Claiming the Throne of Gods, Starting from the Rebirth of Nezha
Chapter 112 Ziya Sells Zharan

Chapter 112: Chapter 112 Ziya Sells Zharan

After Jiang Ziya got married, he continued to stay with his wife at Song Yiren’s house, doing nothing all day. When he was in a good mood, he’d meditate and cultivate. When in a bad mood, he’d buy a pot of wine and sit in the yard sighing.

On Kunlun Mountain, although it wasn’t much different from what Song Yiren said, there were many and varied tasks every day. The senior brothers didn’t consider him as a disciple of Yuanshi Tianzun, but in his heart, he always felt fulfilled and hopeful.

But now.

"I really don’t know when I can go back to Kunlun to listen to the master’s lectures."

After saying this, Jiang Ziya took a big sip of wine and looked down at his feet, where the mighty ant empire had been completely destroyed by a scorching flood that fell from the sky.

He also knew he couldn’t go back.

This pot of boiling water was poured out by him.

The flood that would sweep across the world in the future would also begin at his hands.

His inner turmoil corresponded to the days in the human world.

Here, Ma Dama lifted the blue curtain on the door, glanced at Jiang Ziya, suppressed the frustration in her heart, and placed the dried radish in her hand on a nearby rack.

She turned back to Ziya, thinking that, marrying at sixty-eight, it was fate in her old age, and she could gain a good opportunity.

At first, she thought this old man was good-looking, and although he occasionally spoke some crude words, he was also somewhat knowledgeable and cultured.

But over time, she discovered that the man stayed at a friend’s house all day and didn’t know how to manage life, appearing utterly useless.

Ma Dama couldn’t stand it any longer and said, "Isn’t Uncle Song of the Song Family Manor your cousin?"

Seeing Ma Dama, Jiang Ziya felt warm in his heart, thinking that no matter what, he finally had a home. He gently replied, "Brother Song is my sworn brother."

Actually, this Ma had researched all this a long time ago. She brought it up to start a conversation.

She looked up at the harsh sun in the sky and continued, "There is no banquet that doesn’t eventually end. Even biological brothers sometimes separate households. Today Uncle Song is here, and we as a couple can live comfortably. But if he is not here one day, what would we do? As the saying goes: ’Life between heaven and earth, focusing on operation.’ I advise you to do some business to prepare for our future."

Upon hearing this, Ziya felt annoyed, but Ma’s words made sense. Thinking carefully, even to be conferred a rank and honored, one must seek opportunities, and before those opportunities arrive, life must go on.

He said, "You are right, dear wife, I’ve already had this idea in mind, just didn’t know where to start."

Seeing that Jiang Ziya was not as arrogant and conceited as imagined, Ma felt relieved and asked, "There’s no rush for this; what business skills do you have? Tell me."

"At thirty-two years old, I went to Kunlun to learn skills. I don’t understand any business in the mortal world, but in my childhood, I learned how to weave strainers with my parents, which is still useful on Kunlun Mountain, and I haven’t let that skill slip either."

Jiang Ziya thought for a long time before saying this. The thought of the strainer made him feel bitter again. Could he spend his life with strainers?

Of course, what he referred to was not literally strainers, but in this mundane world, if one doesn’t become an immortal, it’s no different from strainers to him.

Thinking of this, Jiang Ziya felt a tightness in his heart, as if a big hand was gripping him, causing him to gasp for breath.

Ma didn’t understand Ziya’s thoughts. She was now focused on managing a small family and was delighted hearing Ziya could weave strainers, saying, "This business is not bad, moreover, there is bamboo in the backyard. Speak to Landlord Song, cut some, split them into strips, weave them into strainers, and sell them in Zhaoge City for money. Big or small, it’s still a livelihood."

With nothing else to do, Jiang Ziya, feeling idle and restless, listened to Ma’s words, cut the bamboo, wove a batch of strainers, and carried them to Zhaoge to sell.

Although he was a cultivator, he hadn’t reached the Golden Core Realm, and his cultivation could not nourish the body yet. Moreover, being of old age, carrying the load for nearly twenty miles, he got dizzy and blistered under the sun. Resting under a tree’s shade beside the road, he suddenly recalled, slapping his thigh:

"Damn it, I almost forgot I’m still a cultivator; why walk at all."

Realizing this, Jiang Ziya used Earth Style to fly to the outskirts of Zhaoge City. Seeing demon clouds above the palace entangled with a few strands of royal dragon energy, vast and overwhelming, he couldn’t help but shudder with fear.

He descended his tunnel light and honestly queued up to enter the city.

Zhaoge market town had its own rhythm but no particular order, so during the day many people from surrounding villages and towns came to Zhaoge to do business.

Jiang Ziya mixed into the crowd, carrying two baskets of strainers on his shoulder, appearing not at all noticeable.

On the main road, young people from outside entering the capital city of Zhaoge mostly would dress up, wearing brand-new outfits to meet people, with clean faces and shiny hair, headed enthusiastically to appear in Zhaoge: to shop, watch shows, buy new stuff, make friends, or visit brothels...

More people were like Jiang Ziya, with hand-carried goods: carrying firewood, vegetables, pigs, sheep, eggs, chickens, donkeys, pushing carts... there was everything.

Jiang Ziya really became unremarkable.

After passing through the gate, people from outside tracked the dirt from the road onto the clean stone slabs of Zhaoge, kicking up waves of dust.

As Jiang Ziya joined this tide, carrying two baskets of strainers, he immediately regretted it.

He felt as if he was suddenly moving further away from the path of cultivation.

He felt that from front to back, everyone on this wide road was watching him.

He, a cultivator, a direct disciple of Chan Sect Saint Yuanshi Tianzun, was now selling strainers like the most ordinary farmer in Zhaoge!

His heart ached as if countless bugs were biting it.

But there was nothing he could do about it.

Life in the human world was like this; most people lived like he was now, including his wife, Ma.

He had to admit, just as Ma said, if he didn’t want to rely on Song Yiren shamelessly in the future, he had to start a new life this way.

If Heaven wanted him to sell strainers, then he would sell strainers!

He just walked with his head down, surrounded by shouts from sellers, which gradually opened up new business opportunities, with some doing extraordinarily well.

This was the right way, in this city of Zhaoge, full of people with all kinds of demands, and importantly, the residents usually had money.

Yet, none of the strainers on Jiang Ziya’s pole sold.

Could it be that people in Zhaoge didn’t use strainers?

Jiang Ziya was a smart person. Although he couldn’t figure out how to form a core, it didn’t take long for him to understand why he couldn’t sell his strainers.

He needed to shout.

As soon as he thought of this, his face turned flushed like it was burning.

God, how could he shout it out?

But he also understood that if he didn’t shout, carrying two baskets of strainers wandering around the city, who would know what he was doing?

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