Fart God Gangzi!

The next day.

A family banquet at the Sea God Temple.

Feng Yan stood outside the hall and took a deep breath.

Then he worked up his courage and went inside.

"Uncle Feng!"

A pink figure dashed out and threw herself into his arms.

Six-year-old Tang Wutong.

"Uncle Feng, what took you so long? I've been waiting forever!"

Feng Yan froze.

The little girl in his arms looked up at him, smiling until her eyes curved into crescent moons.

"Uncle Feng?"

Tang Wutong tilted her head. "What are you staring at?"

"N-nothing."

Feng Yan came back to himself. His gaze swept over her fondly, and he ruffled her hair.

"Wutong, where's the Sea God?"

Tang Wutong tugged him inside. "Come on, come on! Everyone's waiting for you!"

She pulled Feng Yan into the main hall. He looked up and saw Tang San in the seat of honor, speaking quietly with someone beside him.

The man had a close-cropped haircut and wore a plain black scholar's robe. His face was thin and gaunt.

Grandmaster...

No... he should be called Yu Xiaogang, the Fart God now.

Yu Xiaogang should have stayed on the continent and waited to die.

But Feng Yan had brought Gangzi to the Divine Realm, partly to annoy Tang San and partly because Yu Xiaogang had no one he cared about anyway.

He had even thoughtfully found Yu Xiaogang a Third-Level God position—the Fart God!

Feng Yan would never forget the look in Tang San's eyes when he brought Yu Xiaogang to the Divine Realm...

The Fart God truly was the Sea God's teacher. With nothing to do all day, he spent his time running to the Sea God Temple to lecture the Sea God and make himself feel important.

He'd caused plenty of laughs, too.

For example:

"Xiao San! Why didn't you bring Er Long to the Divine Realm?"

"Xiao San! Just make an exception and let this Grandmaster return to Douluo Continent!"

Tang San had been so angry he'd nearly put his trident to Yu Xiaogang's neck.

As Feng Yan watched, Xiao Wu came over and called everyone to their seats.

"Stop standing around. The food's going to get cold."

Everyone took their seats.

Feng Yan was placed to Tang San's right. Xiao Wu sat to his left, while Ning Rongrong and Oscar sat across from him.

Six-year-old Tang Wutong sat nearby, her eyes repeatedly wandering toward Feng Yan.

Yu Xiaogang sat at the other end of the long table, farthest from Tang San.

The seating arrangement was obviously deliberate.

But even that distance couldn't muffle the Fart God's voice.

"Xiao San!"

Yu Xiaogang raised his wine cup high. "Come, let your teacher offer you a toast!"

Tang San picked up his cup with a polished smile. "You're too kind, Teacher."

"Don't be so polite!"

Yu Xiaogang lifted his cup and drained it.

"Back at Nuoding Academy, I could tell you were different. You certainly didn't disappoint me!"

Tang San nodded. "I've always kept your teachings in mind, Teacher."

"Of course you have!"

Yu Xiaogang set down his cup and continued, "By the way, how about lending me your Asura Divine Sword so I can have a look?"

Tang San's smile stiffened. "Teacher, that's a Super Divine Artifact..."

"Hmph. Fine, don't lend it to me."

Yu Xiaogang waved a hand, then abruptly changed the subject.

"Then get me a new godhood, will you? Fart God sounds awful. Give me something more imposing."

Tang San drew a deep breath, as though trying to hold something back. "Teacher, you can't just change a godhood whenever you want."

At that, Yu Xiaogang slammed his hand on the table.

"Then think of something!"

"You're a God King. Can't you even handle a little thing like this?"

Ning Rongrong lowered her head and shoveled food into her mouth, but kept glancing at Feng Yan from the corner of her eye.

Oscar gazed at her with a lecherous grin. "Rongrong, I learned this dish from Rong Nianbing, the God of Emotion. Have some more."

"Oscar, could you stop being so disgusting? Just look at Brother Feng..."

Ning Rongrong replied.

Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing seemed to have had some kind of quarrel. They hadn't said a word the whole time.

And Ma Hongjun?

After becoming a god, he'd had little to do with the rest of them.

Feng Yan picked up his wine cup and silently used it to hide his face.

Yu Xiaogang suddenly turned to him and said earnestly,

"Xiao Feng, you're a good kid. I've always remembered how you brought me to the Divine Realm."

"How about this? Talk to Xiao San for me and ask him to give me a different godhood?"

"Teacher!"

Tang San seemed to have reached his limit. His voice rose above before.

"We'll talk about this later!"

Damn it, Gangzi!

Why hadn't you just grown old and died on Douluo Continent?

You'd become a god and still weren't satisfied!

The entire hall fell silent.

Yu Xiaogang froze, his hand holding the wine cup suspended in midair.

Everyone turned to look at Tang San.

Tang San realized he'd lost his temper. He forced a faint smile and said,

"Teacher, let's eat first."

Yu Xiaogang opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing. He sat back down with an awkward smile.

The atmosphere grew uncomfortable.

Feng Yan lowered his head to eat, catching sight of Tang San's hand around his teacup, its knuckles gone pale.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Looks like he was furious.

Just as Feng Yan was enjoying the show, something soft nudged his leg.

He looked down. Tang Wutong had slipped from her seat and was hugging his leg, gazing up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"Uncle Feng, hold me."

Feng Yan paused, then bent down and picked her up.

The six-year-old girl was soft and warm. She nestled against him, clutching the front of his clothes.

"Wutong, don't you like Oscar's cooking?"

His voice was full of affection.

"Xiao Qi," Xiao Wu said just then.

"Don't bother your Uncle Feng. Come over and eat."

"No."

Tang Wutong buried her face against Feng Yan's chest.

"I want Uncle Feng to feed me."

Tang San's gaze happened to sweep their way.

He looked at Tang Wutong curled up in Feng Yan's arms, at her upturned face, at those crescent-shaped eyes...

He suddenly paused.

Those features... that little face...

Why did the two of them look a little alike?

"Xiao San?"

Xiao Wu's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Tang San came back to himself. "Hm?"

"What are you staring at?"

Xiao Wu served him some food.

Tang San nodded and lowered his head to eat.

He looked away from Feng Yan.

Did they look alike?

Maybe it was because he'd watched her grow up. Spend enough time together, and you started to resemble each other...

Right!

That had to be it!

Tang San didn't consider any other possibility.

Of course.

After all, who could have guessed his daughter was actually the child of the old neighbor, Feng Yan...

Feng Yan secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Luckily, Xiao Wu had stepped in just in time. Otherwise, Tang San might really have noticed something.

He looked down at the little one in his arms. She was gazing up at him with wide, pleading eyes, her little mouth slightly open as she waited to be fed.

He picked up his chopsticks.

"What do you want?"

"That."

Tang Wutong pointed at the sweet-and-sour fish on the table.

Feng Yan picked up a small piece, carefully removed the bones, and brought it to her lips.

Tang Wutong opened her mouth and ate it.

"Yummy!"

"Then eat some more."

He picked up another piece.

Feng Yan looked down at her little face, his heart melting.

No wonder she was his child.

When she smiled, she looked exactly like he had at that age.

He just didn't know whether she'd awaken his Martial Soul...

Wait!

Martial Soul!

How had he forgotten about that?

Wutong would be awakening her Martial Soul soon. What if she awakened his little flame...

And then Tang San just stared at him, completely dumbfounded...

The thought was too horrifying to bear.

"Uncle Feng, why did you turn pale?"

Tang Wutong looked up at him.

"N-nothing."

Feng Yan came back to himself and forced a smile. "What else do you want?"

"That."

Tang Wutong pointed at the dessert on the table.

Feng Yan mechanically picked up a piece and brought it to her lips.

But his mind was racing.

What should he do?

Could he still make a run for it?

Countless thoughts flashed through Feng Yan's mind.

He couldn't run away.

He couldn't win in a fight.

Was he really doomed to just sit around and wait to die?

So what was the point of becoming a god if he couldn't use it?

Feng Yan lowered his head to look at the little face nestled in his arms. Suddenly, inspiration struck.

Got it!

He quickly snapped back to attention and ruffled the little head of Tang Wutong in his arms. "Wutong, after we eat, Uncle Feng will give you a present."

"What present?"

Tang Wutong's eyes lit up.

"You'll find out in a bit."

Tang Wutong nodded happily, then opened her mouth, waiting to be fed again.

Feng Yan continued feeding her, but in his heart, he was already plotting how to act it out later.