Chương 1: Chapter 1: Mist and Destiny
Six years before the birth of Tang San
In a village perched atop a hill, life went on with the tranquility of daily routine. Families gathered in their homes as twilight cast shadows across the sky and the first lights of the houses began to glow in the impending darkness.
Suddenly, a thick and mysterious fog began to slip through the streets and houses of the village, like a silent cloak hiding everything in its path. The villagers, accustomed to the whims of the weather, didn't pay much attention to it, until a soft but insistent tapping resonated at the door of the village chief.
The chief, a robust man with a kind gaze, frowned upon hearing the unexpected sound. He rose and approached the door, wondering who it could be at that hour and in such fog. Upon opening it, he found no one, just the swirling fog as if hiding secrets. But his gaze fell upon a wooden cradle resting right on the threshold of his home.
Inside the cradle, wrapped in blankets, lay a child with curious eyes who looked at him without crying. Next to him, an ancient-looking ring and a plate made of a material that seemed like iron, engraved with an unknown name.
The village chief, still frowning, looked around, hoping to find some clue as to who could have left the child there. "But who can have the heart to leave a newborn child here?" he murmured with anger and concern.
There was no one else in sight, only the fog continued to dance silently. Resigned and with a sigh, the chief decided to take the cradle in his arms and said, "Well then, I shall take it as a gift from the gods." A smile formed on his face as his finger gently caressed the child's cheek, who looked at him with large, attentive eyes.
With the child now in his arms, the village chief turned around, entered his house, and closed the door behind him, leaving behind the fog and the mystery of that night. What he did not know was that this child would change the fate of the village and perhaps, the entire world of "Douluo Dalu."
6 years later
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, bathing the hill and the village of BaHun Zhuang with its first golden rays. In the stillness of dawn, one could see the figure of a child running with inexhaustible energy around the hill, his silhouette outlined against the sky that was slowly being tinged with warm colors.
His long hair, dark as the night, waved behind him, tied in a ponytail that reached halfway down his back. The absence of a shirt revealed well-defined muscles, the result of years of rigorous training, giving him the appearance of a young Greek god carved from living stone. Each muscle contracted and relaxed with a grace that defied his young age.
"One hundred! This is the last lap!" he exclaimed with determination, his voice resonating in the fresh morning air. His feet barely touched the ground as he entered the forest surrounding the hill, moving with supernatural agility. He jumped over fallen logs and dodged trees with ease that could only come from daily practice and dedication.
The forest became a blur of greens and browns as he continued his run, each step a dance between the shadows and the light filtering through the canopy of leaves. At specific moments, his body launched into somersaults over natural obstacles, his hands briefly touching the ground before propelling himself back into the air.
He slid under low branches with feline grace, his body bending and twisting in a display of physical prowess. The sound of his breathing mixed with the song of the birds and the whisper of the leaves, creating a symphony of life and movement.
Upon reaching an ancient wooden bridge that crossed a murmuring stream, his steps echoed on the structure, each wooden plank vibrating under the controlled weight of his run. Without slowing down, he crossed the bridge and continued the path back to the village, his figure a blurry spot for any casual observer.
The morning training was a dance he had perfected over the years, a routine that kept him in tune with his body and his surroundings. As he approached BaHun Zhuang, the child slowed down, allowing his body to cool down gradually.
As the boy ascended the stone path of the hill, he crossed paths with other villagers who, upon seeing him, quickly stepped out of his way. Despite his youth, his presence seemed to impose an invisible distance between him and the rest of the inhabitants of BaHun Zhuang.
As he passed by, the murmur of two women broke the morning silence. "I don't know why the village chief picked him up," said one disdainfully. "He should have been left in the forest for the wolves to eat," added the other, with a cruel laugh.
Their words were like thorns in the air, and although the boy could hear them clearly, his expression remained unchanged. However, for a fleeting moment, a spark of murderous intent shone in his eyes, a dark flash that revealed the inner storm he struggled to contain. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished; the boy took a deep breath, expelling any hint of anger, and continued on his way with the same determination as always.
The hurtful comments continued behind him, but he left them behind, along with the shadows of the morning. They were nothing but a distant echo against the strength of his indomitable spirit.
Approaching the center of the village, two buildings rose above the rest, ostentatious and well-maintained. Without hesitation, the boy headed towards the one on the left, a place he knew well.
Entering the house, Xue Sha left behind the bustle of the village and the freshness of the morning air. "Is the bath ready?" he asked, heading towards the interior of the dwelling.
From the kitchen, where the village chief was busy preparing food, came an affirmative response. "Yes, you can go in," said the chief, his voice blending with the sizzle of food on the fire.
With a nod, Xue Sha headed to the bathroom. The wooden door closed behind him, and the sound of water filled the room. Time passed, marked by the steady rhythm of drops falling on the calm surface of the water.
Thirty minutes later, Xue Sha emerged from the bathroom, his loose and damp hair reflecting the light that seeped through the window slats. He wore comfortable clothing, suitable for relaxing after the bath, but practical enough to move freely.
He approached the table where the village chief was already seated, in front of an assortment of dishes with different types of meat, vegetables, and rice. Xue Sha took a seat and began to eat, deftly alternating between the various delicacies with his chopsticks.
Midway through the meal, he looked up at the village chief and said, "Old man, when are they coming to awaken my spirit?"
The village chief, with a mockingly stern look, slammed the table with a fist that made the utensils tremble. "I've told you not to call me that!" he exclaimed, though a smile was peeking through his face.
Xue Sha smiled mischievously and replied, "Old man, you're almost 70 years old, and you're going to tell me you're not old. But let's put that aside, when are they coming?"
The village chief let out a friendly sigh and, resuming his meal, replied, "If I'm not mistaken, they'll arrive tomorrow."
Satisfied with the answer, Xue Sha continued eating, and the conversation faded into the sound of two people enjoying their meal in company.
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