In the dream, Wang Shenmeng heard the gods whisper: "Do you want to travel through time?"
"I miss you!"
He dreamed that he had turned into a colorful butterfly, soaring over mountains, crossing vast seas, and finally breaking free from the Blue Star—only to lose himself in the endless void of the universe.
...
After an unknown span of time, Wang Shenmeng awoke slowly.
The scorching sun beat down on his face, so hot that he could barely keep his eyes open. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his head, and fragmented memories poured into his mind.
"Ah—it hurts!"
Clutching his head, Wang Shenmeng groaned in misery. At last, the pain subsided, leaving behind a memory that did not belong to him.
"Douluo Continent… Holy Spirit Village… Wang Shenmeng… orphan… beggar…"
He murmured the words, his heart trembling.
What he thought was only a dream of time travel had become reality.
To test it, Wang Shenmeng pinched his thigh hard. The sharp pain shattered his last illusion.
This was no dream—he had truly crossed over.
"If I had known I would time-travel, I should have cleared my phone before going to bed. Now my reputation is ruined…"
Wang Shenmeng sighed in annoyance. Since this was soul travel, back on Blue Star the conclusion would probably be that he had died suddenly.
As for the cause? He was part of the unemployed masses—there was no way he could have died from overwork. Considering the number of restricted-level resources stored on his phone, the verdict would most likely be death by malnutrition.
After sitting there for a while, Wang Shenmeng had no choice but to accept reality.
"But this is actually the Douluo Continent… the so-called fantasy sewer…"
He had read the novel Douluo Dalu long ago. At first, his memory of it was hazy, but after the anime aired, he picked it up again—largely because of the many girls with different charms—and now his recollection was quite clear.
"This is a world where social classes are solidified to a terrifying degree… and this body was born a commoner. This…"
Sorting through the memories in his mind, Wang Shenmeng frowned.
The name of this body was also Wang Shenmeng. He was eight years old this year, but he had not yet participated in the Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony.
His parents were not soul masters, but within the commoner class they had been considered relatively well-off. Unfortunately, because his mother was so beautiful, she caught the eye of a lecherous noble. Coveting her beauty, the aristocrat tried to seize her.
Naturally, lofty nobles cared nothing for the feelings of ants. They took what they wanted when they saw it. But Madam Wang, steadfast and unyielding, chose to end her life by striking her head against a tree.
The boy's father had scolded him harshly, and the enraged nobles beat him to death with sticks.
Thus, the six-year-old original owner became an orphan. His family's property was plundered by relatives, so-called friends, and even neighbors. Left with nothing, he became a beggar, unable to remain in his hometown.
For more than a year he wandered, until half a year ago he arrived at Holy Spirit Village. There, he survived on scraps, begging for food. Not long ago, while fleeing from a wild dog, he stumbled and fell—and in that moment, Wang Shenmeng crossed through time.
"This is too tragic. Don't worry, I will live on for you. If I ever gain the chance and the strength, I will avenge you and make those nobles pay the price."
Perhaps it was the weight of that vow, but after speaking these words, Wang Shenmeng felt a faint sense of relief.
He struggled to rise from the ground. Looking down at his frail, emaciated body, he could not help but weep.
Following the fragments of memory, he made his way to a pond. Leaning over the water's surface, he saw the reflection of a thin, malnourished boy. Though his face was smeared with dirt, his features were still delicate, even faintly handsome.
"Xiaomeng, Xiaomeng, where are you?"
An old voice called out, tinged with worry.
"It's Old Jack!"
Wang Shenmeng did his best to settle into his new identity. He stood up, walked toward Old Jack, and called out loudly, "Grandpa Jack, I'm here!"
Before long, Old Jack—gray-haired yet still energetic—hurried over. Seeing Wang Shenmeng safe and sound, the tension on his face eased.
Breathing heavily, he asked with concern, "Xiaomeng, I heard from Xiaohua that you were being chased by a wild dog. I rushed over right away. Were you bitten?"
As he spoke, he carefully examined Wang Shenmeng from head to toe.
Imitating the original owner's habits, Wang Shenmeng put on a frightened expression, shook his head, and said, "I fell and fainted for a while. When I woke up, the wild dog was gone. It didn't bite me."
"That's good."
Seeing no wounds on his body, Old Jack finally relaxed. He cursed under his breath, "That damned wild dog—who knows where it came from. We'll have to drive it away soon. If it dares to bite someone, we'll kill it on the spot."
He then patted Wang Shenmeng's head, his expression softening into a kind smile. "You must be hungry. Come, have lunch with Grandpa."
"Thank you, Grandpa!"
Wang Shenmeng didn't refuse. He was indeed hungry, and this small body had no way of securing food for the time being, so he could only continue to rely on others for meals.
It wasn't the first time he had come to Old Jack's home. Over the past six months, the one who had helped him the most was Old Jack. He often brought Wang Shenmeng home for dinner and even sent him food on occasion. Without that kindness, the original owner might have starved to death long ago.
After walking along the dirt road in the village for a while, Wang Shenmeng couldn't help but glance several times at a mud-brick house they passed.
The house was dilapidated, with an iron plaque hanging at the door. Strange Douluo characters were carved upon it, which Wang Shenmeng recognized as the word Blacksmith.
"This is Tang San's house. It's really run-down."
He found it strange. At this time, Tang San was still living in poverty. His meals were meager, barely enough to sustain him—yet even so, his life was still a little better than Wang Shenmeng's current state.
Wang Shenmeng had never been inside Tang San's house. Though he had eaten food from countless families, he had never once eaten here. After all, Tang San's family was also struggling to survive, often relying on Old Jack's help themselves. They had no ability to aid others.
Curiously, Wang Shenmeng craned his neck to take a few more glances. This shabby hut would one day become a holy place in the Douluo Continent, but for now, not even stray dogs were willing to enter.
"Tang Hao is still sleeping at noon. Outrageous."
The sound of loud snoring echoed clearly from within the house.
Old Jack's face twisted with disgust. He warned sternly, "Little Meng, don't imitate him when you grow up. He's a useless man, a waste of food. If it weren't for Xiao San's sake, I would have driven him out of the village long ago."
"Alright, I understand!"
Wang Shenmeng nodded obediently, but refrained from saying anything to belittle Tang Hao. He worried that if Tang Hao heard of it, he might find a way to die quietly one day, leaving no place for anyone to cry.
Hearing voices, a little boy walked out of the house. He was thin and dark-skinned, with an ordinary appearance—so plain that no one in a crowd would spare him a second glance. In sharp contrast stood Wang Shenmeng.
This boy was Tang San. Though two years younger than Wang Shenmeng, he carried a maturity far beyond his age.
Tang San glanced at the two of them and greeted, "Grandpa Jack!" But he ignored Wang Shenmeng.
Wang Shenmeng offered a friendly smile. "Hi, Tang San!"
Tang San gave him a brief look, frowned, and turned away without replying.
Wang Shenmeng only smiled, unsurprised.
At this time, Tang San's relationship with the village children was not good. He believed they despised the poor and fawned over the rich, so he looked down on them in return. As a top genius of the Tang Sect in his past life, he naturally would not lower himself to curry favor with a few village children. Thus, he never bothered to pay them any attention.
Wang Shenmeng secretly curled his lips, disapproving in his heart.
What bad thoughts could a child have? He was a wandering orphan, yet in the past six months he had gotten along well with the other children of the village. No one despised him for being an orphan—only Tang San showed clear dislike.
Tang San never played with the other children, and over time he was ostracized by them. As a result, he and Wang Shenmeng were not familiar with each other.
Old Jack smiled kindly. "Little San, haven't you eaten yet?"
Tang San replied, "I just finished cooking porridge. I was about to call my father to get up for dinner."
Old Jack's expression darkened with dissatisfaction. "You're still growing. How can you eat porridge all the time? That Tang Hao is simply unreasonable. He only drinks and sleeps all day long, leaving you, a child, to support him. What kind of father is that? To give birth but not to raise is to be a father in vain."
Tang San frowned, his voice turning cold. "Grandpa Jack, don't speak ill of my father. As his son, it is only natural for me to take care of him. For me, this is a kind of happiness. And this is a matter between father and son. We don't rely on others to support us, so I don't think you have the right to interfere."
"Oh, you child…"
Old Jack had long noticed the strangeness in Tang San's temperament. With a helpless sigh, he said, "Forget it, let's not talk about him anymore. I'll send some food over this afternoon so you'll have enough to eat for a few days."
Tang San suddenly smiled. "Thank you, Grandpa Jack."
"Good."
Jack smiled and added, "In a few days, the deacon from Spirit Hall will come to awaken your martial soul. You should take good care of yourself. Don't let hunger or illness delay your awakening."
Tang San's eyes flashed, and he nodded seriously. "I understand, Grandpa Jack."
"I'm free this afternoon. I'll come and talk to your father again. He's already a lost cause, but I hope he won't stop you from awakening your martial soul. If you can become a noble soul master, that will be the glory of our Holy Spirit Village."
Old Jack nodded with a smile, then turned to Wang Shenmeng. "Let's go!"
"Awakening… martial soul?"
Watching the two of them leave, Tang San frowned, deep in thought.
Wang Shenmeng followed Old Jack, his face full of anticipation. "Grandpa Jack, I also want to participate in the awakening ceremony. Is that okay?"