c1: Soul Travels to Another World
Douluo Continent, Heaven Dou Empire, Southwestern Region — Fasinuo Province!
Wang Family Village just a humble settlement tucked quietly near the outskirts of Nuoding City. Its existence is modest, perhaps even invisible on most maps. The people here are simple, their lives tied to the land. With little more than grain and vegetables to offer, the village's economy depends entirely on agricultural trade with nearby Nuoding City.
Golden fields stretch across the landscape, dotted with farmers hard at work. Among them is a lone child, no older than six, but already blending in seamlessly with the adults. Hoe in hand, he pulls weeds with practiced ease. In this world, where survival relies on the seasons and soil, even a child must know how to work.
His name is Wang Li, a boy who bears the scars of tragedy even at such a young age. Named "Li" for his tenacity at birth, his size so large it cost his mother her life, he was born into sorrow and raised by endurance. His father died three years ago during a brutal encounter with wild boars from the forested mountain behind the village. The beasts rampaged through the fields, and though the villagers tried to defend their land, many fell. His father was among the dead. Since then, Wang Li has walked alone.
Despite his age, Wang Li already has the physique of a ten-year-old solid limbs, wheat-colored skin, a strong back from farm labor, and a calm gaze shaped by hardship. His features are well-formed: thick brows, clear eyes, a broad jaw. In a bustling city like Nuoding, he might pass unnoticed. But in the countryside, this young man already stands out. If he grows as expected, he might become known as the most handsome and capable young man for miles.
The sun hung high, its heat pressing hard against the earth. Even the adults began to retreat from the fields. Sweat drenched Wang Li's back, and he wiped his brow before gathering his tools and walking home, located on the western edge of the village.
Unexpectedly, someone waited by his doorway.
An old man sat on the wooden steps, squinting in the sunlight. Wang Li's eyes brightened, and he quickened his steps.
"Village Chief Grandpa! What brings you here?"
The elder was Wang Ping, the village head and one of the few respected elders in the area. Though most villagers in Wang Family Village shared the surname 'Wang', only a few bore the patience and wisdom that Wang Ping did. He had guided the village through drought, wild beasts, and loss. Even though he wasn't truly Wang Li's grandfather, the boy had long since taken to calling him such.
Wang Ping smiled warmly, his face lined by years but his spirit undiminished. There was pride in his eyes, Wang Li was a child who didn't complain, didn't beg, and never slacked. In a village where laziness meant hunger, Wang Li's diligence had earned him more than just survival.
"You've worked hard today, Xiao Li," Wang Ping said, motioning for the boy to put down his hoe. "But tomorrow, there's no need to farm. Spirit Hall is sending someone to Nuoding to awaken the spirits of all children who've turned six. They'll visit our village before heading to the main city. If your Spirit is strong, you could become a Spirit Master, someone respected across the continent. No more planting, no more toiling under the sun. You could live with pride."
In the world of Douluo, where martial strength often determined one's fate, Spirit Masters stood high above ordinary folk. Nobles, kings, even emperors revered them. And all of them started from Spirit Awakening Day.
Wang Li's face lit up with understanding. "Thank you, Village Chief Grandpa. Spirit Hall truly honors its name. Even a forgotten village like ours is given a chance."
Wang Ping chuckled and nodded. "Yes, even if most awaken ordinary spirits like hoes, sickles, or kitchen tools... We still hope. Who knows? You might awaken something remarkable, like the Blue Silver Grass, or better still the Thousand-Year Dragon Snake or even a Beast Spirit like the Ghost Shadow Leopard."
Wang Li lowered his eyes briefly, a glimmer flashing beneath their surface.
"Perhaps I really can awaken a powerful Spirit," he said, his tone quiet yet firm.
What Wang Ping didn't know what no one could possibly know was that Wang Li was not of this world. In his previous life, he had read about the Douluo Continent in a fantasy novel every Spirit Rank, every clan, every turning point. He knew the hierarchy of spirits, from Trash Spirits like Blue Silver Grass to legendary ones like the Clear Sky Hammer or the Seraphim.
His memories weren't fragmented like dreams. They were complete, detailed, sharp. He wasn't merely a transmigrator he was a reader turned participant.
Wang Ping stood up slowly. "I've seen many awakenings in my time, Xiao Li. Not once has anyone in our village awakened a beast-type or tool-type spirit worthy of true cultivation. But I've never seen a child like you either. Be ready. Tomorrow, go to the Spirit Hall building in the village square early. The Spirit Master won't wait."
Wang Li bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Grandpa. I'll be there before sunrise."
Wang Ping patted the boy's shoulder, then turned and shuffled away, off to inform the other families.
As Wang Li watched the old man's figure shrink into the distance, his thoughts stirred.
"Spirit Awakening… finally. This is where it begins. The path of a Spirit Master. But unlike those who awaken blindly—I already know what's possible. I know about spirit rings, spirit beasts, and spirit bones. I just need to take the first step."
And that step was tomorrow.
He awakened at the age of three. Memories before that age began to blur like faded ink, while vivid fragments of his past life surged steadily into his consciousness memories from a completely different world.
Wang Li speculated that this strange phenomenon was a form of cognitive self-defense. The body, still undeveloped in infancy, likely couldn't bear the overload of two lifetimes' memories. Only when his spirit power foundation began to stabilize around age three, did the seal gradually loosen, allowing his past-life memories to surface in fragments.
This aligned with what's commonly known in both his worlds: "From the age one can remember…" It's a well-documented reality that most humans cannot retain clear memories before the age of three. And even those earliest recollections are often vague impressions blurred colors, broken sounds, fleeting emotions. Only after three do stable long-term memories begin to form.
Upon awakening, Wang Li, who had once been an ordinary salaryman in his former life, immediately noticed a change in the attitude of the villagers toward him.
Unlike the other children still immersed in childish squabbles or playing in the mud, Wang Li had already begun to lift small farm tools with both hands, dragging them into the fields to contribute.
Whether he completed much work was irrelevant the crucial part was the initiative. In a small, resource-strained village, generosity was rationed. Assistance came to those showing effort, not to those perceived as lazy or dependent. When survival itself is difficult, no one wants to feed a child who offers nothing back. But if a child especially an orphan proved himself hardworking, people would remember the kindness owed to his late father and mother.
Wang Li understood this well. In the three years since his father's death, he had toiled daily in the fields, helping during the planting season and assisting the elderly during harvest.
Now, at six, a brand-new chapter of the world the true cultivation path of Spirit Masters was about to unfold before him.
Filled with hope, Wang Li stepped over the threshold of his home, a modest wooden hut at the far edge of Wang Family Village.
He headed directly for the kitchen and lifted the cracked wooden lid covering the pot on the old stone stove. Inside was less than half a pot of cold, sticky porridge.
Without hesitation, he scooped some into a chipped wooden bowl and took it behind the stove, where the warmth still lingered faintly from the morning's fire.
Beside him sat a small clay jar of pickled wild vegetables his usual side dish. Though humble, this was his daily sustenance.
Wang Li ate quickly, savoring the plain flavors. White rice porridge offered carbohydrates and energy, while pickled vegetables, though salty and sour, supplied needed sodium and minerals.
It wasn't much he hadn't tasted meat in a long while but it was enough to keep him strong.
Despite his plain meals, his body was lean and tough, sculpted by constant farm labor and clean village air. In a world where spirit power cultivation often depended not just on talent but also physical endurance and spiritual resilience, he couldn't help but wonder: was his developing strength already related to his latent Spirit and innate spirit power?
He didn't yet know what kind of Martial Spirit he would awaken tomorrow. But in his view, having a solid, healthy body was a better foundation than being frail and thin. If he hoped to one day hunt Spirit Beasts and absorb spirit rings, he needed this strength more than ever.
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