In Douluo Multiverse , there are Infinite Douluo Dalu
Some where Tang San reincarnated from Tang Sect or some where he was not and some where he is not son of Ah Yin and Tang Hao
It is Douluo Dalu -7234 and here a huge Red Qi Cloud from South and it is Cloud Of Vermillion Bird and Summer and luck and also faintly related to Slaughter and Judgement as if announcing brith of a legend.
The Lixi village was a quiet place.
Nestled between two rolling hills in the eastern reaches of the Douluo Dalu continent , near the Nouding Province , it was the kind of settlement that maps forgot and travelers passed without a second glance. The houses were modest — timber frames, clay roofs, smoke curling lazily from stone chimneys every morning. The people were simple, proud, and strong in the way that only soul masters who have never needed to prove themselves to anyone tend to be.
And in the spring 6 years ago , a child was born to Tang Chen and his wife Tang Xia that is as normal as them
Tang Chen was not a remarkable man by the standards of the wider Douluo continent. He stood tall, with black hair that always seemed slightly wind-tousled no matter the weather, and a pair of blue eyes so clear they reminded people of shallow river water on a sunny afternoon. His martial soul was the Iron Sword — not flashy, not legendary, but dependable in the bone-deep way that its wielder was. He had cultivated it to level twenty-five over the course of many disciplined years, and he wore that rank with quiet satisfaction.
Tang Xia was something else entirely. She was slender and sharp-featured, with the same black hair as her husband and eyes of that same striking blue, though hers carried a cooler edge — the kind of eyes that noticed things. Her martial soul was the Black Red-Eyed Bat, a spirit that granted her exceptional perception in darkness and a sensitivity to the emotions of those around her that bordered on the uncanny. She too had reached level twenty-five, climbing alongside her husband step by careful step.
They were a matched pair in almost every sense. And the child they produced was, by any measure, absurd.
Tang San arrived in the world with a full head of black hair and two enormous blue eyes that blinked at the midwife with an expression of calm, alert curiosity that no newborn had any business wearing. He was round-cheeked and small-fisted, and when he grabbed the midwife's finger within minutes of birth and squeezed with a grip that made her yelp, Tang Chen laughed so hard he had to sit down.
He was, in the vocabulary of every aunt, uncle, neighbor and passing stranger who laid eyes on him, devastatingly cute.
He bounced when he toddled. He babbled with enormous enthusiasm about things no one could decipher. He learned to walk early, learned to talk early, and by age three had developed the habit of collecting interesting rocks and presenting them to his mother with the gravity of someone offering rare treasures. Tang Xia kept every single one.
Tang Chen taught him simple stances in the mornings, patient and unhurried. Tang Xia told him stories in the evenings, curled beside the fire. The village wrapped around the three of them like a warm fist.
It was, for six years, a very good life.