Morning in the village began with the cries of roosters and the clatter of wooden buckets at the well. The straw-roofed homes stood quietly against the backdrop of fields stretching toward the hills, bathed in warm sunlight.
Long Tianyu was already awake. He sat cross-legged on a flat stone behind his house, his young body steady, his chest rising and falling in calm rhythm. Spirit particles drifted toward him like faint motes of dust, sinking into his frame with each breath. His shoulders broadened slightly for his age, his arms lean and firm. Though still a boy, his body carried the quiet strength of someone who trained daily.
Good. The flow is steady today.
He opened his eyes, amber irises reflecting the morning light. Standing, he dusted off his knees and headed toward the house. His mother was already at the stove, stirring a pot of porridge. Her golden hair was tied back loosely, ruby eyes soft with warmth despite the lines of fatigue at their corners.
"You're up early again, Tianyu," she said, glancing at him. "Not even the sun can keep up with you."
He smiled faintly and fetched bowls from the shelf. "It's better this way. More time to do things."
She shook her head lightly, amused. "Other children your age only think about playing. You… you think like an old man sometimes."
Tianyu didn't reply. He ladled porridge into the bowls and sprinkled in herbs he had gathered the day before. When they sat to eat, the flavor was richer, the warmth lingering longer in their bellies.
His mother sighed softly after her first spoonful. "Strange. When you cook, I always feel less tired."
"Maybe the herbs are good for you," he said simply. Inside, his thoughts added: Cooking God. A ridiculous name for a skill… but if it makes her stronger, I'll keep using it.
After breakfast, Tianyu carried a small bundle to the river where his mother washed clothes. He set down a wooden mold filled with pale blocks.
"What's this?" she asked as he handed her one.
"Try it on the cloth."
She rubbed the block against a shirt. White foam spread, lifting dirt easily. Her eyes widened slightly. "It works better than ash water… and it smells clean."
"It'll save your hands," he said quietly.
She paused, then smiled warmly. "Always thinking of your mother." She reached over to ruffle his hair.
At the nearby bank, two older women watched curiously. "What's that the boy made?" one whispered.
"Some kind of cleaning block," the other answered, eyes widening as she saw the foam. "Look how easily it works. That child is really something."
Tianyu pretended not to hear, but his lips curved faintly. If it makes her life easier, then it's worth it.
Word spread quickly. Within days, neighbors came asking.
"Little Tianyu, can you make me some of those soap blocks?" asked Grandma Liu, her basket slung over her arm. "My back is too weak to scrub hard these days."
"Yes, Grandma," Tianyu replied politely, handing her a small piece wrapped in cloth.
Another villager approached him near the fields. "The mixture you gave me for the soil—it worked. My crops look greener already. Can you make more?"
"Use it sparingly," Tianyu said calmly. "Too much will burn the roots. Spread it thin."
The man scratched his head. "How do you know these things at your age? You're sharper than any adult here."
Tianyu bowed slightly. "Just experiments."
Children, too, had begun gathering around him. At first, they only teased him for sitting so still on his stone.
"Why do you sit like that, Tianyu?" one boy asked.
"To get stronger," he replied simply.
"Stronger? Without a spirit ring?" a girl laughed.
He only smiled faintly. "Want to try?"
Curiosity won out. Soon half a dozen children sat cross-legged around him, fidgeting at first. Tianyu's voice was calm as he guided them.
"Sit straight. Don't slouch. Close your eyes. Breathe slowly, not fast. Feel the air go in… and out."
They giggled at first but soon quieted. Their breaths grew steadier.
One girl peeked at him enviously. His back was straight as a rod, his shoulders firm, his arms carrying faint muscle unlike their thin limbs. "No wonder he's strong," she muttered, trying harder to copy him.
Another boy opened his eyes and whispered, "It feels… warm."
"That's good," Tianyu said. "Do it every day, and you won't get tired so easily."
He wasn't teaching real cultivation—only posture and rhythm. But within weeks, some children grew healthier, less prone to coughing or fatigue. Their parents thanked him with simple gifts: a basket of fruit, extra vegetables, or firewood left at their door.
"Tianyu, my son doesn't fall sick as often," one mother said gratefully.
"It's nothing," Tianyu answered. Just a small thing. But even small things can change lives.
Afternoons were filled with chores. When roofs leaked, Tianyu patched them with tar and leaves. When tools dulled, he sharpened them carefully on stones. When baskets tore, he rewove the fibers until they held firm again.
The villagers began to see him not as just the child of a woman with a "trash martial soul," but as someone reliable.
"Tianyu's a good boy," one farmer said. "Always helping, never complaining."
His mother heard these words often, her eyes softening with pride each time.
That evening, after they finished dinner, his mother set down her chopsticks. Her ruby eyes were unusually serious.
"Tianyu."
He looked up. "Yes, Mother?"
"In three months, you'll be six. That means it's time for your martial soul awakening."
He paused, though he had expected it.
She reached out, brushing his cheek gently. "That day will decide your future. Whether your martial soul is strong or weak, it will be your path."
He lowered his gaze. "I understand."
Her lips curved in a faint, gentle smile. "Even if your martial soul isn't powerful, it doesn't matter. You're my son, and I'll always be proud of you."
Her words warmed him. But deep inside, Tianyu thought: This is Douluo Dalu. Weakness has no place here. I can't stop.
Still, he nodded. "Mm."
Her hand lingered against his cheek for a moment before she withdrew, her expression softening. "Don't worry too much, Tianyu. Just be yourself."
That night, as his breathing steadied and the stars glittered faintly above, another thought rose in Tianyu's mind.
I can't do everything alone.
He pictured the children who tried his breathing exercises, the neighbors grateful for soap or fertilizer, the smiles when food tasted better because of his cooking.
If a few simple things already help so many people… what if I had more hands? A group that grows together, helps each other?
He exhaled slowly, eyes half-closed. I could teach them the basics, share ideas, guide them. One day, it could become a real team. Stronger than just me alone.
Another idea followed, sharp and steady. The things I create… soap, shampoo, better food, stronger crops… they're useful. If I sell them, I can build something more. A business. Resources mean security. A business means protection for Mother. And with protection comes freedom.
The thought lingered, not yet a plan, but a direction.