This is a magical world—one without fighting spirit or magic, but instead, the mysterious martial souls that every person possesses. These souls aid them in daily life, making existence more convenient.
When the humans of this world reach the age of six, they gain the opportunity to awaken their martial soul. These souls can manifest as objects, plants, or animals. Among them, a rare few are born with soul power—a latent energy that allows for cultivation and grants immense strength.
Those blessed with this gift are known as:
Soul Masters!
Soul Masters are the most revered figures on the continent, wielding power beyond the imagination of ordinary people. Commoners fear them, respect them, and yearn to join their ranks. Yet, whether one becomes a Soul Master depends entirely on whether they possess innate soul power upon awakening their martial soul.
With innate soul power, cultivation is possible, and the path to greatness opens. Without it, all efforts are futile.
'Innate soul power... Even if I don't practice the Mysterious Heaven Skill, I should still have it, right?'
A young boy walked through the streets of Holy Soul Village, heading toward the village chief's house. As he listened to the villagers' idle chatter after their day's work, a thoughtful expression crossed his face.
"I'm Tang San. Grandpa Jack, are you home? I'm here again!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The boy knocking was none other than Tang San, and the village chief of Holy Soul Village was the widely respected elder known throughout the region—
Old Jack!
"Creak!"
The sun-bleached door, its red paint long faded, slowly swung open, revealing Old Jack's hunched frame and kindly face.
"Little San, you're here! Grandpa made breakfast for you."
Before Tang San could respond, Old Jack pulled him inside.
On the clean wooden table sat a simple yet hearty meal: a pot of rice porridge, a basket of steamed buns, a plate of pickled vegetables, and a bowl of eggs.
For rural villagers—even the village chief—this was a generous spread. Yet, Old Jack had clearly prepared extra, a sign that Tang San was a frequent guest.
"Sorry to trouble you again, Grandpa Jack."
Tang San accepted the porridge and steamed bun, eating hungrily.
"That bastard Tang Hao... He's utterly detestable. No sense of fatherly duty at all." Old Jack scowled as he watched the boy devour his meal.
"Ever since he came to Holy Soul Village, I've never seen him act like a proper human being. When you were a baby, he at least bothered to ask the villagers for milk—though half the time, he choked you with it. Once you learned to cook, he left everything to you!"
"And him? All he does is drink and sleep. A grown man, yet so useless! Even if he suffered before coming here, must he wallow in such decay? He can't even provide for his own son!"
"Blacksmithing is a respectable trade, but he's too lazy and ill-tempered. The villagers are afraid to approach him—they bring their broken tools to me instead!"
"Little San, don't grow up like him. Your father's given up on life, but you're different. You're clever, and Master Su Yuntao thinks highly of you."
Old Jack's rambling was typical of the elderly, yet Tang San couldn't deny his words. Tang Hao did have serious flaws.
Where was the pride of the Haotian Sect?
Nowhere to be seen.
All that remained was a pitiful, stubborn man clinging to his wounded pride.
'If he had any sense, he'd focus on healing and cultivation—fight back!'
Tang San scoffed inwardly. 'Hidden injuries? Hard to recover? Please. Drinking like that, he'd be lucky to survive, let alone heal.'
But he kept these thoughts to himself. After all, as a child, he wasn't supposed to know such things. Instead, he helped Old Jack inside, gave him a back massage, and assisted with chores.
The current Tang San was not the original soul from the martial arts world but a transmigrator from modern times. In his past life, he'd been named Tang Chuan—though after crossing worlds, the "Chuan" character had flipped horizontally.
Unfortunately, he'd only inherited fragments of his predecessor's legacy: the Mysterious Heaven Skill, Purple Demon Eyes, Mysterious Jade Hand, Ghost Shadow Perplexing Trace, and Controlling Crane, Capturing Dragon techniques.
The knowledge of hidden weapons, poisons, herbal medicine, and—most crucially—immortal grasses was lost. Perhaps his transmigration had shattered the original Tang San's soul, leaving only the Mysterious Heaven Record, the one text the martial artist had memorized obsessively.
If so, Tang San owed his predecessor a debt. Without these fragments, surviving on Douluo Continent would've been impossible.
Life here wasn't easy. His first challenge? Growing up.
He knew better than to rely on Tang Hao. Instead, he leveraged his cute appearance and charmed the kindest man in Holy Soul Village—Old Jack.
The old man's generosity was genuine, and thanks to him, Tang San grew up far healthier than in the original timeline.
Still, he refused to take without giving. Every meal came with labor—gathering firewood, massaging Old Jack's back, or doing chores. It was equivalent exchange, a matter of principle.
For a year, he stayed close to Old Jack—until a scowling Tang Hao dragged him home, suspicious the childless elder was trying to steal his son as a grandson.
After that, Tang San returned nightly but struck a deal: he'd still help Old Jack, and Tang Hao wouldn't interfere. Over time, the village chief became more of a guardian to him than his own father.
"Cough! Cough!"
Old Jack's ranting ended in a fit of coughing.
"Grandpa Jack, are you okay? Don't worry—I'll never be like him."
Tang San, now finished eating, quickly patted the old man's back—perhaps a bit too hard.
"Ouch! That's rough, boy!"
Flushing, Tang San fetched water, and Old Jack gulped it down gratefully.
"Much better."
"I'll go gather firewood now." Tang San washed the bowl, then paused at the door. "Brother Tao is coming this afternoon to awaken the martial souls of the village children, right?"
"You rascal! Just because Master Su Yuntao favored you two years ago doesn't mean you can address him so casually. It's 'Master' to you!"
Despite the scolding, Old Jack was smiling. He tucked two boiled eggs into Tang San's pockets before shooing him off.