Martial Uncle Nuwa, You Don't Want

After leaving Old Ancestor Minghe's uncomfortable and gloomy Sea of Blood reception hall, Chen Song rode Big White, leaving a trail of sparks and lightning, heading east without looking back.

"Run, run! Leave this vast and sparsely populated treasure land of the West!" Chen Song urged, patting the dog's head.

Big White's four paws churned like wind-and-fire wheels. "Woof! Boss, didn't you say we had fate with the West? Does this count as passing by without fate?"

"Fate my ass!" Chen Song spat. "That was a forced transaction, a karmic debt! Hurry back to the Great Tang of the East... pfft, back to the rich lands of the East!"

However, as the saying goes, what you fear will come.

Just as the man and dog were about to step out of the Western territory, and could already see the spiritual energy of heaven and earth becoming clearer in the distance, boundless auspicious light suddenly bloomed in the void ahead... emitting a strange Dao Charm that made one feel "let go of obsessions, and join my sect."

Two figures, accompanied by familiar sighs of sorrow, as if they had been waiting for a long time, slowly stepped out of the void, blocking Chen Song and Big White.

On the left was Jieyin, sallow and thin, with a worried frown, as if he had just had ten thousand years of salary deducted by the Heavenly Dao.

On the right was Zhunti. Although he also wore a bitter and resentful expression, his eyes shone with brilliance, like the most accurate treasure-hunting radar, instantly locking onto Chen Song, especially lingering on the secondary imprint of the Earth Book at his waist and the aura of Merit that had not yet completely subsided around him.

"Alas..." Jieyin sighed before speaking, his tone melodious and desolate. "Suffering... In my Western land, it is rare for a young friend with such a pure disposition and deep fortune to set foot. Little friend, you truly... have fate with my West."

Zhunti immediately chimed in, his face creased into a professional-grade sincere smile. "Yes, yes! Martial Nephew Chen Song, it's been a thousand years, and your demeanor is even more impressive than before! I see the little friend is surrounded by Merit, with treasure light contained within. You must have obtained a great opportunity. As the saying goes, 'A Dharma boat must ferry those with fate.' Why doesn't little friend accompany us to the West, to jointly study the Great Dao, enlighten all beings, and share purity? Although my West is barren, it desperately needs a great talent like little friend to revitalize it!"

As they spoke, the Quasi-Saint pressure emanating from them spread out like an invisible tide, giving the impression that "whether you want to form this fate today or not, you will form it."

If it were in the past, Chen Song might have had to engage in some pleasantries.

But today was different! He, Chen Hansan, had a Saint's thigh to cling to! The West? Even dogs wouldn't go there!

Big White: "Ah, yes, yes, yes, I really don't want to go, I just want to follow the boss."

Chen Song jumped off Big White's back, patted the non-existent dust on his daoist robe, and instead of fear, his face showed an extremely exaggerated expression mixed with disdain, disgust, and "I've seen through you."

He pointed his finger directly at Jieyin and Zhunti's noses, launching a full-frontal assault:

"Oh my! Who do I think it is? It turns out to be the two 'fated' Martial Uncles from the West!"

"I say, you two, can you come up with some new words? 'Fate, fate' all day long. The Great Wilderness is so big, is everyone, every dog, every blade of grass fated with you? Is your 'fate' wholesale from the Heavenly Dao? Sold by the pound or by the bundle?"

"And jointly study the Great Dao? Enlighten all beings? Pfft!" Chen Song's spittle almost sprayed onto Zhunti's face. "I think you want to pull a fast one, trick me into being your free labor in your godforsaken West? Revitalize the West? By trickery? By robbery? By this thick skin that can block the Chaos Bell?"

"Look at your behavior! If you're going to rob someone, just rob them! You have to make it sound like you're saving all beings! Hypocrites, disgusting! So disgusting!"

"I'm telling you! I, Chen Song, have no fate with your West! Not a single cent's worth of fate! If you insist on saying there is, it's a karmic debt! It's a one-sided collision on your part!"

"You want to force me? Come on! Do it! Don't make me look down on you!"

Chen Song's mouth was spewing saliva, and his demeanor was imposing, but inwardly he was frantically typing comments, his soul screaming towards Wa Huang Palace:

"Martial Aunt Nuwa! Help! Your dear martial nephew, the respected Holy Father of the Human Race, is about to be forcibly fated by these two shameless people from the West! Martial Aunt! If you don't come soon, you'll lose your most obedient and sensible martial nephew! Wa Huang Palace will be lonely! The Human Race will lose their handsome and dashing Holy Father!"

"Martial Aunt Nuwa! You don't want... your Human Race, whom you personally created, to lose their Holy Father before they even prosper! Martial Aunt Nuwa!"

Perhaps Chen Song's inner call was too "devout," or perhaps Saint Nuwa had always been paying attention to the movements of this "Holy Father of the Human Race."

Just as Chen Song's throat was dry from cursing, and Jieyin and Zhunti's faces turned from sorrowful to ashen, preparing to disregard their dignity and act directly—

"Buzz—"

A vast, serene, yet supremely majestic aura of creation descended upon this world without warning!

The sky seemed to be painted in seven colors, with myriad rays of light and streams of auspicious energy. Endless Dao Charm swept through like a spring breeze, instantly dissolving the spatial confinement set by Jieyin and Zhunti into nothingness.

A figure of peerless elegance, sacred and graceful, appeared silently before Chen Song. It was Saint Nuwa!

She swept her calm gaze over Jieyin and Zhunti, her voice ethereal and indifferent:

"Jieyin, Zhunti. Chen Song is my martial nephew, and also the Holy Father of the Human Race. What are you two intending to do?"

Jieyin and Zhunti's expressions instantly became incredibly complex. Facing Nuwa, who had already become a Saint, their Quasi-Saint cultivation was simply not enough.

"Nuwa... Martial Sister." Jieyin spoke with difficulty, his sorrowful expression now genuine. "We... we merely saw that Martial Nephew Chen Song had fate with the West and wanted to invite him to discuss the Dao. We had no other intentions..."

Zhunti also quickly forced a smile that looked worse than crying. "Indeed, indeed! It's a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding! We will leave now, we will leave now!"

After speaking, the two didn't even bother with pleasantries. They bowed to Saint Nuwa and transformed into two somewhat flustered streaks of golden light, disappearing into the depths of the West without looking back.

Chen Song watched the direction they disappeared, let out a long sigh of relief, and turned to Nuwa with an incredibly brilliant smile. "Martial Aunt! You came just in time! You're like a beacon in the darkness, a spring in the desert! My admiration for you..."

"Enough," Nuwa interrupted him indifferently, her gaze turning to him with a hint of helplessness. "Always causing trouble, were you happy cursing just now?"

Chen Song chuckled, scratching his head. "I was happy, but it was a bit hard on my throat."

Nuwa didn't respond to his remark. Her gaze seemed to pierce through the endless void, falling upon the Human Race tribes struggling to survive on the Great Wilderness, and she sighed softly.

"Little Pine Tree."

"Yes! I'm here, Martial Aunt. What are your orders?"

"As the Holy Father of the Human Race, do you know the current situation of the Human Race?" Nuwa's tone carried a hint of imperceptible worry. "They are weak at birth, without sharp teeth or claws, nor magical powers or spiritual abilities. How difficult it is for them to survive in this Great Wilderness where fierce beasts lurk and demons appear."

Chen Song's playful smile also faded a bit upon hearing this. He naturally knew that the current Human Race was like the lowest-level "newbie village" players in the Great Wilderness.

"Martial Aunt means..." Chen Song vaguely guessed Nuwa's thoughts.

Nuwa looked at him, her eyes filled with expectation. "Since you are the Holy Father of the Human Race, enjoying their destiny and bearing their karma, you should seek a sliver of survival for them. You are quick-witted and often have ingenious ideas. Can you find a way for the Human Race to strengthen themselves and stand on their own, allowing them to truly take root and survive in this Great Wilderness?"

Chen Song immediately felt a wave of bitterness.

Well, he had just driven away two robbers, and now his own Saint Martial Aunt was assigning him the job of "Chief Engineer of the Human Race" and "Survival Guidance Consultant"!

But looking at Martial Uncle Nuwa's "You decide" gaze, and then thinking about his own title of "Holy Father," Chen Song knew this task couldn't be refused.

He scratched his head, beginning to frantically squeeze out the pathetic "ancient survival knowledge" he had from modern times.

Building houses? Starting fires by friction? Making clothes?

It seemed... these were the only things he could offer.

Forget it, might as well give it a shot!

Chen Song put on a tragic expression of "I'll carry the banner for the race" and cupped his hands to Nuwa, saying, "Martial Uncle, rest assured! Your disciple... your disciple will do his utmost to plan for the Human Race! I'll go find the intelligent humans now and teach them some... hmm, 'minor' survival skills!"

Nuwa nodded slightly, her figure slowly dissipating, leaving behind only a sentence: "Good. I await good news."

Watching Saint Nuwa leave, Chen Song's face fell. He kicked Big White, who was still baring its teeth towards the West.

"You're gone, you dumb dog! Work has arrived! Let's go do... infrastructure and tech tree development for the Human Race!"

"Woof? What's infrastructure? Is it a new breed of chicken? Is it tasty?"