Douluo Dalu: I am the protagonist

Chapter 3: No title,

Douluo Continent, southwest of the Heaven Dou Empire, Fasno Province.

Yes, there's a legendary village here, Holy Soul Village!

Its fame alone makes it superior to the surrounding sluts, high-class and classy! It's undeniable, it's impossible not to admit it, after all, this village produced a Soul Sage!

Holy Soul Village is a peaceful and tranquil hamlet at the foot of Holy Soul Mountain.

Its inhabitants enjoy the leisurely nature bestows upon them, reveling in each day with ease and leisure.

Everyone who knows him calls him Xiao San. Every morning, he rises early to boil a pot of water and cook rice, a common breakfast for the villagers.

The more precious a delicacy, the more ordinary it often appears. Hard work always brings happiness to the whole body and soul.

Let's enter today's "Douluo on the Tip of the Tongue." (Ahem, funny excuse for a life saver)

The three shabby thatched houses are not only cluttered but also carry the distinct smell of rusty metal, a blacksmith's signature. If one were to rank the poorest families in Holy Spirit Village, Tang San's would undoubtedly be number one.

After preparing a steaming meal, Tang San called into the house, "Dad, it's time to eat!"

He poured the rice into a bowl and waited obediently at the table.

A moment later, a man with a gray face threw back the door curtain and stumbled in.

A whiff of alcohol hit Tang San's face, and he couldn't help but frown, though he'd gotten used to it over the years.

The man was a burly figure, his clothes as greasy as his hair, his face unshaven. Without a word, he lifted his bowl and gulped down the steaming porridge like a bottle of wine.

No one could have guessed this was the Haotian Douluo who had once beaten the last Pope to a pulp.

Tang Hao glanced at his son, then ignored him, seeing he was hesitant to speak, and turned back to the inner room.

"Dad..." Tang San called out weakly.

Tang Hao paused, but didn't turn around. He asked, "What's going on?"

Tang San's gaze grew firmer. "Dad, do I have a brother or sister?"

Tang Hao's expression suddenly changed, his eyes trembling. Unfortunately, with his back to Tang San, Tang San didn't notice his father's abnormality.

Tang Hao took a long swig of wine and said coldly, "No!"

Tang San stared blankly at the porridge in front of him. No?

He raised his left hand, vaguely remembering that when he first opened his eyes to the world, he saw that little creature who had been so kind to him, and it was with this left hand that he held the little creature's right hand...

"Xiao San, Xiao San, are you home?"

The voice arrived before the person arrived.

Tang San knew who it was from the age-old tone of the voice.

Tang San hurriedly opened the door. "Grandpa Jack, you're here?"

The old man, though in his sixties, looked energetic.

Tang San was incredibly grateful and polite to him. After all, without the village chief who had supported his family, he might not be alive today.

Old Jack rubbed Tang San's head. "Xiao San, your spirit awakening will be in three days. You're six now, right?"

"Yes, almost six."

"Then I'll pick you up from your house in three days. That lazy Tang Hao can't be relied upon." Old Jack sighed.

A glint of hope shone in Tang San's eyes. Since arriving in this world, his most precious treasure had been the martial arts manuals he had brought from the Tang Sect of Bashu. He had been practicing the Xuantian Gong since childhood, yet he had never been able to break through the first level.

He had a vague feeling that the reason for this inability lay in his spirit. He didn't care which spirit he could awaken. As long as he could break through the technique, relying on the Tang Sect's hidden weapons, would he be without a foothold on this continent?   

Dividing line...

The Holy Son Hall of the Pope's Palace and the Holy Soul Village are polar opposites. Within this hall, even a random ornament would fetch tens of thousands of gold coins at an outside auction.

On a large, soft blue silk bed, Qianqian nestled in a warm embrace, gazing at the moonlight.

System, can I ever return to my original world?

"Ding, the probability of the host returning to the original starry sky is 0.00001%."

Qianqian blinked twice, unsure whether to be filled with hope or despair.

Such a small probability, what's the difference between it and no probability at all? But, on second thought, there's still some hope.

[Then, can I bring someone else to this world?]

Qianqian sighed softly, her fair, tender face looking even more adorable.

"Ding, it depends on the person."

Qianqian raised a brow. "Can my Tangtang come?"

Although he had been in this world for six years, he dreamed every day of the little creature that followed him around. It's safe to say he didn't even want his parents. The only thing he lingered on from his old world was Little Tangtang.

"Ding, world teleportation requires two conditions. First, the target person must be in a spirit state, meaning dead. Second, the spirit must be strong enough to withstand the damage of the teleportation."

"Okay." Qianqian turned over in bed. "I hope Little Tangtang survives..."

But then she thought, damn, if Little Tangtang survives, she'll definitely get married and have children. Even if I finally achieve that extremely unlikely possibility, everything will be different when I return to that world.

"Ah." Qianqian leaned back into the warm embrace beside him.

He'd been eating this tofu since he was a child.

It was something worth bragging about. When he was traveling in Douluo Continent, he'd brag to everyone he met, "I slept in the arms of the Spirit Hall Pope for six years!"

That's right, the fragrant beauty in Qianqian's bed was the legendary Spirit Hall Pope, Bibi Dong.

Bibi Dong shouldn't need sleep at her level, but she's spoiled the little guy too much, cuddling him up to sleep at least once a week. Of course, this is a bonus earned by the little guy's tantrums and cuteness.

The little guy suddenly sat up, pounding his chest and stamping his feet, howling in a melodious voice: "My head hurts, I can't sleep, my chest is a little stuffy!"

"Ouch."

Before he could express his feelings any further, Bibi Dong slapped him in the face.

"Little guy, what are you doing so crazy in the middle of the night? Mommy's sleeping with you, and you can't sleep?"

Qian Qian looked at Bibi Dong's face in the moonlight with grievance. It must be said, the beautiful girl, there's no way to escape. Her features are delicate and pretty, and she has a unique charm. Too bad, this is his mother.

"Mom, what kind of martial spirit do you think I'll awaken?" The little guy asked indirectly, quietly observing Bibi Dong's expression.

Seeing that Bibi Dong didn't respond, she continued, "I should be awakening the angel spirit like Sister Xue, or awakening the little spider like mother?"

After the little guy made such a fuss, Bibi Dong really couldn't answer him. The direct descendants of the Haotian Sect should all awaken the Haotian Hammer. Bibi Dong knew this and she couldn't hide the awakening of the spirit tomorrow from the little guy.

Although the little guy was naughty, he was also well-read. It was impossible for him not to recognize the Haotian Hammer. If it was really the Haotian Hammer, how could she explain it to the little guy? After all, no matter how much the spirit mutated, it could not mutate from a beast spirit to a weapon spirit.

Bibi Dong's face was bitter. This matter probably couldn't be concealed anymore. After all, the little guy was too smart.

Bibi Dong touched the little guy's head and said softly, "Qianqian, if you find out that mother is not your biological mother, will you still love mother?"

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  (End of this chapter)