Chapter Five: The Golden Touch... Maybe?

"Since you’ve awakened your martial soul, step aside quickly."

Seeing the uncle and nephew goofing around there, Yanjun’s expression was less than pleasant, though he didn’t want to sound too stern. After clearing his throat twice, he reminded them.

He was nearing retirement and wished to avoid trouble. He didn’t hope for good things to happen, only that no misfortune would spill blood on him.

"Yes, senior, we’ll step aside right away."

Chen Ming’s second uncle respectfully cupped his fists toward Yanjun and saluted, then grabbed Chen Ming by the shoulder, lifting him aside.

In Biluo City, the rule was clear: no matter what martial soul you awaken—whether you have no soul power or awaken the hereditary martial soul of the neighbor’s family—you must wait here until the awakening ceremony concludes before returning home to settle scores. This rule had stood for hundreds of years, and the Chen family dared not break it, no matter what was going on in their hearts. They could only wait patiently.

After Chen Ming was taken aside, the nearby spectators silently stepped back. Biluo City was riddled with poisons, and anyone with a normal brain knew when to avoid danger instead of crowding around.

People don’t learn from words but from experience. In this place, the overly curious either curb their curiosity or lose their lives; those who court death rarely live long.

Hadn’t they just seen a level 40 Soul Master turn pale from poison? If one were to be exposed even slightly, it would be truly unlucky.

Even if one could detoxify, it was still a painful ordeal.

Better to observe from a distance first, then watch more carefully.

Watching the tail swaying behind his nephew, the slight man coughed twice, made a vague grasping motion over his chest, then pressed down.

"Calm your mind and spirit. Feel your heartbeat, sense the force flowing through your body with each breath and beat, like blood—that is soul power. Then imagine yourself relaxing, sinking into a soft bed, feeling the extra weight on your chest, and gently pushing it back into your body."

The Soul Master families taught their children to perceive soul power more thoroughly than the Soul Hall’s awakening guides, though this explanation had a touch of mysticism. The notion of extra weight on the chest was too abstract for most children; overthinking often meant their soul power couldn’t be retracted for a long time.

Thankfully, Chen Ming had been a mature adult with developed thinking in his previous life. After some reflection, he entered the state smoothly.

The process of retracting the martial soul and soul power went well, though Chen Ming sensed something peculiar.

It was an abstract force, impossible to describe simply with words, yet omnipresent—something anyone could touch at any time.

Familiar beyond measure, yet indescribable in any concrete terms.

If he had to describe it… perhaps it was a kind of spiritual or conceptual force?

Did Soul Masters on Douluo Continent all feel this when releasing and retracting their martial souls? Or was he an exception, a transmigrator with unique spiritual traits? Or maybe he carried some secret advantage he had yet to discover?

Chen Ming pondered silently, then reached out to touch his exposed left arm outside his clothing. Though his skin was somewhat tough and his muscles swollen, the difference from before awakening his martial soul was slight—none of the exaggerated growth or shell-like texture remained.

Because just moments ago, when his martial soul manifested, his figure had swollen dramatically, his arms covered with a shell-like armor. His clothes were now tattered, leaving his arms exposed to the air.

Soul Master families had considered the problem of children’s bodies growing after awakening, causing clothes to burst. Chen Ming’s clothes were designed to stretch well, but since his body had been coated with highly corrosive poison that damaged the fabric, it left him looking somewhat disheveled.

Chen Ming didn’t mind. He was only somewhat messy, not naked. If a little messiness at soul awakening meant gaining a higher-quality martial soul, then everyone on Douluo Continent might as well choose to show up naked for the ceremony.

The ritual continued, yet no other child drew particular attention afterward.

This year, the child with the highest soul power level awakened was Chen Ming himself, with an innate soul power level five. Among the fifteen children, only one had no soul power, while most hovered around levels two or three. The second highest was level four, awakening an ordinary poisonous snake as their martial soul—not particularly strong.

When the ceremony ended, Chen Ming’s second uncle immediately scooped him up, activated his soul power, and without concern for onlookers, sprinted wildly toward the Chen family home.

A few hundred meters from home, a powerful soul power surged from the Chen residence. A vigorous old man charged forward with fierce momentum.

"Are we being pursued? I want to see who dares stir trouble in front of the Chen family!"

The old man’s body was enveloped in an eerie soul power aura. Behind his aged figure, the shadow of a jade-green poisonous scorpion faintly appeared. His soul rings—a perfect combination of two yellow, two purple, and one black—adorned him. His hawk-like eyes swept across the seemingly calm street, his tone as cold as the biting winter wind.

“Father, there’s no pursuer. It’s something else. Let’s go home first.”

Chen Ming’s second uncle saw his father’s demeanor and realized he must have mistaken their hurried pace for fleeing from attackers.

Looking at the ground corroded by the old man’s dissipating soul power, he knew how agitated the elder must be. Without explanation, he would likely be punished at home.

"Really, I haven’t caused trouble enough to be chased down in the city for a long time..." the middle-aged man muttered, lips curled.

“You better have a good reason…”

Hearing there was no pursuer, the elder’s fierce aura briefly stiffened. Catching Chen Ming’s gaze, his face grew awkward. He snorted coldly, swished his sleeves, and turned away.

He knew his second son was mischievous but not reckless enough to make grave mistakes. If there were trouble, there surely was. Yet causing such a misunderstanding in front of his only grandson was somewhat embarrassing.

Fortunately, because Chen Ming’s second uncle had rushed home at full speed with Chen Ming, no other factions reported back, and few guards watched the Chen estate’s entrance. Vendors and pedestrians had already fled from their intimidating presence, so few witnessed this scene.