The Next Day
The morning fog had yet to fully disperse, yet Qingshi Village was already far livelier than usual.
Along the village road, figures moved in clusters. Children were urged forward by adults toward the center of the village. Some wore excited expressions, others looked confused, and some were so overwhelmed by this unusual "attention" that they scarcely dared to speak.
Li Changsheng walked among the crowd, his pace matching those around him, appearing entirely unremarkable.
Only he himself knew that his heartbeat was slightly faster than normal.
Not obvious—but constant.
It was a feeling suspended between anticipation and fear, like standing before a fork in the road whose depths could not be seen. Reason told him there was no need to panic, and experience told him he had already imagined countless possible outcomes. Yet the body did not fully obey reason.
This was the body of a six-year-old.
But with two lifetimes of experience.
Facing a scene he had once fantasized about countless times in novels, now that it had truly arrived, it carried an indescribable sense of unreality. If not for the original body's father speaking to him in a low voice beside him, he might have suspected that this was nothing more than a dream he had yet to wake from.
At that thought, Li Changsheng subconsciously clenched his fingers, then quickly relaxed them.
Sensing his tension, the father spoke quietly:
"Son, today is the most important day in our village people's lives—martial soul awakening."
The man's voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally steady.
"To awaken a martial soul, and to have soul power as well— for an ordinary farming family, that's a chance to 'rise straight into the clouds,' to become a soul master."
At this point, the normally taciturn man paused, then softened his tone:
"No matter whether you have soul power or not, you're still my son. If you can't become a soul master, that's fine too. Even without soul masters, people can still live a good life."
"Don't be too nervous."
Li Changsheng nodded.
He had long understood these truths. Yet when he truly felt this undisguised concern, warmth still rose involuntarily in his chest.
Silently, he thought:
"If I really can't become a soul master, and spend my whole life in this quiet village… that doesn't actually seem so bad."
The awakening platform soon came into view.
It was nothing like what he had imagined—so simple it was almost crude. The surface of the black awakening stones was covered in fine cracks, yet they still slowly emitted a gentle white glow.
A hall deacon from the Spirit Hall stood at the center of the platform, his expression indifferent, clearly accustomed to such scenes.
"One at a time."
The voice was not loud, but carried a professional calm and detachment.
When the first child stepped onto the platform, Li Changsheng's attention did not linger on the child himself, but fixed on the instant the awakening stone lit up.
White light spread—then rapidly withdrew.
A hoe martial soul.
The deacon soul master took out a faintly glowing blue crystal ball from his pouch. One above and one below, the child and the deacon placed their hands upon it.
Moments later, the deacon shook his head.
"No soul power. You cannot become a soul master. Step aside."
His tone was cold, devoid of any unnecessary emotion.
The excitement on the child's face quickly faded, leaving only clear disappointment. Head lowered, he walked off the awakening platform. Awaiting him was only a brief and icy voice:
"Next."
Below the platform, someone let out a soft sigh.
Li Changsheng was not surprised.
Yet he still could not help thinking—if he were standing in that child's place, would he feel the same disappointment?
The moment that thought surfaced, an uncontrollable trace of fear rose in his heart.
He suddenly realized:
Even the most ordinary outcome was a genuinely possible reality.
One child after another stepped onto the awakening platform.
On the surface, Li Changsheng remained calm, his gaze steady, as if keeping a rational distance from the ceremony. But inside, his thoughts churned uncontrollably.
What if it's a tool-type martial soul, but the soul power is too low?
What if it's a useless martial soul—should he completely abandon the path of becoming a soul master?
What if… there is no soul power at all?
He had already considered these questions countless times.
Until a voice, clearly charged with emotion, cut through his thoughts.
"Wu Chang, you did it! Wu Chang, you succeeded!!!"
A child of the same age, who had just failed to awaken soul power, looked at the boy named Wu Chang with undisguised envy.
For the first time, a faint smile appeared on the deacon soul master's face.
"Wu Chang. Martial soul: Iron Rod. Innate soul power: level six."
"Are you willing to join the Spirit Hall?"
"If I take this kid back to the Spirit Hall, the reward resources alone will be enough for me to push toward level twenty…"
The deacon soul master calculated silently.
Wu Chang barely hesitated before nodding firmly.
His parents were so excited they almost lost their voices.
"My son has made it! My Wu family finally has a soul master!"
People around them stepped forward one after another to offer congratulations.
"Brother Wu, what great fortune!"
"The Wu family has produced a true prodigy—your days will surely flourish from now on!"
After that, two more children awakened innate soul power in succession.
But when the moment of "it's your turn" truly drew near, every psychological contingency he had prepared in advance began to feel pale and powerless.
Because no one could take this moment in his place.
"Next."
The voice sounded.
Li Changsheng raised his head—and realized it was him.
In that instant, he clearly felt his throat tighten slightly.
Not fear, but a faint physiological response.
As if his body were silently reminding him:
This will affect your entire life.
He stepped onto the awakening platform.
"Greetings, Soul Master."
The deacon responded indifferently.
"Extend your right hand."
A warm force gathered from all parts of his body, surging toward his right hand.
However—
The martial soul projection that should have appeared did not emerge.
His right hand—was completely blank.
In that split second, countless thoughts exploded in Li Changsheng's mind.
"Could it be… because my soul is not from this world, I can't awaken a martial soul?"
The deacon soul master also showed a look of confusion.
No martial soul? Such a situation had never appeared on the Douluo Continent.
Just as Li Changsheng forcibly suppressed his chaotic thoughts—
Rays of golden light suddenly erupted from within his body.
The brilliance was blinding, illuminating the entire awakening platform in an instant.
Li Changsheng instinctively pulled his right hand back.
At the same time, a fist-sized white sphere of light emerged.
In the next moment, a phantom slowly took shape above his palm.
It was—
A small golden sword.
The patterns along the blade were archaic. It hovered silently, yet exuded a heart-stirring aura, as though it could swallow everything around it whole.
The small sword trembled lightly, absorbing the white light mass entirely. Immediately after, it released a deep, satisfied sword hum.
Li Changsheng felt his heart tighten, suddenly afraid that in the next instant, the sword might consume him as well.
He looked up—only to see the deacon soul master staring blankly, as if his soul had momentarily left his body. The surrounding noise vanished abruptly, and the world fell into an eerie silence.
In the next moment, everything returned to normal.
"Iron Sword martial soul."
The deacon's voice sounded once more.
"Decent attack power. Innate soul power, level two. Very ordinary."
"Not qualified to join the Spirit Hall."
The conclusion was already formed in his mind.
Li Changsheng looked at the deacon soul master and felt that something about his state was off—but the man himself seemed unaware of it.
"Iron sword?"
He lowered his gaze to his right hand.
There, indeed, remained only the phantom of an ordinary small iron sword.
"Could it be… that what just happened was only an illusion?"
Yet the deacon's brief lapse did not feel like a dream.
He was certain that in that instant, he had not seen wrongly.
He retracted his martial soul and stepped aside, waiting for the ceremony to conclude.
"Qin Hui, have you truly decided?"
"Yes, Village Chief."
"A bird will eventually fly into the sky. As his father, I should give him the greatest help I can."
After the ceremony ended,
Qin Hui handed a letter to Li Changsheng.
"My son, Qin Chuan. As your father, I know you will walk the path of a soul master."
"What I can do for you… is only this much."
It was—
A letter of recommendation to the Orlick Junior Soul Master Academy.
"With this, you can go to the academy, study, and become a true soul master."
Qin Hui smiled faintly, his expression calm.
Li Changsheng understood very clearly what this letter represented.
Qingshi Village had not produced a single soul master for fifty full years. The recommendation quota that should have belonged to the village was almost every year quietly bought away by other villages.
The deacons of the Spirit Hall turned a blind eye, using it in exchange for resources to aid their own cultivation.
The gap between ordinary people and soul masters was that naked and brutal.
For the first time, Li Changsheng felt genuine gratitude toward the father of this body's original owner.
"Thank you, Father."
"Your child will not fail you."
That evening
Late at night.
Li Changsheng summoned his martial soul and attempted to channel soul power into it.
The martial soul merely became more solid, but underwent no other change.
He frowned slightly.
"Forget it."
Perhaps the timing was not yet right.
This village had gone many years without a soul master. There was no one to guide him, and he dared not cultivate recklessly.
Effort was important.
But meaningless effort only consumed the future.
He merely stood outside the house, using sword forms he remembered from television in his previous life, repeating them again and again to familiarize himself with his martial soul.
Slash.
Tap.
Pierce.
Chop.
Thrust…
The night was like flowing water.
Sword shadows moved without a sound.