Heaven Dou Empire, southwestern border, Holy Soul Village.
Just as dawn was breaking, the eastern horizon began to lighten with the first hint of morning.
On a small hill near Holy Soul Village, a young, frail figure had already appeared.
It was a three-year-old child.
His skin was slightly tanned from frequent exposure to the furnace's heat. His short, black hair was neatly trimmed, and though his clothes were worn, they were clean.
Despite his age, he climbed the hill without flushing or panting, appearing completely at ease.
Reaching the summit, he sat down, his eyes fixed on the eastern sky. He inhaled slowly through his nose, then exhaled gently.
He was practicing his unique breathing technique.
Suddenly, his eyes widened as a surge of purple energy erupted from the brightening horizon.
The appearance of the purple energy sharpened his focus.
After a short while, when the purple mist dissipated, the boy slowly closed his eyes.
A stream of white, turbid air, like a bolt of lightning, poured from his mouth before gradually dissipating.
When Tang San opened his eyes again, a faint purple glow flickered in his pupils.
"Time to head back."
Tang San glanced at the sky.
His slender frame leaped into the air and he raced down the mountain.
He had been in this world for three years.
At just over a year old, he had begun cultivating the Profound Heaven Art, and he was still laying the foundation.
On the western edge of Holy Soul Village, at the village entrance, stood three simple mud-brick houses—Tang San's home.
On the roof of the central mud-brick house hung a wooden sign about a meter in diameter, crudely painted with a hammer.
This was his family's blacksmith shop.
As the village's only blacksmith, his family shouldn't have been so poor.
But most of their meager earnings went toward buying wine.
The moment Tang San entered the house, he was greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of breakfast he had cooked himself.
Lately, even though he couldn't reach the stove, he had taken on the responsibility of cooking to ensure he had enough to eat.
Grabbing a chipped bowl, he climbed onto a stool and lifted the lid of the pot.
A fragrant rice aroma wafted out. The porridge inside had already cooked to a soft, mushy consistency.
Carefully, he ladled two bowls of porridge, each grain of rice clearly visible, and placed them on the table. He called out to the inner room:
"Dad, it's time to eat."
After a long moment, the curtain of the inner room lifted, and Tang Hao stumbled out.
He raised his clouded eyes to scan Tang San, his gaze dull and yellowish.
He raised a large hand to rub his messy bird's nest hair, sending a few crumbs fluttering onto the table.
Tang San couldn't help but frown.
But he said nothing more. He didn't want to get kicked—Tang Hao never washed his feet.
Nor did he want his face rubbed raw.
From the moment he opened his eyes, Tang San had never known what fatherly love was. Tang Hao had always ignored him completely.
Their home was so poor they didn't even have proper furniture. Just getting enough to eat was a struggle. The main reason was that Tang Hao spent his meager earnings as a blacksmith on alcohol.
But Tang San didn't resent him. He didn't pry into Tang Hao's affairs or try to change him.
This was fine. It allowed him to practice his cultivation every day without Tang Hao noticing.
Tang Hao gulped down the hot porridge in large mouthfuls, as if he couldn't feel the temperature.
His peripheral vision, however, remained fixed on Tang San.
After finishing, he returned to his room.
The sun shone brightly over Martial Soul City.
In a secluded training ground shaded by trees, a handsome young man sat cross-legged.
He wore white robes, and a longsword forged from fine iron stood planted beside him.
His handsome, youthful face was beaded with crystal droplets of sweat.
Falling leaves drifted down, settling on his shoulders.
Having finished his sword practice, Qian Renjue had been meditating beneath the tree for some time.
A refreshing breeze swept through the air, but an unusual fluctuation of Soul Power completely blocked it.
Buzz!
The leaves on his shoulders suddenly flew into the air.
Soul Power surged from within Qian Renjue's body, pouring out like a raging torrent.
"Huuu..."
Exhaling deeply, Qian Renjue opened his eyes, a smile spreading across his face.
"Now Mother should finally agree, right?"
"Congratulations, Holy Son, on breaking through to Level 50! That's a new record!"
A clear, gentle voice echoed in Qian Renjue's ears.
"Sister Qian Renxue set the Soul King record. I still have a long way to go." Qian Renjue shook his head.
The thought of finally being able to visit Qian Renxue brightened his smile even further.
He looked up toward the source of the voice, only to freeze. His fair, handsome face flushed slightly, and he sighed, covering his forehead with his hand.
"Sister Lingyuan, you shouldn't stand so high up in that skirt," he grumbled.
Pfft!
A soft giggle drifted down from the tree.
Lingyuan Douluo, clad in a flowing black gown that danced in the breeze, leaned against the trunk, her arms crossed over her chest.
Her face flushed, she lowered her gaze to Qian Renjue.
A smile played on her lips. "As you command, Your Highness, the Holy Son."
Her words faded.
Lingyuan Douluo floated gracefully to the ground, drew the longsword, and knelt on one knee.
She said respectfully, "Your Highness, your sword."
"..."
Qian Renjue rolled his eyes. "Sister Lingyuan, I've told you countless times—you don't need to keep bowing."
"That won't do. Your Majesty would disapprove." Lingyuan Douluo shook her head gently, her ample figure swaying slightly. Her brown eyes held a soft warmth. "Even though Your Highness treats me kindly, duty is duty."
"Even so, it's still too much," Qian Renjue muttered, quickly rising to retrieve the longsword.
"Pfft... I think it's just right," Lingyuan chuckled, slowly standing up and retrieving Qian Renjue's coat from the tree branch. "Your Highness, are we heading to the Papal Hall next?"
"Yes. Now that I've broken through level fifty, it's time to hunt for a soul ring. I should discuss it with Mother first." Qian Renjue smiled and nodded slightly.
A gentle breeze rustled his waist-length golden hair, and the sweat on his handsome face had dried. His high nose bridge and well-defined features, though still youthful, possessed a rugged charm. His height, nearing six feet, was tall and well-proportioned.
Lingyuan Douluo couldn't help but stare, smoothing a stray strand of hair from her cheek.
"Your Highness's smile is truly quite charming."
"Let's go, Sister Lingyuan. You'll have to put in a good word for me later."
Qian Renjue chuckled as he walked ahead, glancing back at Lingyuan for help.
A look of difficulty flashed across Lingyuan Douluo's beautiful face.
She forced a bitter smile. "Your Highness, please don't make things difficult for Lingyuan. Just concealing the fact that you used your Martial Soul is enough to earn me a death sentence from Your Majesty."
"Heh, alright."
Qian Renjue gave a guilty, dry laugh.
"Still, I must thank Sister Lingyuan for sparring with me."
"It's my duty, Your Highness."
Lingyuan Douluo smiled, carrying Qian Renjue's clothes as she followed closely behind.
Over the past two years, Lingyuan had become more like a Sword Servant or older sister than a bodyguard.
Ever since that day when Qian Renjue woke from his nap to find Lingyuan lying on the floor beneath his bed, her protection had been limited to the open.
This, of course, meant she could do more.
She sparred with him, chatted with him, cared for him, and even openly monitored him.
Bibi Dong knew every detail of Qian Renjue's daily life.
In her reports, Lingyuan had also learned a great deal about Bibi Dong's parenting techniques, making caring for Qian Renjue second nature.
Soon, Qian Renjue and Lingyuan Douluo arrived at the quiet Papal Hall.
May your lives be filled with joy!
...
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