Vinculando o Destino Nacional: Começando como o Jovem Demônio Nezha

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North Sea Orphanage.

Inside a strange little dark room.

A tiny boy of three or four lay half-reclining on the floor, propping up his little head with one hand, a blade of grass dangling from the corner of his mouth.

The strangest thing about him was the dark circles beneath his eyes. They were so pronounced that he looked utterly listless and dejected.

His name was Qin Chuan. The orphanage director had just locked him in the little dark room, though he was clearly a frequent visitor.

So despite being shut inside, he felt not the slightest bit flustered. Instead, he muttered to himself:

“Locked indoors with nothing to do, I climb the walls and smash the pots. Back and forth a thousand times, even I, the young master, am worn out.”

“I am a bearer of ill fortune, carefree and at ease. I went to the latrine to relieve myself, then remembered I had forgotten the paper.”

“Life is nothing but tears. If you’re not dead, you must suffer. The more you struggle, the worse your luck becomes; the higher your ambitions, the more miserable you are. Are you tired of clinging to life? Better to collapse onto the bed and sleep.”

Then little Qin Chuan raised his head and sighed.

“I never imagined that I’ve already been transported to the Planet of Nine Continents for four years.”

That was right. Qin Chuan was a transmigrator.

Four years ago, he had drowned in a sudden flood, and his soul had crossed over to the Planet of Nine Continents.

The Planet of Nine Continents was extremely similar to Ear