Chapter 173

"Shut up!" Nüwa suddenly spoke, her voice icy cold, full of oppressive pressure.

But if one listens closely enough, one can hear the urgency and subtle trembling beneath the suppressed tone.

Sun Wukong blinked sleepily, withdrew his hand, lowered his head, and obediently shut up—after all, he had already said what he needed to say—his eyes darting cautiously toward Nüwa.

He couldn't help but wonder: what kind of madame is this, looking somewhat unhappy?

Sun Wukong furrowed his brow—could it be that he feels unworthy of his master, ashamed and guilty, thus so heartbroken?

Yes, Sun Wukong secretly nodded—it must be this!

Sigh!

Sun Wukong softly sighed in his heart; for this feeling, he could understand.

As the disciple of the master, and also the Great Mountain's First Disciple.

The pressure in his heart is easy to imagine: he must diligently train his cooking cultivation so as not to embarrass his master, while also managing his own words and deeds to set an example for his younger martial sisters and possibly future younger martial brothers.

This is secondary; most importantly, he feels unworthy—if not for a fortunate accident, what qualification does he have to become the master's disciple?

Thus, he diligently hones his cooking skills—not merely out of love for cooking, but because he wishes to truly feel worthy of being the master's good disciple in his heart!

Sun Wukong helplessly shook his head—this sense of inferiority can only be slowly changed; it cannot be erased by a few casual words from others.

After all, becoming the master's wife—feeling inferior is normal.

Currently, what Sun Wukong is most satisfied with about himself is his speech and conduct; over more than ten years, he has repeatedly escaped his master's reprimands, all thanks to this silver tongue!

Thinking of this, Sun Wukong's corner of the mouth unconsciously curled upward slightly; over the years, his speech has already formed its own school.

In short, just three words: Praise the master!

No matter what, as long as one elevates the master, it's basically correct!

On that side, Sun Wukong thought he had understood Nüwa's heart, while on this side, Nüwa already wished she could slap Sun Wukong to death.

Nüwa lightly bit her lower lip, her hands clenched tightly; even with a sage's heart-mind, she could not remain calm—this monkey's sweet tongue, as if coated in honey, she truly did not know how he learned it.

Nüwa had already automatically filtered out Sun Wukong's praises toward her; after filtering, the general meaning left was roughly: if you dress up, you might still have hope.

Killing intent suddenly flared in Nüwa's beautiful eyes, but she immediately forced it down.

This is the Heaven-Mending Stone she left behind, also the protagonist of this Western Great Calamity, and moreover, Chen the Shopkeeper's disciple.

Let alone the karmic connection between the Heaven-Mending Stone and her, and the importance of the calamity's protagonist—she has awakened divine abilities while still owing Chen the Shopkeeper a favor; emotionally and rationally, she cannot slap this monkey to death.

She lightly patted her chest a few times, Nüwa exhaled the stagnant air in her heart, hoping to ease her mood slightly.

Because Nüwa knows she can no longer calm down—this monkey's words are no longer mere contempt; this is outright mockery!

Why should Nüwa need such vulgar rouge and powder to adorn herself? And why would she deign to do so? Her beauty needs no doubt!

When discussing suitability, it should be others who weigh themselves—whether they can truly be worthy of her?

Nüwa raised her elegant, pale neck, her eyes holding a hint of arrogant pride—even if that so-called Chen the Shopkeeper were truly as perfect as Sun Wukong described, what then?

She will certainly not be inferior to anyone, and moreover, she does not care for such things!

Furthermore, the Great Dao is indifferent; as a Holy Person, how could she be bound by love and emotion?

In her heart, one lift, one step—this let Nüwa's mood greatly ease, the rosy clouds receded, her complexion returned to normal.

Nüwa's vermilion lips slightly parted: "This matter, I cannot agree to."

Nüwa refused without hesitation; she fears that if she says a few more sentences, she might truly not be able to resist slapping this monkey to death.

"Speak of the next matter.

" Nüwa's voice faintly carried a hint of threat; as long as Sun Wukong dares to utter such demands again, she will make him return to the stove for rebirth!

Sun Wukong scratched his head, somewhat bewildered—why is he still refusing?

But seeing Nüwa's cold, proud expression, unwilling to speak further, Sun Wukong suddenly had a moment of enlightenment.

Surely it was because he spoke too hastily in playing matchmaker, giving no time for preparation—girls' families might simply be more shy.

Understandable, Sun Wukong thought he understood the nodding point—his master's kindness, when she one day visits the Chaos Residence, she will naturally know!

Rubbing his chin, Sun Wukong mused briefly: "Then let you decide."

Whether it's good or not, he doesn't care; besides this, he has nothing else he wants.

"Very well." Nüwa slightly nodded, accepted without hesitation, and simultaneously felt relieved in her heart.

Since she said she would give benefits, she will certainly not go back on her word.

But, making her own choice is certainly better than others randomly suggesting—she truly fears Sun Wukong will utter something shocking again.

After a moment of contemplation, Nüwa spoke: "Then I shall bestow upon you a Holy Person's power, capable of blocking a Holy Person's strike."

She fears that if she encounters this monkey's offensive words again in the future, one moment of losing control, she will directly slap him to death.

After all, this monkey's mouth is as sweet as if coated in honey—too likely.

Better to leave a single strike's power as a buffer.

"Good." Sun Wukong, unaware of Nüwa's intentions, cheerfully nodded and said yes—regardless of what it is, he doesn't care either way.

Nüwa flicked her finger; a streak of light whooshed into Sun Wukong's body, then instantly vanished.

Leaving Sun Wukong utterly unable to sense it, he waved his arms, moved his body.

Sun Wukong also felt no discomfort whatsoever, as if the streak of light had never existed; he secretly marveled in his heart.

"This Holy Person's power will automatically protect you when facing a lethal threat from another Holy Person, blocking one strike." Nüwa explained lightly.

"What about beneath the Holy Person?" Sun Wukong blurted out.

He had heard his master say that, with his current cultivation, between him and the Holy Person level, there seems to be mixed in Great Luo Golden Immortals and Prepared Saints—if those two were to strike him, what would happen?

Upon hearing Sun Wukong's words, Nüwa naturally replied: "Not triggered."

This Holy Person's power she prepared for herself; if even cats and dogs could trigger it, then when it comes to her turn, what would she do?

After all, Sun Wukong's identity is special—even if she is a Holy Person, it's not easy to deal with this monkey.

It's not that she fears, but rather finds it troublesome; granting this defensive method, she can also reduce her worries somewhat.

Useless, there aren't that many Holy Persons in this Tian Di, are there?

How could one possibly just casually run into someone who wants to fight him?

Sun Wukong complained in his heart, but he didn't dare speak his thoughts aloud; being neither kin nor acquaintance, receiving a gift is already not bad.

He clasped his hands, and Sun Wukong bowed to Nüwa: "Thank you, Master's Wife, for the gift!"

Although he thought this Sanniang had great hopes, the words on his lips, he still remained strict.

Nüwa: "..."

Suddenly there arose an impulse to directly expend the Holy Person's Power.

Suppressing the anger in his heart, Nüwa slowly clenched her hands again, which had already been spread into palm shape.

"Don't call me Master's Wife!" Nüwa's voice at this moment carried a hint of repression.

"Then what should I call you?" Sun Wukong spread his hands, somewhat helpless: "One can't always just call you 'you', can one?"

So impolite!