In a Dark room a young man with avrage features lay down on his bed holding a steam deck above his head.
The glowing screen flickered with aggressive pop-up banners promising Hot Spirit Masters in Your Area while the bootleg stream of Douluo Dalu 2: Unravel Tang Sect buffered for the tenth time.
Tapping the glass to bypass a sketchy redirect, he glanced at the top corner of the device.
His battery icon flashed a desperate crimson at two percent.
“Honestly,” he muttered to himself, “what’s the worst that could happen?” He pressed the ad.
A blinding flash erupted from the trackpads, smelling faintly of ozone and burning lithium.
The world dissolved into a whirlpool of swirling violet light, dragging his consciousness into the dark void.
Fragments of asphalt roads, glowing metal carriages with four rubber wheels, and endless neon signs floated through his mind.
He saw a shadowy figure sitting at a desk, staring into a glowing glass rectangle, laughing, crying, and living a completely different existence.
“Brother…
Brother, wake up!” A gentle tug on his sleeve shattered the dream like fragile glass.
Xu Xuandong blinked his eyes open, the strange, fleeting phantom memories fading back into the deep recesses of his mind.
Sitting beside him on the velvet bed was his twin sister, Xu Xia, her large amber eyes filled with quiet concern.
“Were you having that weird dream again?” she asked softly.
Xuandong rubbed his eyes and offered a reassuring smile, nodding slightly.
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it.
It’s nothing.” Xu Xia reached out, wrapping her small fingers around his hand to pull him up.
“Come on!
Today is the day!
Everyone is waiting in the Awakening Hall!” They walked together down the grand, gold-trimmed corridors of the Sun Moon Imperial Palace.
Upon entering the Awakening Hall, the sheer weight of the atmosphere hit them instantly.
Seated upon the main thrones was their father, Emperor Xu, radiating imperial majesty, and sitting beside him was their mother, the Empress.
Standing silently right behind the Emperor was an elderly man enveloped in a faint, radiant holy aura—Ye Guan, a Rank 96 Super Douluo and the Guardian of the Empire.
Nearby stood the Emperor’s brother, Prince Xu Gongfeng, looking on with sharp, expectant eyes.
On the opposite side of the central dais stood Hall Master Kong Deming, the current head of the Illustrious Virtue Hall, accompanied by his Vice-Hall Master, Jiang Hongchen.
Flanking the vast perimeter were dozens of high-ranking nobles, royal relatives, and court officials, all eager to witness the potential of the next generation.
“Forgive us for being late, Father,” Xuandong said, stepping forward alongside Xu Xia with a respectful bow.
Emperor Xu chuckled warmly, waving his hand dismissively.
“It is fine, my children.
You are just in time; we were about to begin anyway.” In the center of the hall sat a sleek, intricate array constructed entirely of silver spirit metals and glowing blue conduits—a specialized Soul Tool designed specifically for martial soul awakenings.
Under Emperor Xu’s progressive rule, these state-of-the-art awakening devices had been mass-produced and made mandatory across every major city in the Sun Moon Empire, allowing commoner children to awaken their martial souls completely free of charge.
Several noble children were called up first, stepping into the metallic circle as soft energy hummed through the floor, registering modest beast and tool souls with average soul power ranks.
Next, a young boy with bright golden hair stepped up.
His sharp facial features bore a striking seventy percent resemblance to the holy elder standing behind the Emperor.
As the Soul Tool hummed to life, a blinding wave of light erupted, manifesting a majestic, multi-winged angelic shadow behind him.
“Innate Soul Power Rank 7!
Martial Soul: Holy Angel!” the proctor announced.
“As expected of Ye Xing,” a noble whispered from the crowd.
“He is, after all, the grandson of Senior Ye Guan, our empire’s Rank 96 Guardian.” Soon after, a purple-haired boy stepped onto the array with an arrogant smirk.
The moment the energy touched him, a violent, tyrannical purple aura erupted outward.
The thunderous roar of a dragon echoed through the hall as scales rippled across his arms.
“Innate Soul Power Rank 8!
Martial Soul: Purple Brilliant Heaven Destroying Dragon!” Prince Xu Gongfeng smiled proudly as his son, Xu Tianran, stepped down from the platform, tossing a glance at the remaining royals.
Next was Xu Xia’s turn.
She stepped into the array, taking a deep breath.
A soft, radiant yellow light enveloped her, and fluttering from her palms was a delicate, glowing butterfly that radiated gentle thermal light.
“Innate Soul Power Rank 5!
Martial Soul: Sun Butterfly!” Xu Xia beamed, retreating to the side as she motioned for her twin brother.
Finally, Xu Xuandong stepped into the center of the silver Soul Tool array.
As the spirit guidance conduits ignited, an overbearing dual energy surged through his meridians.
From his left hand, the terrifying, destructive pressure of a purple dragon erupted, dragon scales manifesting along his arm—the imperial bloodline’s Purple Brilliant Heaven Destroying Dragon.
But simultaneously, his right palm felt strangely heavy.
A sleek, dark metallic rectangle with thumbsticks, trackpads, and a dark glass screen materialized—the Steam Deck.
The moment both martial souls fully manifested, the dam holding back his hidden memories completely shattered.
Twenty-plus years of memories as an ordinary human from Earth—playing video games, watching anime, living a full life—flooded his six-year-old brain at once.
The sheer volume of incoming information overloaded his conscious mind in an instant.
Xu Xuandong’s eyes rolled back, his dual martial souls vanishing as his body limped and collapsed toward the cold stone floor.
The entire hall gasped in sudden shock at the Crown Prince falling unconscious, but before anyone else could even react, a flash of holy light crossed the room.
Ye Guan, the empire’s protector, appeared instantly beside the boy, catching Xu Xuandong safely in his arms before he hit the ground.
Xu Xuandong slowly opened his eyes to find a sea of anxious faces hovering over his bed.
His parents, Emperor Xu and the Empress, stood closest, their eyes filled with visible worry.
Flanking them were his six sisters: his eldest sister, his twin elder sisters, his own twin sister Xu Xia, and his three younger triplet sisters.
A total of seven sisters, all staring at him with varying degrees of concern—his youngest brother, Xu He, was not even born yet.
“Xuandong, my boy!
Are you alright?” Emperor Xu asked, leaning in close.
“I’m fine, Father…” Xuandong rasped, rubbing his head.
“It was just…
my martial soul put too much pressure on me when it awakened.” A collective sigh of relief washed over the room.
“Thank goodness,” the Empress murmured, stroking his forehead.
“Show us, son.
What kind of martial soul caused such a commotion?” Xuandong raised his right hand.
Energy coalesced, and a sleek, dark metallic rectangle materialized in his palm—the Steam Deck.
His family leaned in, examining the thumbsticks, trackpads, and black glass screen with utterly bewildered expressions.
“What…
is it?” his eldest sister whispered, tilting her head.
“I…
I don’t really know,” Xuandong lied smoothly.
“It clearly bears the structural characteristics of a Soul Tool,” Emperor Xu mused, stroking his chin.
“Yet it possesses no recognizable core formation or spirit guidance conduits.
Fascinating.” “Don’t worry yourself over it, Xuandong,” his mother reassured him with a warm smile.
“Many strange variant tool souls exist.
You will likely understand its function once you absorb your first soul ring.” Xuandong nodded weakly.
“Thank you, Mother.
I…
I think I just need some rest.” Understanding his exhaustion, his family offered words of comfort and quietly filed out of the royal chambers, leaving him in total silence.
Left alone, Xuandong sank into deep thought.
The dam had broken, and twenty-plus years of memories as an Earthling, gamer, and livestreamer flooded his conscious mind, throwing his sense of self into a violent tailspin.
He remembered riding the crowded subways of Earth, hanging out at bustling shopping malls with high school friends, laughing over late-night Discord calls, and spending rainy Sunday afternoons playing board games around the dining table with his former family.
Yet, as he closed his eyes, another set of vivid memories clashed directly against them.
He remembered grueling morning lessons studying royal etiquette alongside his sisters, watching with wide-eyed fascination as his elder sisters etched delicate spirit array circuits into metal to build soul tools, plotting chaotic pranks with his twin sister Xu Xia to splash water on their eldest sister, and peaceful afternoons sitting on the riverbank fishing with his imperial grandfather.
Who am I?
he thought, panic clawing at his chest.
Am I an Earthling who dreamed he was a prince, or a prince who dreamed he was an Earthling?
Which one is the real me?
Trembling, Xuandong opened his left hand, igniting the violent, tyrannical purple scales of the Purple Brilliant Heaven Destroying Dragon.
In his right hand, the sleek metallic frame of the Steam Deck hummed quietly.
One hand held his past as a gamer from Earth; the other held his current life as Sun Moon royalty.
He stared deeply at both hands, the weight of two lives resting in his palms.
A calm quiet settled over his heart as a single phrase surfaced in his mind.
“Cogito, ergo sum,” Xuandong whispered softly into the empty room.
“I don’t remember who said it, but I understand now…
This is my life.
I am both a gamer and a prince.” He paused, a tiny, self-deprecating smirk tugging at his lips.
“No, wait…
wasn’t that said by Emperor Roselle?
Ah, who cares if it’s wrong.” Thanks to six full years of living, breathing, and loving in this world, he didn’t view the Douluo Continent as a flat, two-dimensional web novel or an anime script.
This was a real world, populated by real people, and the family outside his door was his family.
That realization firmly anchored his soul, giving him an unshakeable sense of self.
“Heh…
quite a profound expression for a six-year-old.” A soft, amused chuckle echoed from the shadows.
Xuandong snapped his head toward the window to see the elderly, radiant figure of Ye Guan standing there quietly.
“I like the look in your eyes, child,” Ye Guan said, stepping into the ambient light.
“You no longer look lost.
You’ve found your identity.” Internally, the Rank 96 Super Douluo was utterly baffled.
An identity crisis?
In a six-year-old child?
Such existential doubt usually only strikes old men undergoing a mid-life crisis!
Xuandong narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.
“It’s rude to walk into a prince’s bedroom without knocking, Senior.” Ye Guan chuckled softly and bowed his head slightly.
“Apologies, Your Highness.
I shall make sure to knock next time.” “I need to rest,” Xuandong said, attempting to brush the old powerhouse off.
Ye Guan smiled warmly, but his sharp eyes remained fixed on the boy.
“Before I go…
what is the innate rank of that strange Soul Tool martial soul of yours?” Xuandong’s heart tightened.
He knew his secret was out—the Super Douluo had felt the dual awakening on the dais—but he wasn’t sure if the old man was testing his honesty or genuinely asking about the device’s soul power.
Summoning the Steam Deck once more, Xuandong feigned innocence.
“It’s just rank 7.” Ye Guan nodded slowly, a subtle, unreadable glint passing through his eyes.
“Rank 7…
Your uncle, Prince Xu Gongfeng, will certainly be glad to hear that.” Xuandong’s heart instantly sank into his stomach.
On the surface, it sounded like a compliment—that his uncle would be proud of his nephew’s talent.
But with his knowledge of the future, Xuandong recognized it for what it truly was: a silent, chilling warning.
The moment he was perceived as a genuine threat to his uncle’s faction, Xu Tianran and Xu Gongfeng would have him quietly eliminated.
Ye Guan remained silent for a moment, observing the young prince’s micro-expressions, before adding softly, “At least…
you possess far more caution than your father.” Xuandong looked up, meeting the elder’s gaze directly.
“Why are you telling me this, Senior?” The old guardian let out a long, heavy sigh.
“The political situation within the court is far more complicated than you can fathom, child.
Do not worry about it for now.
Just focus on cultivating and becoming stronger.” Before Xuandong could ask another question, Ye Guan’s body dissolved into a blinding pillar of pure, golden light, vanishing into thin air without leaving a trace.
Yet, a calm, resounding voice echoed directly within Xuandong’s mind: ‘Rest easy, Little Prince.
I made sure no one else in the hall saw your second martial soul.’ Xu Xuandong lay back on the soft silk mattress, staring quietly up at the intricate floral carvings on the ceiling.
Now that his mind was clear, his inner database as a former reader kicked into overdrive, systematically dissecting the timeline of the world he now inhabited.
His youngest brother, Xu He, had not been born yet.
His mother was either in the early stages of pregnancy or the boy would be born within the next year or two.
Over in the Star Luo Empire, Huo Yuhao was not even a sperm in his father.
I have roughly ten years, Xuandong calculated, his eyes narrowing in the dim light.
Ten years before my uncle launches his bloody coup.
In the original timeline, Xu Tianran—backed by Prince Xu Gongfeng and the insidious Holy Ghost Church—executed a ruthless purge.
They assassinated Emperor Xu, slaughtered the imperial bloodline, and forced a young Xu He to flee for his life under the alias He Caitou.
Xuandong’s lips twitched in a mixture of fondness and frustration as he thought of his father.
Emperor Xu was a visionary whose progressive policies brought the Sun Moon Empire into a golden era of technology and public welfare.
He mass-produced awakening tools for commoners and elevated their living standards.
But his nobility came at a steep cost: he funded these sweeping social reforms by heavily taxing the aristocrats and noble houses.
While his father gained the absolute love of the masses, he thoroughly alienated the ruling elite.
Ironically, that widespread popular support was the only reason Xuandong’s family was still alive.
If his uncle usurped the throne right now, quelling the inevitable continent-wide civil unrest from the common populace would take decades.
His father’s naivety had unwittingly bought them a decade-long grace period.
Then, his thoughts shifted to Senior Ye Guan, the Rank 96 Super Douluo who had just vanished from his room.
As a reader from Earth, Xuandong knew the hidden history of the Angel Clan.
Ten thousand years ago, after the fall of Spirit Hall during the era of Tang San, the remnant members of the Angel Clan went into hiding to escape persecution from the Three Great Empires of the Douluo Continent.
Five hundred years ago, desperate and hunted, they took a massive gamble and migrated west across the ocean to the Sun Moon Empire.
At the time, the Sun Moon Empire was plagued by rampant Evil Soul Masters.
Xuandong’s grandfather, recognizing that the Holy Angel martial soul was the absolute, ultimate hard-counter to all evil attribute energy, welcomed the clan with open arms.
Together, they established the famed Angel Legion.
Through centuries of bloody, selfless battles against evil forces, the Angel Clan shed their dark past and earned the absolute trust and reverence of the Sun Moon populace.
Wait…
Xuandong’s mind clicked as he remembered a specific canon character: Ye Guyi, the Holy Angel soul master who later joined Tang Sect.
Her backstory in the novel was briefly stated—her entire family had been ruthlessly slaughtered by Evil Soul Masters.
Connecting the dots in real-time sent a cold shiver down Xuandong’s spine.
Prince Xu Gongfeng was already colluding with the Holy Ghost Church.
The Holy Ghost Church needed the Angel Clan eradicated because the Holy Angel martial soul posed a fatal threat to their supreme elders.
Simultaneously, Ye Guan was an immovable wall standing in the way of Xu Gongfeng’s faction taking the throne.
No wonder Senior Ye Guan is secretly looking out for me, Xuandong realized, a sharp glare entering his eyes.
He knows Xu Gongfeng is in bed with the Evil Soul Masters.
My uncle is an existential threat to both the Imperial family and the Angel Clan.
To survive this shark tank, Xuandong needed a master strategy.
He couldn’t act like a hyper-talented prodigy; doing so would only fast-track his assassination by his uncle’s men.
I need to play the long game, he mused.
Just like Xue Beng from Heaven Dou Empire ten thousand years ago.
In the original Douluo Dalu, Prince Xue Beng avoided being poisoned by Qian Renxue by acting like an arrogant, useless, uneducated playboy for over a decade.
He hid his sharpness, played the fool, and allowed everyone to lower their guard until the perfect moment arrived to claim the throne.
Xuandong resolved to adopt the exact same mask.
To the court, he would be nothing more than an unambitious royal brat who played with strange soul tools all day.
Finally, his thoughts turned to the neutral titan of the empire: Hall Master Kong Deming.
Currently, Kong Deming was the head of the Illustrious Virtue Hall, with Jiang Hongchen serving as his vice-master.
In canon, Kong Deming eventually became the imperial protector—a title currently held by Ye Guan.
That meant Kong Deming only stepped into the role of Guardian after Ye Guan’s future death.
Was Kong Deming secretly allied with Xu Gongfeng, or was he a true neutral who only took command to prevent the empire from collapsing into total chaos after Ye Guan fell?
Evaluating his actions from the canon timeline, Xuandong leaned toward the latter.
Kong Deming was likely a pure loyalist to the Sun Moon Empire itself, caring only for stability and technological progress.
But one thing was crystal clear: he was certainly not on his father’s side.
Xuandong let out a long, weary sigh, pulling the heavy velvet blanket up over his shoulders.
“What a complete and utter mess…” he muttered into the dark, quiet bedroom.
Closing his eyes, he let the exhaustion of two lives take over, drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.