Douluo: When the piano sounds, the hidden weapon returns to the factory

Chapter 1 Old man

Douluo Continent, southwest of the Tiandou Empire, Fasno Province, behind the mountains of Tingquan Village.

After the rain, the mountain air was filled with the fresh scent of earth, and moist bamboo leaves rustled gently in the breeze. A thin figure, wearing a bamboo hat and holding a small hoe, moved through the bamboo forest, digging intently. It was a child, a look of dissatisfaction on his tender face, as he muttered, "Damn you old man! Just for a fortune-teller, you sent me to this hellish place. I have to go up the mountain to find breakfast myself."

His movements were immature, but his eyes were intensely focused. Every swing of his hoe depended on whether he could fill his stomach for the day. Soon, he carefully dug out a fresh bamboo shoot and tossed it into the bamboo basket behind him. The child wiped the sweat from his forehead, sat down on a clean stone, and began peeling the shoot.

Suddenly, he paused, a trace of sadness that didn't match his age appearing on his young face. He raised his head and gazed at the distant sky, his eyes filled with confusion and contemplation.

"The sound of the zither breaks the calamity, the eight trigrams suppress the fortune... What on earth does that old fellow mean?" He murmured in a low voice, as if talking to himself.

His name was Feng Yao, a former music teacher skilled in the guqin (Chinese qin). One day, as he was walking home from get off work across an overpass, he was stopped by an old man who offered to tell his fortune for free. Feng Yao initially disbelieved, but out of courtesy, he patiently listened to the old man's words. His words were rather mystical, but the phrase "qin music dispels calamities, the eight trigrams stabilize destiny" (Guqin) lodged itself in his mind.

However, when he returned home and awoke to sleep, he found himself transformed into a baby. Initially, he thought it was a dream, as illusory as Zhuangzi's dream of a butterfly. But the dream persisted for six years, and he still hadn't woken up. Gradually, he had to accept reality—he had traveled through time.

He was raised by the villagers of Tingquan Village. When he saw the villagers conjure objects from thin air and use them as tools, he realized he had arrived in an extraordinary world. Years later, when he could speak fluently, he finally confirmed his place in the world he was in—Douluo Continent.

It was a novel he had read long ago, and the magical world of cultivation depicted in it had fascinated him deeply. Now, he was actually there, and the arrangement of fate made him feel both helpless and vaguely expectant.

After peeling the bamboo shoots, Feng Yao slowly set up his stance in a clearing in the mountains and began practicing Ba Duan Jin. Though his movements seemed immature, they exuded a calmness and focus. His breathing and movements were perfectly coordinated, as if he had become one with the surrounding nature.

Feng Yao had been in this world for six years, and he had spent those six years meticulously observing every detail of it. During those six years, he had witnessed nearly seventy children awaken their martial spirits. Sadly, not a single one in Tingquan Village had become a spirit master. This result left Feng Yao feeling frustrated, but it also sparked deeper reflection.

He set aside the most significant factor, the martial spirit, and began to search for answers from other angles. His gaze lingered not only on the children whose martial spirits were about to awaken, but also on adults who had already awakened their martial spirits but lacked spiritual power, and even on the village elders. Gradually, he discovered some unusual phenomena.

Most of the village elders lived long lives. Although their living conditions weren't particularly favorable and their medical care wasn't nearly as advanced as in their previous lives, they remained remarkably robust. The adults, when using their martial spirits to labor, exerted little physical exertion, yet their strength far surpassed that of Feng Yao in their previous lives. These phenomena reminded him of Tang San's cultivation of the Xuantian Gong before he awakened his martial spirit in the original novel, suggesting a rich energies flowing freely throughout this world.

Feng Yao always believed that energy was conserved, regardless of the world. Therefore, he would visit the mountains daily, partly to forage for mountain goods and ensure adequate nutrition, and partly because the act of climbing was a form of exercise. More importantly, he firmly believed that without awakening his soul power and being able to cultivate directly, the free energy between heaven and earth might be absorbed into the body through breathing.

Ba Duan Jin was the breakthrough he found. It was also Feng Yao's elective course in college.

This ancient health-preserving technique, emphasizing the coordination of physical movement and breathing, perfectly suited his needs. To possess soul power when his martial spirit awakened, Feng Yao placed his hopes on this daily practice. Although the future was uncertain, this was all he could do for now.

Feng Yao breathed slowly, his movements smooth and flowing, as if blending seamlessly with the surrounding nature. Just as he was about to make his next move, a dry, hoarse, yet slightly anxious voice rang out from afar: "Feng boy, stop playing around! The Master Spirit Master is almost here!"

Feng Yao turned and saw a hunched figure waving at him from a distance. It was Shi Yi, the village chief of Tingquan Village, an elderly but kind man. As the village chief, Shi Yi often took good care of Feng Yao, and Feng Yao was grateful for him.

"Grandpa Shi, I'm right there!" Feng Yao called out, his childish voice tinged with excitement and anticipation. He quickly picked up the bamboo basket and ran towards the old man.

Recently, the Spirit Hall was holding a spirit awakening ceremony for children of appropriate age in the villages near Notting City. Although the Spirit Hall's spirit masters did not have a fixed arrival time, Feng Yao knew that every spring, they would arrive as scheduled, bringing hope to villages like Tingquan Village.

The small figure quickly ran to the old man, Feng Yao reached out and took Shi Yi's slightly withered hand, and said softly: "Grandpa Shi, let's go."

Feeling the warmth of Feng Yao's palm, the old man's cloudy gaze fell on him, and a kind smile appeared on his wrinkled face. He gently tapped Feng Yao's forehead, his tone doting, "Greedy ghost, are you back in the mountains again to get mountain goods? The master soul master is almost here. If you miss it, you'll have to wait until next year."

"Grandpa, eating more can help awaken your soul power." Feng Yao responded with a smile, his eyes flashing with anticipation.

"Oh...haha...okay,okay..." The old man was amused by Feng Yao's words. He smiled and shook his head, thinking it was just a child's innocent wish. He held Feng Yao's hand and slowly walked towards the village.

Feng Yao said nothing more, simply following the old man silently, his heart already churning with emotion. He knew that today might be the crucial moment that changed his fate. Whatever the outcome, he was ready.

Shi Yi, holding Feng Yao's hand, slowly walked along the winding mountain road. Gradually, the outline of a village came into view, and curls of smoke rose, carrying a hint of warmth. The two greeted the villagers along the way, slowly making their way to the wooden house in the center of the village. This wooden house served as the village's "Spirit Hall." While not built by the Spirit Hall itself, the residents of each village voluntarily worked together to build it. For the villagers, this wooden house might be the place where the goddess of luck descended, the starting point for changing their destiny.

The exterior of the wooden house, stained a light brown by time, and the roof covered in thick moss, gave it a quaint, weathered appearance. As Feng Yao approached the cabin, he could hear the chatter of children inside, filled with anticipation and nervousness. Shi Yi stopped and stood outside the cabin with Feng Yao, quietly awaiting the arrival of the Master Spirit Master.

Not long after, a young man carrying a bundle entered the village. He looked to be in his twenties, with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, and a handsome appearance. He was dressed in a white suit with a black cape draped over his back. A fist-sized "Soul" character was embroidered in the center of his chest. This was the standard attire for Spirit Hall personnel, highlighting their status and position.

"Hello, respected Master of the War Soul, thank you for troubling me again." Shi Yi bowed slightly and saluted the young man respectfully. Feng Yao also supported Shi Yi and saluted him.

The young man looked arrogant and simply nodded in return. There was a hint of impatience in his tone: "I don't have much time, let's get started." "Master Soul Master, please." Shi Yi responded quickly, leading Feng Yao by the hand and inviting the young man into the wooden house.

Feng Yao watched the young man slowly approach, a hint of doubt on his face. This young man had been coming to the village for four consecutive years, seemingly the spirit master in charge of this area. However, he never revealed his name, nor did he interact much with the villagers, and his entire body exuded an aura of mystery.

When Shi Yi led the young man into the wooden house, the previously noisy children immediately quieted down and lined up consciously, their eyes filled with anticipation and anxiety. Shi Yi glanced at Feng Yao, slowly walked to the edge of the line, and then hunched over as he exited the wooden house, as if afraid to disturb this important ceremony.

The young man frowned, a flicker of disdain flashing across his face. He quickly opened the package in his hand and began to arrange a hexagonal black stone formation on the ground. The wooden house was usually unoccupied, except on days when spirits awakened, when the villagers would spontaneously clean it. Therefore, the air was filled with a faint smell of moldy wood.

Feng Yao's gaze fell on the black stone, and his tender little hands involuntarily squeezed it, feeling a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. He knew that in this world where martial spirits determined everything, he would soon be able to glimpse his own destiny.

"I'll call your name later. Stand at this center point." The young man said coldly, without a trace of warmth in his voice.

The cabin was dimly lit, with only a few beams of sunlight slanting in through the windows. The young man stood in the shadows, his expression haughty and smothering the children. Hearing the young man's words, the children nodded timidly, some too timid to respond.

Seeing this, the young man didn't care and just continued to set up the awakening formation, while Feng Yao looked at the young man curiously.

The young man glanced at Feng Yao without saying anything. Then, with a single wave of his hand and a low shout, a jet-black iron sword materialized from thin air in his hand. The blade's edge gleamed with a cold metallic luster. With the appearance of the iron sword, two spirit rings, one white and one yellow, emanated from its surroundings, and the atmosphere in the cabin grew even more solemn.

At this time, Feng Yao looked at the young man's martial soul and understood. No wonder the young man looked so cold. In the process of constantly cultivating the martial soul, the martial soul will also have a significant impact on a person's character.

"Let's start." The young man said coldly.

As the first child slowly entered the awakening circle, the cabin alternately lit up with a dazzling light and then fell into darkness. One by one, the children stepped forward to accept the judgment of their fate.

"Hoe... come and test your soul power... without soul power... you can't become a soul master..."

"Blue Silver Grass? You don't need to test it. A useless martial soul has no soul power."

"Wooden hammer...sunflower...palm leaf fan...broom..."

One by one, the children returned to the group with lost expressions, their faces filled with disappointment and helplessness. Feng Yao watched this scene, feeling a surge of emotion. No matter which world, changing one's destiny is an extremely difficult task.

"Next." The young man seemed to be tired from constantly activating the awakening array, and there was a hint of impatience in his voice.

Feng Yao slowly walked into the awakening circle, eyes closed, as if welcoming the arrival of his own destiny. A familiar cyan light lit up, and his body was enveloped in a layer of light, and a warm feeling rose from within.

As time went on, the light grew brighter, and Feng Yao could clearly feel something in his hands about to burst out of his body. This feeling grew stronger as his heartbeat quickened.

Seeing the familiar shape, Feng Yao's heart couldn't help but tremble, as if a warm current surged from the bottom of his heart, instantly filling his chest.

Soon, an ancient seven-stringed lyre slowly appeared before Feng Yao. The lyre's body had smooth lines, the wood grain was clearly visible, and the strings shone faintly in the dim light, as if telling a story of the passage of time.

Feng Yao's eyes fell on the lyre in his hand, and for a moment he was mesmerized. His fingertips gently stroked the strings, and he whispered to himself, "Old friend, I didn't expect you to come along..."

At this moment, a cool touch from his other hand brought Feng Yao back to reality from his trance. He calmly moved his hand under the zither, as if to hide his inner turmoil.

The young man looked at Feng Yao, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Although this zither was very different from what he usually saw, the neatly arranged strings revealed its identity. Musical instruments on the Douluo Continent weren't just for ordinary people to awaken their spirits. This was the first spirit he had seen that looked promising after visiting so many villages today. His gaze lingered on the seven-stringed zither for a moment, then he said calmly, "Come."

Feng Yao nodded. Although his heart was in turmoil, his face remained calm. He slowly placed his hand on the blue crystal ball in front of the young man. The moment his fingertips touched the crystal ball, a slight coolness spread from his fingertips.

He glanced down at his seven-stringed harp, his heart filled with relief. He had never dreamed of awakening some earth-shattering martial spirit, knowing full well that powerful martial spirits were often formed through the inheritance and accumulation of generations of spirit masters. The seven-stringed harp before him was, for him, the best gift.

The crystal ball lay quietly in the young man's hand, waiting for Feng Yao's soul power to be injected. Feng Yao took a deep breath, his eyes firm, as if he was ready to face his fate.

……

(End of this chapter)