Back on Earth, Wang Yan felt as though he had logged out of the game, instantly transforming from a god into an ordinary person.
After a day full of events, Wang Yan was exhausted. He took a hot bath, plunged into the small bed of his rented house, and fell fast asleep.
On his planet, Wang Yan was a high god, but on Earth, he was a mortal born and raised. Earth was his home, and nothing could replace the familiarity and inner peace he felt here.
...
He had a restful night.
The next day.
Wang Yan woke up naturally, the sleep having done him good. Lying in bed, he lazily opened his eyes, feeling cozy and comfortable.
It had been a long time since he had slept so well. The bed was warm, and he had no desire to get up. It felt great not having to go to work...
But, why didn't he have to go to work?
Because he owned a planet of his own...
Wait a minute!
Wang Yan suddenly remembered that in another world, he still had a job to do as a god!
And on that planet, he had left behind a group of primitive people!
Wang Yan looked at his watch—it was now 9:40 in the morning.
He had returned to Earth at around eight o'clock the previous night, and now it was past nine in the morning. He had slept for over ten hours straight. In other words, at least twenty days had passed on his planet.
Twenty days was more than enough time for many things to happen.
Wang Yan patted his forehead and smiled bitterly: "I might be the most irresponsible god in the world!"
He hurriedly got up, washed, and without even eating breakfast, tore open the space and returned to his planet. He couldn't wait to understand the current situation of the tribe.
Fire and water are merciless—he had left in such a hurry the previous night that he hadn't had time to explain many of the precautions for using fire. He hoped nothing had gone wrong!
...
Wang Yan's planet was bathed in sunlight, and the sky was clear for miles. Who knew how many days of torrential rain had finally stopped. The virgin forest, with its strong self-repairing ability, had already regained its vitality.
Standing on top of a mountain and observing the primitive tribe from a distance, Wang Yan suddenly felt that something was wrong with the way he was viewing the world this time.
He couldn't help rubbing his eyes and looked again.
Then, he was completely stunned.
Surprises always fill every corner of life. You never know what will happen tomorrow.
In the square outside the tribe, a large bonfire was burning fiercely, and almost all the primitive people had gathered around it, seemingly performing some kind of ceremony.
Compared to when Wang Yan had left, the people in the tribe had undergone tremendous changes from head to toe—they were completely transformed.
First of all, the messy hair of the men, women, and children in the tribe had been shaved off, and now everyone had short hair.
It might have been due to the tools they used, but their hair was unevenly trimmed, looking as though it had been chewed by a dog. This applied to both the men and women.
Appreciating beauty is one thing, but don't forget that Wang Yan was a professional art designer, and his pursuit of aesthetics was deeply ingrained.
Suddenly seeing a group of people with such discordant hairstyles was more uncomfortable than being killed.
He couldn't help but think that he needed to get a set of professional haircut tools and fix their hair properly.
However, Wang Yan was relieved to see that everyone in the tribe was clean and tidy. The weather-beaten look caused by their hard work remained, but the unkempt faces had disappeared.
Shaving and bathing—these behaviors were probably thanks to the amazing learning and imitation abilities of the primitive humans.
Although the above changes were beyond Wang Yan's expectations, they were still within his range of acceptance.
But what was going on with the little girl standing in the middle of the bonfire?
When Wang Yan first saw the little girl in the flames, he was extremely angry. He thought that this group of ignorant primitive people had committed an unforgivable tragedy behind his back.
However, the little girl's calm expression and unharmed body in the fire quickly made him reconsider.
That was definitely not an illusion, and primitive people probably couldn't perform magic tricks.
But why was the little girl standing in the fire, safe and sound?
Moreover, what she was playing with in her palm were clearly two balls of fire.
How could she hold fireballs in her hand and play with them?
This defied the basic laws of scientific development!
Had he only been gone for a night, and already his World Tree was growing crooked?
Wang Yan couldn't help looking at the World Tree. The new leaves had grown stronger due to the appearance of fire, and they were a full circle larger than when they were first sprouted.
The World Tree wasn't growing crooked!
Was this the right way to guide the evolution of civilization?
If it exists, it must be reasonable. Could it be that his planet possessed attributes of a magical civilization?
Wang Yan was silent for a moment, wondering if everything he had insisted upon was wrong.
Thankfully, he had been thinking about going back to study the history of world civilization, but now it seemed completely unnecessary!
For the first time, the newly appointed god doubted the worldview he had adhered to for over 20 years.
In the square, the ceremony continued.
Patriarch Caesar, Shaman Nicholas, and hunting captain Hou Yi, along with other leaders of the tribe, presided over the ceremony.
The grass skirts worn by the leaders had been replaced with rice sacks, highlighting their uniqueness.
The words of a certain brand were printed on their chests. This rice manufacturer should probably pay Wang Yan a sponsorship fee—this was likely the first advertisement to cross from Earth and promote itself in another world...
Behind the leaders of the tribe was a flat cliff.
On the cliff, some sort of material had been used to paint a portrait of Wang Yan.
The simple strokes were very abstract, but Wang Yan could still recognize himself at a glance.
Short hair, a swing stick in one hand, a battery light in the other, and a lit gas stove next to him...
Several iconic items confirmed the identity of the portrait.
But...
It was terrible!
Wang Yan wanted to cry a little. To be honest, he didn't want to admit that the portrait on the cliff was him!
Think about the gods on Earth, whether from his homeland or abroad—aren't they all beautiful? So why was his likeness reduced to a stick figure god?
Wang Yan's former profession was art design, but the portrait enshrined by his people was so ugly that it was unbearable.
To make his idol more powerful, he couldn't rule out the possibility that he might need to teach these people the basics of art.
In front of the portrait, the gas stove and cooking pot were placed there. The pot that had been used to cook porridge now held the head of an unknown animal, bloodied, with a pointed mouth and bulging white eyes...
Okay!
This must be the most primitive form of sacrifice!
Staring at the bloody animal head, Wang Yan smirked. Could you please cook it carefully? It's too disrespectful to God—I am the god who brought you fire!
At this time, a little boy about fifteen or sixteen years old walked out of the crowd, respectfully bowed to the portrait of Wang Yan, then stood up and bowed to the patriarch and shaman in turn. With a tragic expression, under everyone's expectant gaze, he resolutely stretched out his left hand toward the burning bonfire.
Wang Yan's eyes widened.
The little boy touched the flame with his palm and held it there for more than ten seconds before letting out a scream, quickly withdrawing his hand, and plunging it into the cold pool of water that had been prepared nearby.
Seeing this, the onlookers sighed in unison.
What a cruel test!
Wang Yan took a deep breath. Although he was immortal, he didn't have the courage to put his hand into a fire.
Patriarch Caesar remained unmoved, shook his head, and pointed to the next person in line.
Wang Yan only then noticed that the primitive people in the square were divided into two groups around the bonfire. On one side were those waiting to be tested; on the other were the failures, nursing their burnt left hands and grimacing in pain.
What was this?
Was the little girl in the middle of the flames chosen through such a process?
When it came to daily use of fire, Wang Yan had only thought of cooking, burning mountains to clear land, and maybe smelting steel.
But he never imagined that fire could be used like this!
This group of primitive people had let their imaginations run wild—they were literally playing with fire!