Claiming the Throne of Gods, Starting from the Rebirth of Nezha
Chapter 118 Ziya Sells Noodles

Chapter 118: Chapter 118 Ziya Sells Noodles

One hour later, Spirit Pearl wiped the bloodstains off his face with his sleeve and took a pill to calm the turmoil in his blood.

With a simply crafted Purple Gold Head Ring hooked on his right index finger, he walked to the side of Ling He Perfected, who was meditating, and laughed, "I didn’t expect these Jie Sect people to carry so many treasures. With this Purple Gold Head Ring, the barriers of the Immortal Path are as nothing. Brother, you can’t suppress me any longer."

Ling He Perfected smiled wryly, though inside he murmured with resentment: I risked my life to protect you, and now that you’ve got a treasure, you disregard me as your senior brother.

But these thoughts stayed unspoken in Ling He’s heart; he dared not reveal them, let alone confront his murderous junior brother in a duel.

Looking at the bodies strewn around, his eyes twitched as the scent of blood kept the forest beasts at bay.

"Junior brother, during your battle with them, it seemed you used a spell like a talisman seal. I remember the master never taught that."

"Of course, he didn’t teach it." Spirit Pearl kicked a large stone beside him into pieces. "That stingy old man wouldn’t give me the Nine Dragon Divine Fire Cover. If he weren’t so tight-fisted, the Nezha issue would’ve been solved long ago. Why waste so much effort?"

Thinking of Nezha, his blood-red eyes were filled with venom.

He huffed coldly and continued, "Fortunately, this body isn’t ordinary; three Innate Dao Marks are carved on the dragonified spine, all of which are murderous techniques. Now that I’ve formed a Golden Core, I am qualified to unlock one of them. The next time I see Nezha, I’ll reclaim my Fire-tipped Spear and make him kneel before me and beg for mercy!"

So that’s how it is!

Ling He Perfected shuddered. Just now, when he saw Spirit Pearl fighting with that Chan Sect oddity, there was only a flash of light, and before he could see clearly, the opponent’s Mud Ball Palace was shattered and his Primordial Spirit destroyed.

Truly a god of slaughter.

Fortunately, they share the same master, and no matter how reckless he gets, Taiyi Zhenren is there to keep him in check.

However, the feud with Nezha has reached such a point; wouldn’t Nezha suspect the Golden Light Cave?

Ling He Perfected took a deep breath, mustering his courage to advise, "You mustn’t let minor feuds hinder the grand plan of the Divine Enthronement. The two-year period the master mentioned hasn’t yet come. If you kill Nezha now, the great elder is a Saint; he understands all things with a thought. If he spares a thought for this matter, not only you and I but even the master might be punished."

"Alright, alright, I know." Spirit Pearl was visibly irritated. "Senior brother, why are you as timid as the master? Not killing him doesn’t mean I can’t capture him. Once I capture him and seal his cultivation, I’ll find a place to imprison him. Once the two-year period is over, I’ll set things right, destroy his Primordial Spirit, and seize his body!"

...

Having cultivated the Nine-Pattern Divine Pill and undergone physical transformation, Nezha was very pleased.

Especially when he glanced down at his second brother and realized that, like Ding Ce and the others, he now had the qualifications to frolic with Yumao’er and the others, stirring up storms in the bedroom. He could barely contain his excitement.

With these thoughts and pointed intentions, as he walked briskly towards the Spring Breeze Building, eager to become a real man, he unexpectedly ran into an old acquaintance on the street.

"Uncle, what brings you here?"

The saying goes:

Four visits to Kunlun to seek mysterious teachings, yet shallow fate prevents fulfillment.

The dim mortal world blinds one’s eyes; how to shoulder the burdens of the bustling world?

Borrowing a branch for a temporary perch, bound again by golden shackles and jade chains.

When will lifelong aspirations be achieved, sitting calmly by the stream, learning old Zen?

Jiang Ziya saw someone, looked up not knowing who it was, squinted and took a careful look, then recognized it was Nezha.

After just a few days, Nezha changed so much that Ziya realized Nezha had another lucky encounter.

His own failures were undoubtedly distressing, but the success of an old acquaintance only made him more uneasy.

It turned out Ziya was selling sifters. Apart from meeting Nezha on the first day and force-selling them all, he hadn’t earned a cent in the following days.

Ma scorned him at home, and he got irked, pointing at Ma saying, "I said we shouldn’t do this, but you wouldn’t listen. Seeing me idle irritates you, and now selling sifters in a bustling place like Zhaoge City for days hasn’t sold a single one, and it’s bruised my shoulder instead!"

Ma, being strong-willed, retorted, "Sifters are worldly wares; if you can’t sell them, don’t turn around and blame me."

Thus, the old couple quarreled as they spoke.

Song Yiren heard the couple arguing from afar, rushed over, grabbed Ziya’s arm and asked, "Dear brother, what happened? Why are you two arguing so fiercely?"

Ziya explained, but Song Yiren just laughed and said, "Dear brother, even if you had twenty or thirty mouths to feed, I’d still support you. Why be so bothered by this."

Jiang Ziya thought, yes, why rush? It disrupts my cultivation.

But Ma respectfully said, "Sister knows uncle means well, but we must have plans for the future; should we just wait for death when times are tough, relying solely on uncle?"

Hearing this, Song Yiren nodded, "Sister-in-law is right indeed. Since the sifters aren’t selling, let’s stop selling them. I have so much grain in my granary that it’s sprouting. Later, I’ll have some young fellows grind some flour, and you can sell that instead. People in Zhaoge might not need sifters, but they surely need to eat."

The couple found reason in his words.

So, today Ziya set out again with a load of dry flour, walked from the East Gate to the West Gate, then from the North Gate to the South Gate, until his steps faltered, and his head spun, selling less than a pound of flour.

Hungry and burdened, he rested at the South Gate, leaning against the city wall.

Just about to get up, someone called out, "Flour seller, wait a moment."

Ziya thought, isn’t business coming?

When the person approached, Ziya asked, "Brother, how much flour would you like? I’ll weigh it for you."

"I’ll buy a penny’s worth."

Damn it, how much flour can you buy with a penny? Ziya sighed inwardly but couldn’t refuse the sale, so he lowered his head to weigh the flour.

Apparently, Ziya wasn’t born for business. He threw the carrying pole on the ground to weigh the flour, and the strings tied to the pole lay scattered.

But these days, with the world in chaos, King Wu Cheng Huang Feihu was constantly training troops. While firing cannons at camp, he startled a warhorse, which rushed out of the city gate, causing pedestrians to run and stalls to overturn.

When Jiang Ziya realized it, the horse was already there. As it passed, its hoof caught the ropes on the carrying pole, dragging the baskets five or six yards away, spilling the flour all over the ground.

To make matters worse, a gust of wind blew and scattered the flour in all directions, leaving what remained stuck all over Jiang Ziya.

So, covered in flour, he sat by the roadside, sighing long and deeply, dreading going home, when by chance he encountered Nezha again, treating him like a savior.

"Dear nephew, you’ve come at the right time. Lend me some silver for emergencies!"

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