledge this drunken father. In secret, he had given himself the name Xiao Yan.

As for why he wanted the surname Xiao, even he did not know.

He always felt as though all of this had been ordained by some unseen hand.

Upon seeing the cooked porridge on the table, Tang Hao showed no fear of the heat. He simply grabbed a bowl and gulped its contents down. A moment later, a little luster finally returned to his sallow face.

Tang Hao quickly emptied the bowl. Holding it, he went to the pot and filled it again, followed by another bowl... and another.

Eighty or ninety percent of the pot of porridge ended up in Tang Hao's stomach. Once he had eaten and drunk his fill, he let out a long breath before slowly setting his bowl on the table.

As their father, he did not seem to care whether his two children had eaten enough.

Tang Hao's drooping eyelids opened a little as he looked at Xiao Yan and Tang San. Bleary-eyed, he said, "If any work comes in, accept it first. I'll do it this afternoon. I'm a little tired, so I'm going back to sleep."

Tang Hao kept a very regular schedule. He slept in the mornings and, when he had time in the afternoons, forged farming tools to earn money for cheap ale.

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