This Uncle Is Worth Knowing! He Knows How to Act!

Di Jiang had barely finished speaking when Di Jun, Tai Yi, and the ten Demon Gods swept their gazes right past Xuan Du, landing instead on Liu Mang—who was hiding behind Fu Xi, one head poking out with a thoroughly shifty expression.

Xuan Du: I've got a "motherf—" to say, but I'm not sure if I should.

Anyone with eyes could see someone so "close" to Fu Xi; they'd noticed him the moment they arrived.

Besides, Liu Mang was sitting in the middle of a pile of treasures, grinning like a complete fool—hard not to notice.

But the Demon Race didn't understand his origins, and no one on site brought it up, so they naturally held back from asking.

Since Di Jiang had taken the initiative to mention it, everyone turned to Fu Xi, waiting for an explanation.

"This is a living being created by Younger Sister—Liu Mang of the Human Race. Younger Sister has already adopted him as her son."

The Demon Race crowd all wore grim expressions, standing silently in the air, exchanging glances without a word. Instead, they kept signaling Bai Ze with their eyes.

Bai Ze, who was closest to Fu Xi, could only force a bitter smile. He stepped forward and raised his hand in greeting: "Daoist Fu Xi, is this truly Daoist Nu Wa's intention?"

Fu Xi clasped his hands in return to Bai Ze, nodded, and gave a soft "Mm" as his answer.

He was still displeased with Di Jun and Tai Yi for arriving late, and he'd clearly seen Di Jun signaling Bai Ze. Giving an answer at all was already a courtesy to his old friend Bai Ze.

Having received Fu Xi's confirmation, Bai Ze let out a wry laugh: "Daoist Nu Wa... this is, well... still a child at heart!"

When Bai Ze finished, everyone couldn't help rolling their eyes in unison.

What kind of crappy word choice is that? If you can't talk, don't talk.

Though they grumbled inwardly, they couldn't help but take the matter seriously.

After all, Nu Wa, following the Dao Ancestor, had already taken the first step toward enlightenment ahead of everyone else.

If she succeeded in attaining the Dao, then Liu Mang's status would no longer be that of a simple human—he would be the son of a Saint.

The son gains status through the mother—that's how it is!

This identity was far more noble than any son of the Demon Emperor; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he stood on equal footing with Di Jun.

To the Demon Gods, it was like your eighty-something grandma picking up a one-year-old baby and telling you to call him "Uncle"—the seniority just gets handed down out of nowhere. Who could stomach that?

But that wasn't the main issue. What worried them most was whether Nu Wa would place Liu Mang in the Demon Race, and if so, what position he'd hold.

For Di Jun and Tai Yi, it was a struggle for dominance over the Demon Race; for the Demon Gods, it was a power struggle. The benefits left for them were already scarce—after all, above the Ten Demon Gods sat a Demon Master.

For a moment, the Demon Race crowd was lost in their own thoughts, some even entertaining the idea of just killing him off.

If Di Jiang knew that one sentence of his could spark so many wild thoughts among the Demon Race, he'd be laughing his ass off.

He'd only meant to drag the Demon Race down with him, since he couldn't be the only one getting screwed.

Liu Mang noticed the Demon Race's gazes sweeping over him from time to time, so he shuffled out from behind Fu Xi—but only by half a step.

"Greetings, fellow seniors."

Liu Mang said, casually raising his hand in a loose salute as his greeting.

Liu Mang knew that look from the Demon Race all too well—it was the same look people gave him when they wanted him dead.

Stand there and get taken out, or hide behind Fu Xi? Which to choose?

He wasn't stupid—of course he'd follow his gut and pick the latter!

Liu Mang finished his greeting and was about to retreat behind Fu Xi when Jiu Feng's voice transmission rang in his ear.

"Di Jiang the Ancestral Witch told me to let you know: the Demon Race is way richer than the Wu Clan! The stage is set for you—don't waste such a good opportunity."

Liu Mang's eyes lit up. Right, why didn't I think of that? The next moment, his gaze toward the Demon Race brightened.

True, indeed!

Look at the Wu Clan—just a leather skirt wrapped around them, with even Hou Tu and Jiu Feng only wearing an extra vest.

Now look at the Demon Race—not only were they well-dressed, but the treasures in their hands were dazzling enough to blind you.

Especially Fei Lian's fan—just prying off one gem could buy the entire outfit of the Twelve Ancestral Witches, and with some haggling, maybe throw in a Jiu Feng too.

How could Liu Mang miss out on such a good deed of robbing the rich to help the poor?

Rob the Demon Race's riches to help his own poverty!

Liu Mang turned his head to look at Di Jiang, who was furiously winking at him, his eyeballs practically flying out of their sockets.

This big uncle is worth acknowledging—he knows how to work it!

Liu Mang quietly raised his thumb at him.

"Cough, cough!"

Liu Mang faked a couple of coughs to draw everyone's attention, then stepped out from behind Fu Xi with his hands clasped behind his back.

In an instant, he transformed from a coward afraid of death into a sanctimonious figure.

"Let me reintroduce myself! Liu Mang, son of the Saint Nu Wa—greetings, fellow daoists!"

The Demon Race crowd nearly choked on their blood. Damn it, this is worse than before!

Just a moment ago, he was calling them "predecessors," and now it's "fellow daoists"!

In less than a minute, their seniority had dropped a whole generation—even stocks don't fall that fast!

Besides, hasn't Nu Wa not yet attained the Dao? And you already call yourself the Saint's son—what kind of fake act are you putting on?

Of course, these words everyone only dared to think in their hearts.

If they said it out loud, regardless of whether Nu Wa could attain the Dao, Fu Xi would be the first to jump out and kill them.

The number one sister-con of Hong Huang wasn't just an empty title.

Though not very willing, still—

"Bai Ze (Fei Lian, Fei Dan...) greets Young Friend!"

Although everyone looked reluctant, they still barely raised their hands to return a greeting to Liu Mang.

But before Bai Ze and the others could lower their hands, the Wu Clan's thunderous voice rang in their ears.

"That's it? That's all?" Zhu Jiuyin said, his face full of disbelief.

Xuan Ming, quick to catch on, took over the conversation: "Are you kidding me?"

The two played off each other, leaving the Demon Race momentarily baffled.

Zhu Jiuyin and Xuan Ming's words were all taught by Di Jiang.

Watching the Demon Race's faces full of question marks, Di Jiang knew his moment to perform had arrived.

Di Jiang leisurely stepped out from among the Twelve Ancestral Witches, looked at the Demon Race, and shook his head while sighing.

"Ah, I never expected it. For such a joyous occasion as Fellow Daoist Nu Wa accepting an adopted son, the rulers and Demon Gods of the Demon Race didn't even show a single gesture. How disheartening~"

As Di Jiang spoke, he glanced at the mountain of treasures behind Fu Xi. Originally, these belonged to the Wu Clan; they'd just changed their surname to Liu.

But as long as he could screw over the Demon Race, he'd accept the loss!

Suppressing his heartache, he continued: "Although my Wu Clan is poor at home, every Ancestral Witch still sent a generous gift, will(forced)ing(help)ly(less) and without complaint."

"I never thought they'd be such demons!" Ju Mang whispered disdainfully in Tian Wu's ear, but his voice was loud enough for everyone present to hear.

Hou Tu shook her head with a long sigh, her face full of regret. "Ah, Fellow Daoist Nu Wa really misjudged her companions!"

"Exactly, exactly!"

Liu Mang had been grinning from the moment Di Jiang started speaking, and his mouth hadn't closed since.

Uncle's assist was like wiping your ass with gauze—truly a leaky move on his part.

He'd originally thought that asking outright might be a bit shameless.

Now it was perfect—just add a little fuel, and wait for the sucker to deliver himself!

Liu Mang lifted his robe, bowed to the Ancestral Witches, and said, "Please, Ancestral Witches, say no more! I, Liu Mang, am grateful from the bottom of my heart for your standing up for me."

"But my mother and these Demon Race Fellow Daoists are of the same race. Among ourselves, there's no need for such formality."

"After my mother attains the Dao, I'll talk to her. She should, maybe, perhaps, probably, possibly understand~"

To frame a complaint so elegantly—this was the first time the ten Demon Gods of Hong Huang had ever seen it.

Even those two in The West seemed almost cute compared to Liu Mang.

"Wu Clan barbarians, what bullshit are you spouting?! Who said we didn't prepare gifts?!"

"Heh, here it comes!"