“Brother, wake up, wake up!”
Ning Chuan felt his shoulders being shaken vigorously by a pair of small hands, accompanied by a clear and urgent child’s voice in his ear.
With great effort, he opened his heavy eyelids, revealing a simple yet tidy wooden cabin.
Sunlight filtered through the cracks of the wooden window, casting mottled shadows on the earthen floor.
A little girl of about five or six stood by the bed, her hair tied in two small braids, her bright, large eyes filled with anxiety.
“Don’t make noise, let me sleep for another quarter of an hour…” Ning Chuan mumbled drowsily, turning over to continue sleeping.
He had stayed up writing until three in the morning last night and was now so tired he could barely keep his eyes open.
Seeing that she couldn’t wake Ning Chuan, the girl stomped her foot angrily and ran outside.
Ning Chuan vaguely heard her clear voice: “Mom, I tried to wake Brother, but he won’t get up!”
Then, a robust woman’s voice roared: “Ning Dazhuang!
What time is it, and you’re still fiddling with your carpentry!
If you delay our children’s Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony, just see how I deal with you!”
“Ah, yes, dear, I’ll go wake that brat up right away,” a timid man’s voice replied.
Heavy footsteps approached, and a burly middle-aged man walked into the room.
Ning Dazhuang saw his son still sprawled on the bed, fast asleep, and felt a surge of anger.
He had repeatedly reminded him yesterday to wake up early for the Martial Soul Awakening, and now he was getting scolded because of it.
Ning Dazhuang stepped forward and pinched the ear of the boy on the bed.
The sudden pain completely shattered Ning Chuan’s pleasant dream.
He snapped his eyes open to see a rugged face with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a stubbly beard glaring at him angrily.
“Dad?” Ning Chuan instinctively called out, then froze.
This wasn’t his father’s face.
A flood of unfamiliar memories rushed in…
Fasnuo Province, Notting City, Holy Soul Village, father Ning Dazhuang, mother Liu Lan, little sister Ning Xiaohe…
Village Chief Jack, the slovenly blacksmith Tang Hao, and his solitary, reclusive son Tang San…
Ning Chuan screamed inwardly: I’ve transmigrated to the fantasy world of Douluo Dalu!
“Brat, what are you spacing out for?
Don’t you know what day it is today?
All the six-year-old children in the village have to attend the Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony!” Seeing Ning Chuan’s dazed expression, Ning Dazhuang grew both anxious and angry.
“Hurry up and get washed and eat breakfast!”
Only then did Ning Chuan fully wake up, scrambling out of bed in a hurry.
Looking at his own small hands and feet, it was clearly the body of a five- or six-year-old child.
It seemed he hadn’t just transmigrated but had also become young again.
“I’m up, I’m up,” Ning Chuan quickly replied, afraid of getting pinched again.
Outside, mother Liu Lan had already set out a simple breakfast: a few coarse grain buns, a pot of porridge, and a small plate of pickles.
Little sister Ning Xiaohe was already sitting at the table, sipping her porridge in small mouthfuls.
When she saw Ning Chuan come out, she stuck her tongue out at him.
“Hurry up and eat.
Village Chief Jack will be here to call for you soon,” Liu Lan urged.
Though her tone was urgent, she still carefully placed the largest bun in front of Ning Chuan.
Ning Chuan mechanically ate his breakfast, his mind in complete turmoil.
I actually crossed over to the Douluo Continent, becoming an ordinary child in Holy Soul Village.
According to the original story, today is the day for Martial Soul awakening.
Tang San would awaken his Twin Martial Souls on this day, while he himself…
Ning Chuan tried hard to recall the memories of this body, only to find that the original owner seemed to be a minor character with average talent, not even appearing by name in the original work.
This meant he was likely just an extra, and the Martial Soul he awakened would probably be something like a hoe or sickle—a Waste Martial Soul, forever unable to become a Soul Master.
Thinking of this, Ning Chuan’s heart sank.
In this world of survival of the fittest, lacking strength meant being at the mercy of others.
He didn’t want to spend his whole life farming in Holy Soul Village or living an ordinary life as an apprentice in Notting City.
“What are you spacing out for?
Hurry up and eat!” Seeing Ning Chuan distracted, Ning Dazhuang couldn’t help but urge him.
Ning Chuan forced a smile and sped up his eating.
Just then, Ning Chuan suddenly felt a strange vibration deep in his mind, as if something was awakening.
“Brother, what’s wrong?” Ning Xiaohe noticed Ning Chuan’s face suddenly turning pale and asked with concern.
“N-nothing.” Ning Chuan shook his head, but the sensation grew stronger and stronger.
Suddenly, a cold, mechanical voice sounded directly in his mind: “All-Heavens Garbage Recycling Station binding successful…”