Chapter 82: You Wish to Protect Him?

Shen Gongbao, descending from Mount Kunlun, was filled with resentment.

He had once believed that becoming a disciple of a Sage would guarantee him a meteoric rise. Yet, after all his hardships to become a disciple on Kunlun, reality fell far short of his dreams. None of his senior brothers were willing to join forces with him, and his master offered no guidance whatsoever. He’d only been accepted as a disciple because of his own persistence, and in the end, he was nothing more than a nominal student. Whenever he addressed his seniors—like the Perfected Taiyi—they hardly bothered to respond.

At first, he’d thought it was due to his lack of strength, so he had thrown himself into cultivation, day and night, with a feverish obsession. Now, having reached the rank of Golden Immortal of the Great Principle, he still received no recognition. He convinced himself that this was simply another test from his master, and he did know a little of what lay behind the affair of the Investiture of the Gods. Severing the fate of the great Shang Dynasty would require someone to shoulder the burden of cause and effect, and Shen Gongbao was willing to bear that for his master.

But in the end, this task was handed by the Primordial Heavenly Lord not to him, but to Jiang Ziya, who was inferior to him in every respect! How was this fair? This man had joined later, was less talented, less powerful, and less diligent—was it simply because he was human? Was it just because Shen Gongbao was a leopard spirit?

Such treatment had nearly twisted Shen Gongbao’s heart beyond recognition. If his master looked down on him, then he would show the Primordial Heavenly Lord who truly was the most outstanding disciple! Wasn’t the plan to sever Shang’s fate so that there would be no more Human Emperors? Then he would do the opposite—he would help Shang reclaim its destiny. He would make the human race once again stand at the pinnacle of heaven and earth. He would see to it that the Human Emperor became a being they all feared once more!

This was the only thought filling Shen Gongbao’s mind as he sped toward Shang, searching for the Human Emperor, determined to reveal all the Sage’s schemes to him and render their thousands of years of plotting worthless. With this thought, his pace quickened, transforming into a streak of black light that shot straight toward Chaoge, in the exact opposite direction of Jiang Ziya.

...

At that moment, Jiang Yuan felt utterly foolish—his journey had ended up as the longest possible route. First he’d gone north to the Barbarians, then straight to the Southern Sea, then to the Eastern Barbarians, and now he had to traverse the entire Shang territory to reach Xiqi. Was he mad?

Thankfully, in this life, he had his own mount and magical treasures. If not, even flying would have cost an unimaginable fortune. It was also lucky he was a king and had the ability to cultivate; otherwise, the mere exhaustion of such a journey would have ruined him.

Halfway through, Jiang Yuan discovered that his Tyrant Value had dropped to just over three hundred points! Several Celestial Immortals had vanished just like that! Had he really traveled hundreds of thousands of miles without noticing? Was this his kingdom? Was this the territory of the human race? Who knew how far Xiqi still was? At this rate, he’d end up with negative Tyrant Value!

“Get down,” Jiang Yuan said coolly to Nezha.

Nezha looked aggrievedly at Jiang Yuan. What had he done? He hadn’t even spoken—how had he managed to upset Jiang Yuan this time?

“What’s wrong?” Nezha asked pitifully.

“Just get down first,” Jiang Yuan replied.

“You’re not going to leave me here, are you? I don’t even know the way—what if I run into another villain like Yang Jian?”

“I’ll be getting down too,” Jiang Yuan explained. The fact that he could still speak so patiently to Nezha was proof of true affection—losing over a hundred points of Tyrant Value for no reason at all, how could he possibly be in a good mood?

“Oh, okay.”

Nezha obediently climbed down, and Jiang Yuan followed. At last, the wretched system’s exploitation had come to an end.

“Let’s travel on our own now. You ride your Wind-Fire Wheels, and I’ll mount my Purple Jade Qilin,” Jiang Yuan said casually.

Nezha nodded, disgruntled but silent, as two flaming wheels appeared beneath his feet.

Doesn’t that burn? Jiang Yuan mused, watching Nezha’s Wind-Fire Wheels. He was a little tempted—after all, he’d never tried them himself. Did you have to take your shoes off, just like Nezha? And what if it really did burn his feet?

He pushed aside these idle thoughts—competing with a child for a toy was hardly becoming of a Human Emperor. Just as he was about to put away his Lamborghini, a furious shout came from the distance.

“At last I’ve found you! So this little thief has run all the way here! You were pretty bold when you provoked me, weren’t you?”

The speaker paused, glanced at Jiang Yuan, and said with a faint note of surprise, “So you’ve found yourself a protector?”

“Hmph! No matter who you’ve got backing you today, I, Yang, swear to have my revenge!” the man declared.

Jiang Yuan was momentarily stunned. The newcomer was dressed in white, strikingly handsome, exuding an upright and meticulous aura—someone who was simply pleasant to behold. In the twenty-first century, he would be a perfect example of a refined, classical gentleman.

So, handsome fellow, are you talking to me?

...

Just as Jiang Yuan was about to lose his temper, Nezha tugged at his sleeve, his face the very picture of pitiful helplessness.

Jiang Yuan had never seen Nezha look so meek and timid before, and couldn’t help but be amused.

“Do you know him?” Jiang Yuan asked with a playful smile, already guessing the newcomer’s identity.

“That’s the one who bullied me—Yang Jian,” Nezha said weakly.

Jiang Yuan wasn’t the least bit surprised. It was, indeed, the very Yang Jian he’d been looking for—no wonder he was so good-looking. That face, that bearing—they were a match for his own.

“Oh? Then this has nothing to do with me?” Jiang Yuan said with a faint smile.

Hearing this, Nezha gripped Jiang Yuan’s sleeve even tighter, his eyes wide and his lips pouting as he pleaded, “Old Jiang, you wouldn’t just leave me, would you?”

“Why should I get involved? Isn’t this the perfect opportunity? Don’t you like fighting? Here’s your chance,” Jiang Yuan replied with a smile.

Nezha’s face fell, and he muttered, “But I can’t beat him...”

“So, you come running to me? You’re sure I can beat him?” Jiang Yuan countered.

Nezha pointed at Zhang Kui not far away, grinning ingratiatingly. “Isn’t he here too?”

“Don’t you have a master yourself?” Jiang Yuan said unhurriedly.

“His master ranks higher in the Chan Sect than mine,” Nezha mumbled, shrinking his neck.

Jiang Yuan looked at Nezha with undisguised mockery. So, you’ve met your match at last? Can’t win in a fight, can’t compete in connections, and in the end it’s up to me—the only one who can rival Yang Jian in both looks and presence—to step up.

“Relax, leave it to me,” Jiang Yuan said, patting Nezha on the head with a smile.

He pried Nezha’s hand from his sleeve, stepped forward, and, smiling with the utmost grace, addressed Yang Jian, “May I ask your name, fellow cultivator?”

Yang Jian frowned, looking at Jiang Yuan with impatience. “Didn’t that brat tell you who I am?”

“Him telling me is one thing. Hearing it from you is another,” Jiang Yuan replied calmly.

“I don’t stoop to announcing my name to the likes of you,” Yang Jian said coldly.

“How dare you speak to the King like that!” Zhang Kui snapped from the side, annoyed. The boy acted as if everyone owed him money—who was he trying to impress?

Yang Jian’s annoyance flared; a three-pointed, double-edged blade appeared in his hand, which he pointed straight at Jiang Yuan. “Are you going to protect him?” he asked coolly.

Jiang Yuan was momentarily taken aback—this guy was even more arrogant than Nezha!