Jiang Chen suddenly frowned. Something didn't sit right.
"Grandpa Jack," he asked, suspicion creeping into his tone, "did you… forget me? If I hadn't asked about the awakening ceremony just now, were you not going to tell me at all?"
Old Jack coughed awkwardly a few times, covering his embarrassment. "When people get old, their memory starts playing tricks on them, you know how it is…"
Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow but didn't press. "Fine, I'll be there on time the day after tomorrow."
"Go on, go, go," Old Jack waved his hand as if trying to shoo away the awkwardness.
Once Jiang Chen turned the corner and disappeared from sight, Old Jack quickly unlocked the gate and happily brought the fish inside. He examined the ten-catty catch with a satisfied grin.
"I didn't misjudge him back then… Xiao Chen really is a good boy."
Jiang Chen had been delivering wild game to Old Jack for years now. Nutritious and fresh — a small gesture, but it warmed the old man's heart every time.
A little distance away, Jiang Chen's keen ears caught the murmured praise, and a small smile appeared on his otherwise sharp and handsome face.
Clang… Clang… Clang…
The rhythmic sound of iron striking metal echoed faintly across the village.
Jiang Chen stopped walking, his gaze drifting toward a cluster of simple adobe houses. The central one had a wooden sign with a crude hammer painted on it.
Tang San's home.
He knew Tang San was probably practicing blacksmithing — after all, that lazy drunkard Tang Hao never got up before noon.
Jiang Chen never got close to that house. He was the only one in the entire village who knew who Tang Hao really was — a former Titled Douluo, one of the strongest soul masters to ever live.
Back when Tang Hao had just stepped into the realm of Titled Douluo, he single-handedly crushed the top experts of the Spirit Hall and even beat their Pope to near death.
If someone like him thought Jiang Chen was a cursed being like the other villagers did… well, a single hammer strike would be enough to end him.
Back home, Jiang Chen roasted and devoured the rest of the fish, then fell asleep.
This was his daily rhythm. He didn't train during the day — it wasn't the right time for his technique. Aside from eating and drinking, he mostly stayed indoors and slept.
Only when the sun dipped beyond the horizon did he stir.
After a simple dinner, he leapt lightly onto the roof, lying back with his hands behind his head as he watched the sky darken.
Eventually, the sun vanished completely, and a silver moon rose into the sky.
Night — his time — had come.
Jiang Chen sat up and began cultivating.
Facing the rising moon, he activated the Heavenly Corpse Transformation. As the technique began to circulate, strands of silvery-white moonlight — invisible to ordinary eyes — descended from the sky and merged into his body.
His pupils darkened to an obsidian black.
His fingernails grew rapidly, sharp and gleaming, over an inch long.
Two small white canine teeth slowly extended from his upper jaw, poking past his lips. On someone else, they'd look monstrous — but on Jiang Chen's handsome face, they gave him a strange, eerie charm.
A sinister black aura — like it had crawled out from the depths of the Nine Serenities Hell — leaked from his body, curling around him like mist.
His small figure flickered within the dark energy, both eerie and majestic.
And yet — he felt at peace.
Bathed in moonlight, Jiang Chen was completely immersed in his cultivation.
Caw—caw—caw…
Rooster cries marked the approach of dawn.
Jiang Chen slowly opened his eyes, ending his practice session for the night.
Just then, he saw Tang San hurrying out of the village entrance, heading toward his usual training spot on the mountain.
Rain or shine, Tang San never skipped a day. He had been like that for three years straight.
Jiang Chen couldn't help but shake his head in admiration. "What a little monster."
But deep down, he respected Tang San's tenacity.
His own journey… had been far rougher.
When he was just over a year old, Jiang Chen had recovered the memories of his past life. Not long after, a strange cultivation method appeared in his mind — the Heavenly Corpse Transformation.
Even the name sounded ominous.
He'd been cautious at first. A cultivation method used by corpses? That had to be a joke, right? He was alive, not a zombie.
Still, he didn't rush. He spent the next year quietly learning the local language, familiarizing himself with this world.
Eventually, he learned the name of the place he was in: Douluo Continent.
As a former Earthling and a die-hard web novel fan, Jiang Chen had naturally read Douluo Dalu. This was a fantastical land, one where people could literally become gods.
And who wouldn't want that?
But he still didn't dare to casually practice something as strange as the Heavenly Corpse Transformation.
Then he saw Tang San — the Son of Heaven's Luck — quietly and diligently cultivating on the mountain every day.
It was a wake-up call.
Tang San, blessed by fate and guided by secret techniques, worked so hard… and what did Jiang Chen have?
Nothing but a creepy technique etched into his soul.
He had no golden finger, no powerful backer. Just this one method.
He made a decision: he would cultivate.
And so began his dark transformation.
The Heavenly Corpse Transformation was, without a doubt, powerful. It gave him strength, speed, awareness — but it came at a cost.
He became… inhuman.
His aura turned sinister. The villagers started calling him a plague, an omen. His very presence brought fear. Worst of all, he couldn't control the corpse poison inside him.
Whenever that poison leaked out — which it often did — it sent the entire village into panic.
Even worse, once he started, he couldn't stop.
If he did, the Heavenly Corpse Transformation would backfire, and he'd truly become a monster — a soulless, bloodthirsty zombie.
In his darkest moments, he secretly drank the blood of poultry just to suppress the cravings.
But over time, Jiang Chen came to terms with his new existence. If becoming a god was the endgame, did happiness really matter?
Recently, though, he'd hit a bottleneck.
No matter how much moonlight he absorbed, the energy in his body wouldn't grow. He could feel it clearly — the next step was the first spirit ring.
Just like Tang San, he had reached the limits of what could be achieved without a martial soul.
Which brought him back to tomorrow.
The Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony.
He already had a powerful technique. If he could awaken an equally strong martial soul…
Then he would no longer just compete with Tang San — he might even surpass him.
He clenched his fists.
Everything… depends on tomorrow.